#first page and i sniff queerness

[canideadmeow]

okay i did not know oscar wilde fell in love w lord alfred douglas.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 5/5

Book Blurb:

NEW from bestselling and award-winning author Andrew Joseph White! A queer Appalachian thriller that pulls no punches—following a trans autistic teen who's drawn into the generational struggle between the rural poor and those who exploit them.

Preorder now and recieve the LIMITED FIRST EDITION featuring specially designed photo endpapers—only while supplies last!

On the night Miles Abernathy—sixteen-year-old socialist and proud West Virginian—comes out as trans to his parents, he sneaks off to a party, carrying evidence that may finally turn the tide of the blood feud plaguing Twist Creek: Photos that prove the county’s Sheriff Davies was responsible for the so-called “accident” that injured his dad, killed others, and crushed their grassroots efforts to unseat him.

The feud began a hundred years ago when Miles’s great-great-grandfather, Saint Abernathy, incited a miners’ rebellion that ended with a public execution at the hands of law enforcement. Now, Miles becomes the feud’s latest victim as the sheriff’s son and his friends sniff out the evidence, follow him through the woods, and beat him nearly to death. 

In the hospital, the ghost of a soot-covered man hovers over Miles’s bedside while Sheriff Davies threatens Miles into silence. But when Miles accidently kills one of the boys who hurt him, he learns of other folks in Twist Creek who want out from under the sheriff’s heel. To free their families from this cycle of cruelty, they’re willing to put everything on the line—is Miles?

A visceral, unabashedly political page-turner that won’t let you go until you’ve reached the end, Compound Fracture is not for the faint of heart, but it is for every reader who's ready to fight for a better world. Hand this story to teens pushing for radical change.

Review:

A queer Appalachian thriller following a trans autistic teen thrown into the general struggle between the rural poor and those who will exploit them. Miles Abernathy is a sixteen year old socialist who has just come out as trans to his parents... and when he sneaks off to a party carrying evidence that would turn the tide in the feud in Twist Creek.... proving that the county's sheriff has been killing people and purposely injured Miles's father, things take a dark turn as the sheriff's son faces off against Miles. Miles just wanted to go unnoticed but its too late when the sheriff's son catches him with the evidence and proceeds to beat him to near death to keep him silent... and when the Sheriff threatens Miles into silence, Miles accidentally kills one of the boys who had hurt him. Everyone is under the sheriff's heel but maybe Miles will be the one to finally break this cycle... even if it means bodies will start dropping and blood is the only way to end the feud. This was a bloody brutal story about a small town feud, the toxic treatment of queer individuals, and the lengths people will go to to control others. Miles was such an interesting and compelling character who is constantly being handed terrible situations and must find a way to endure and survive them. This was a twisted fun read and one I would absolutely recommend for anyone who enjoys a good thriller and complex characters. I have been a huge fan of Andrew Joseph White's stories and writing and this one did not miss at all for me. I would absolutely recommend this book!

Release Date: September 3, 2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Holiday House / Peachtree / Pixel+Ink | Peachtree Teen for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Five times Mcgonogall had to deal with the Marauders being dumbasses about feelings and the one time one of them had it all figured out (alternatively titled: Slytherins may be morally challenged but at least they’re not as thick as warthogs)

1) James [Two Birds - Regina Spektor]

Mcgonogall gets woken up at four in the morning by a panicking James Potter in fourth year. She opens the door only a crack and he shoves his way in before she can even invite him in (which she still hadn’t fully decided she was going to do at all). He plops himself down in her chair, slams his hands down on her desk, and says, “So I kissed Sirius.”

Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow. James flushes bright red and starts sputtering out an explanation, “No, Minnie, you don’t understand, he’s my best friend, I love him, he’s brilliant, I think I wanna snog him for the rest of my life but he’s a fucking boy, Minnie -” Mcgonogall holds up her hand. James shuts his mouth.

“Mr. Potter,” she starts. “I have watched you and Mr. Black dance around each other for years. There is no doubt in my mind that the two of you were meant to find each other, in whatever way. The fact that you are both boys is irrelevant.” James takes a moment to absorb this, then squeaks, “Then why do I still like girls?”

Mcgonogall sighs. “You can like both, Jamie. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.” James blushes. “Oh,” he says, and then, “Lily Evans is really pretty.”

Mcgonogall sighs again. “I’m aware you think so, Mr. Potter. I’m also aware she’s dating Severus Snape.” James’ pink cheeks pale again, and he looks down. “Oh,” he says again, and then, “Should I kiss Sirius again, Miss?” Mcgonogall shrugs.

“You should do whatever makes you happy,” she answers, holding open the door. “Now off to bed with you, Mr. Potter. There’s only so many hours til the morning.” James considers this for a moment, then nods slowly, walking over and standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Potter?” She asks at his hesitation, and he suddenly turns and wraps his arms around her waist, burying his face in her robes. “Thanks, Minnie,” he mumbles, and she brushes a shocked hand once through his curls before he pulls back with a blush and runs off down the hall.

As soon as Mcgonogall’s closed the door, Severus pokes his head out from her study.

“Gryffindors, amiright?” He says, cracking a smile, and she raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I am a Gryffindor, Mr. Snape.” Severus just raises an eyebrow right back.

Mcgonogall sighs, lifting her skirts and heading back to her study. “But yes, yes, I suppose you’re right. Now, the next step of becoming an Animagus is…”

2) Peter [Soldier, Poet, King - The Oh Hellos]

Peter’s serving a detention with Mcgonogall when she notices he’s been quiet. Instead of “accidentally” messing up his tasks in the funniest ways he can muster, he’s simply doing his work quietly. He’s not even muttering to himself or singing. So, being the awesome person she is, she asks him what’s wrong.

Peter shrugs, not answering. She waits. A minute passes and he sighs, looking up at her with glassy eyes. “I don’t think my friends care about me.”

Mcgonogall wrinkles her nose. “What on earth gives you that idea?” She asks, and Peter shrugs, ducking his head down again. “Mr. Pettigrew. Why do you think your friends don’t care about you?”

Peter exhales heavily, but looks back up and answers. “Because they’re not here! Because I’m just their scapegoat! Because I’m not smart like Remus or charming like Sirius or brave like James or funny like all of them, I’m just the roommate they think they need to include. I’m - I’m expendable.” He spits the last word, throwing down the book he was about to put away and stomping towards the door.

Calmly, Mcgonogall says, “You’re an idiot, Peter.”

Peter freezes, turning around with a flushed face. “What?” He asks, and Mcgonogall sighs.

“I have seen many a clique in all my years of teaching. I know what real friendship looks like and I know the lack of it just the same. I know how to tell when one person cares about another and when to intervene. I know when true friends have been made. And you, Mr. Pettigrew, are one of the most beloved students I have ever had the fortune to meet. Most notably by those three boys you think are constantly leaving you behind, when really they’re always looking over their shoulders to check if you’re still there.”

Peter flushes red. He ducks his head, but not before she sees his smile. “Thanks, Professor,” he mutters, and she nods once, sharply, and waves her hand in dismissal.

“Report back tomorrow for your next detention. And bring those blithering idiots with you.” Peter beams, skipping out the door with a wave.

As soon as Peter’s left, Mcgonogall spins her chair to the side and looks down at Severus, sitting on the floor beside her desk with his legs splayed out in front of him and his nose buried in a book.

“So?” She asks. “What do you think? Gryffindor stupidity or Marauder stupidity?”

Severus snorts. “Honestly? Both. I mean, at least he has friends.” He turns a page and then freezes, suddenly realizing what he’s just admitted. He looks up at her and blinks owlishly, to which Mcgonogall waves a hand in dismissal.

“Nonsense. You have Miss Evans. And me, of course.”

Severus blushes. “Lily’s been distant, lately - wait, did you just say we’re friends?”

Mcgonogall raises her eyebrow. “Well you did always get on well with Gryffindors.”

Severus blinks. Then his eyes start to glisten and he smiles into his book. “Oh. Thanks.”

Mcgonogall pats his head and kisses it just for a single second as she stands and passes by him into her study. She’ll have to tell Albus about this at teatime.

3) Remus [Into The Open Air - Julie Fowlis]

A knock comes to Mcgonogall’s door over Christmas break in fifth year. It’s so late even she isn’t really awake, but she walks over anyway, grumbling as she steps over Severus’ sleeping form, curled on the floor over some books.

“Yes?”

She opens the door to a rumpled Remus Lupin, on the verge of tears and yet ever so polite as he manages to choke out, “May I speak with you, please?”

The last word is barely out of his mouth before he’s crying. He tries to cover his face as she puts a hand on his back and gently guides him inside, helping him settle into the chair in front of her desk. She Accios him some tissues and a mug of cocoa, and he sniffles out a thank you, desperately trying to get himself under control as he weeps.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he finally manages. “I know it’s late, I just -” Mcgonogall holds up a hand to stop him.

“Mr. Lupin,” she says. “When a student of mine shows up at my door in tears, the time is not my first concern.” Remus flushes, ducking his head to his lap. He sniffs, then makes to stand.

“Well. Thank you. I’d, um, best be going now -”

“Remus.”

Remus freezes. “As I have never seen you cry before, forgive me if I’m hesitant to let you leave without hearing your reason for doing so.” Remus sniffs again. He stays still for a moment before sighing, wilting back into the chair. He takes a deep breath, then rasps, “I’m in love with Sirius.”

For a moment, there is only silence. Then, Mcgonogall clears her throat. “I see,” she says, slowly. “May I ask when exactly you came to this conclusion?”

Remus’ face nearly crumples again, but he catches it at the last minute, hands fidgeting in his lap as he mumbles, “Um - fuck. Uh, third year? Maybe? Ish?”

Mcgonogall’s eyes widen. Without an excuse to keep talking, Remus collapses back into tears. Mcgonogall watches him for a moment before murmuring, “This is about Sirius and James.”

Remus flinches. Mcgonogall shoves the tissue box towards him again and he sniffles, taking one.

“Yeah,” he finally says. “I was, um. I was trying to deal with it, y’know, on my own, but there’s only so much of watching the love of my fucking life make out with my best friend that I can take and so I - I kind of thought I’d talk to you because I don’t really have any other friends and I’d rather nobody know because I don’t want them to fucking pity me, I hate when people pity me, but I, um - anyway, I came here now because they’re on break and they won’t ask so many questions about why I was here cause they won’t know and I just -”

He rambles on, but Mcgonogall can’t much process what he’s saying, as half of it is in Welsh seemingly without Remus’ knowledge and all she can think about is every single interaction Remus and Sirius have ever had in front of her and how - wow, oh Merlin, she really should’ve seen that, huh?

“That must suck,” she interrupts his rambling with, unable to stop herself before the words escape, and Remus shuts his mouth with a snap and then nods, wincing and blinking back more tears.

“Yeah, it’s�� it’s not fun,” he says softly. “Anyway, um, I - I know I can’t do anything about it, okay?” She raises an eyebrow and Remus flushes, ducking his head again. “I know that they love each other and they’re happy and I would be a pretty selfish person if I decided to ruin all of that for no reason other than my stupid fucking feelings. Besides, it’s not like I could make Sirius love me anyways, so it’d all just be a gigantic waste of time.”

Mcgonogall hums. “But?”

Remus’ shoulders slump and he buries his face in his hands. “But,” he mumbles, “sometimes I just hate them for it. Because why should they get to be so fucking happy? Because why do I have to be so fucking miserable? Because I don’t know what I did to deserve all the shit I’ve been through, but clearly I did something. Because… because…” He pauses, a last, single tear falling down his cheek like a shooting star. “Because I’m a half-blood queer werewolf covered in ugly scars who will never be able to find a steady job or afford a comfortable home and I’ve spent a lot of time questioning whether it was even worth it to keep going but I always thought of him, y’know? Because if he was still there I’d be okay. But he’s… he’s not gonna be, because he and James are gonna get married and they’re gonna have like fifty million kids and they’re gonna move away and I’m just gonna be here, a homeless werewolf whoring himself out to get by because I’ll just never fucking have anything better.”

They are quiet for a very long time. Finally, Mcgonogall takes a deep breath and reaches forward to grasp his hand.

“You will always have me,” she says solemnly, looking into his sad, sad eyes. “You will always have a home here, with me. I can’t promise you Sirius or children or even a job, but I can promise that you will always be loved by me.”

Remus cracks a small smile. His eyes are still dead, but she can see the tiniest spark amid the embers. “Thanks, Minnie,” he whispers, and stands. “Goodnight.”

Mcgonogall nods, watching him leave. “Goodnight, Mr. Lupin. Come back any time.”

“Sirius loves him back, you know.”

Mcgonogall turns her head towards her bedroom, where a sleepy, frumpled Severus holds himself up against the door with a hand, his hair sticking up all over the place.

“Oh?” She says, and he shrugs, trudging over to her desk and picking up Remus’ unfinished hot cocoa and chugging it down.

“Yeah,” he rasps, wiping at his mouth. “Not that he knows it yet, but. ‘S kinda hard to miss, those two.”

Mcgonogall nods, slowly. She asks, “And how would you know this, Severus?”

Severus flushes, shrugging. “The way he looks at him.” Mcgonogall raises her eyebrow.

“What about it?”

Severus goes from pink to red, mumbling into the mug in his hands. “It’s the same way Lily looks at me and James,” he murmurs. “And the same way James looks at her. Well, her and…”

He ducks his head, pursing his lips. Mcgonogall lowers one eyebrow and raises the other. “Her and…?”

“Me,” Severus answers, soft. “The way James looks at her and me.”

Mcgonogall is quiet for a moment. Finally she hums, standing from her chair and heading back towards her study.

“You’d best be on your way, Mr. Snape,” she says. “You’ve not slept in a bed in nearly a week.” Severus nods, still flushed, and escapes into the hallway with only three of her books hidden under his cloak.

4) Lily [Touch The Sky - Julie Fowlis]

Mcgonogall is in the middle of a critical lesson to her first years when the doors of her classroom burst open and Lily storms in, her eyes steely as she stares Mcgonogall down. “A moment, Professor, if you please?” She says, and Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow.

“I am teaching a class, Miss Evans -” Lily’s eye twitches. At the sight, Mcgonogall’s brow furrows, and she sighs. “Very well. I expect nine inches on the importance of intent when transfiguring an object next class - oh, and your best attempt at doodling a giraffe while you’re at it.”

The students all file out with nervous glances towards Lily and Mcgonogall. When the last one trickles out, Mcgonogall waves her hand and shuts all the doors with an impressive display of wandless magic before raising her eyebrow and nodding towards the chair in front of her desk. “Well, Miss Evans? What did you need to speak with me so badly about that you felt the need to completely derail an incredibly important introductory lesson to my first years?”

Lily collapses into the chair and sinks into herself, shaking her head and burying her face in her hands. Mcgonogall sighs. “Miss Evans -”

“Don’t call me that,” Lily rasps. “Don’t call me that, I’m not - I’m not a Miss.”

Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow. “What are you, then?” She asks carefully, and Lily sighs. After a moment of useless fidgeting, Lily says, “Mr. I’m a Mr.”

Mcgonogall nods slowly, considering this. “Well then, Mr. Evans,” she drawls, “will that be all?”

Lily flushes bright red, then shakes his head. “Um, I - I’m a boy, right? And it’s weird for a boy to be called Lily, right? That’s weird, right?”

Mcgononall purses her lips, lacing her fingers together in front of her. Lily watches her anxiously. “I don’t think it’s weird at all, actually,” she finally answers, and Lily lets out a loud breath of air.

“Oh,” he says, curling in on himself. “So if I still wanna be called Lily, that’s - that’s okay? I can do that?” Mcgonogall nods.

“You can be called whatever you like, Lily,” she says. “Mr. Evans. Whatever you like.” Lily smiles for a moment, flushing happily, before frowning again.

“But what about Severus?” He asks in a small voice. “What will he think of his girlfriend being his boyfriend?”

Mcgonogall leans back in her chair, considering this. She glances down at the empty spot next to her, where Severus would be if he were not in class this morning. She purses her lips and carefully answers, “I think that if Severus truly loves you, which all evidence points to, then he will not stop for such an insignificant revelation.”

Lily grins down at his lap, cheeks pinkening, and nods. “Thank you, Professor,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry for interrupting your lesson.”

Mcgonogall waves away his concern as he stands and heads for the door. “No matter. You can make it up to me with tea on Sunday. Oh, and Lily, dear?”

Lily looks up, hand on the door, and smiles. “Yes?”

Mcgonogall smirks. “I daresay Mr. Potter will not mind either.”

Lily turns the color of his hair and nods spastically before disappearing into the fray of students just dismissed.

“Lily cut his hair today,” Severus greets her with when he arrives that afternoon, weighed down by the tons of books in his arms. He dumps them on a nearby desk and makes his way over to her desk, picking up a quill and some parchment and settling in the chair across from her. “It’s all short and frayed and soft. He looks handsome.”

Mcgonogall hums. “Did you tell him that?” She asks as she summons them some tea, smiling at the way Severus hisses when it hits his tongue (he’s always had a bad habit of forgetting to blow before sipping).

“Of course I did,” he says, still scribbling. “He’s my boyfriend. It’s my job to make him happy, and if sweet compliments that make my teeth rot are what make him happy, then fuck my embarrassment, I guess.” Mcgonogall nods, pleased.

“What a gentleman you are,” she drawls, then takes a sip of her tea and asks, “What are you writing?” Severus freezes, then looks up at her with wide eyes.

“Just a list,” he finally says softly. “Of all the things I want to do before this war kills me.”

Alarmed, Mcgonogall coughs, beating her chest lightly as she sets her tea down. “You will not die in this war, Severus,” she says, her hands shaking. “None of you will.”

Severus shrugs and answers quietly, “With all due respect, Professor, we’re all going to die in this war, whether it be now or later.”

Mcgonogall feels her eyes sting with tears but pushes them back, shaking her head. “No,” she rasps. “No, none of you will die in this war. It will be finished before you leave the confines of this school.” Severus smiles sadly at her, shaking his head as he returns to his list.

“Sorry, ma’am. But half of my House have already sworn their loyalty to Voldemort, and soon enough others will be forced into it. Myself, Regulus, and Sirius among them.” Mcgonogall draws in a sharp breath. Quick as a whip, she tears the list from Severus’ hand and throws him a new parchment.

“Here,” she says. “Make a new list. Names of everyone you know with that wretched Mark, and anyone who’s thinking of it. I don’t care what House, you let me know. You bring me that list when it’s finished and I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you, Severus. All of you.”

Severus stares for a moment, dark eyes unseeing, before ducking his head to the parchment, writing slower than before. Clear names begin to come into view: Sirius Potter. Regulus Black. Lucius Malfoy. Bellatrix Black. Narcissa Black. Mulciber, Avery, Dolohov… The list goes on and on until finally Severus finishes with a final flourish of his trembling hand, Severus Snape.

He then hands the list to Mcgonogall, who smiles thinly. “Thank you, Severus,” she murmurs, and he smiles wryly.

“Thank you, Professor,” he answers, and leaves in a hurry, forgetting his books on the way out.

5) Sirius [First Man - Camila Cabello]

Mcgonogall is making her rounds around the castle one night in sixth year when she hears the sound of someone crying. She wanders until she finds the source of the noise - Sirius Potter, his knees pulled to his chest as he stares into the Mirror of Erised.

Mcgonogall drinks him in - his bruised eyes, his sunken cheeks, his shaking hands - and murmurs, “Mr. Potter, it’s late.” Sirius flinches. He stands in a hurry and brushes himself off, wiping at his eyes as he pushes past her.

“Of course, Professor. I’ll just be heading to bed now -”

She grasps his arm, making him pause. He bites his lip, and she swallows.

“You’ll do no such thing,” she murmurs, as gently as she can. “Come with me, Mr. Potter.” He winces again, but follows her soundlessly, hunched over like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. When they reach her classroom, she moves wordlessly to her desk and settles in her chair, gesturing to the chair in front of her as Sirius closes the door behind him hesitantly. “Please sit, Mr. Potter,” she says, and Sirius flinches so violently this time she worries he might snap in half.

“Don’t call me that,” he hisses, and for a moment she’s transported back to that conversation with Lily all those months ago. “Don’t call me that, please. I… I don’t deserve it.”

Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow. “You don’t deserve to be called by your own name?” She asks, and Sirius withers like a dying flower into the chair in front of her.

“No,” he finally says, softly. “It’s not my name, Professor. That name belongs to my ex-boyfriend. My name is Black.”

Mcgonogall’s other eyebrow raises in surprise. She hums. “Ex-boyfriend?”

Sirius shrugs, wrapping his arms around himself. “After I hurt Moony - Remus, Jamie socked me in the jaw and told me I wasn’t a Marauder anymore. Was caught makin’ out with Evans and Snivellus soon enough anyway. He hasn’t spoken to me in months - I can take a hint, Professor. I may be a stupid, dumb, moronic piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to live, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s how to tell when somebody stops loving me.”

Mcgonogall feels her heart break open in her chest and stems it with white hot rage - for Remus, for James, for Severus, and, despite everything, for Sirius.

“You are not dumb, or stupid, or moronic,” she says slowly, lacing her fingers together in front of her. “And you’re certainly not a piece of shit. Impulsive and reckless at times, yes, but you’re not worthless. Trust me, Sirius, I’ve met worthless people, and they are nothing like you. Your life means something.”

Sirius laughs. Mcgonogall has never heard such an unhappy sound in her life.

“With all due respect, Professor, I’m the worst fuck-up anyone’s seen in generations,” he snarks. “I’m the disowned disgrace of the Black family who fucks boys and wears dresses and falls in love with poncy tossers and half-blood werewolves whose deepest secrets I give away like a fucking Death Eater spy. I’m the most worthless kind of person there is.”

Mcgonogall pushes her chair back, stands, and makes quick strides around the desk and over to Sirius, pulling him against her chest.

“You are beautiful,” she whispers, right into his ear. “You are smart. You are kind. You are brave. You are selfless. You are funny. You are brilliant. But above all, Sirius, you are good.” Feeling him start to tremble against her, her robes beginning to dampen, she musters up a smile, feeling her own tears well up as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“You are my favorite student, Sirius Padfoot Potter Lupin,” she whispers as he sobs. “You are James Potter’s favorite person, and Regulus Black’s favorite brother. You are Remus Lupin’s favorite friend and you are everyone’s favorite Gryffindor. You are one of the best souls in this world and we would all be devastated to lose you.”

Sirius sniffles against her chest. “Really?” He blubbers, and she kisses the top of his head.

“Really,” she answers, and he laughs into her robes. He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like I love you and she says, “What was that?”

Flushing, he pulls back, shaking his head and wiping away his tears. “Thank you, Minnie,” he says shyly, and she nods, smiling and squeezing his hand.

“Anytime, love. Would you like me to walk you back to your dorm or do you think you can do it yourself?” She asks, and Sirius shrugs when the door creaks open and Remus Lupin pokes his head through with a soft, “Padfoot? Are you in there?”

Sirius’ eyes widen and his tear-streaked face lights up like the sun as he bounds down the steps and over to Remus, skidding to a stop just before he reaches him. “Here, Remus,” he murmurs, and Remus smiles, running a fond hand through Sirius’ silky dark hair.

“Come on then, Siri,” he says softly. “Time for bed.” Sirius blushes, leaning in just a bit, and Remus grins, engulfing him in a hug and pecking his cheek before pulling back to grab his hand. “I’ve got it from here, Professor,” he says to Mcgonogall with a polite nod. “You have a good night, Miss.”

Mcgonogall smiles and nods back, watching her boys disappear out the door and into the night before sighing to herself and drawing her robes tighter around her to block the wind as she heads, finally, to bed.

In the morning, she wakes up to Severus already in her classroom, making himself busy at  one of the desks. She blearily makes them a few cups of tea before settling across from him, taking in the disorganized array of cauldrons, ingredients, and notes in front of him.

“What’s all this then?” She asks, taking a sip of her tea and then wincing at the sheer sweetness from overpoured sugar, and Severus shrugs.

“Trying to make a potion out of wolfsbane,” he answers, voice soft. “Thought it might be able to prevent transformations.”

Mcgonogall raises an eyebrow. “My, my. A difficult task indeed. May I ask why?” Severus shrugs again, his nose buried in the notebook he’s scribbling in.

“To help Remus, of course,” he says, as if it were obvious, as if they’ve been friends for years. Mcgonogall nods, humming, and takes another sip of her disgusting tea.

“Your new interest is Mr. Lupin is certainly… kind,” she says, and Severus finally looks up at her, eyes wide and dark but so, so light.

“He’s nice,” he murmurs. “That’s all.”

And Mcgonogall suspects that there is far, far more reason than that, but it’s far too early and she’s far too tired to even begin picking apart the peculiar behaviors of one Severus Snape Evans Potter, so instead she simply nods and plonks her head down in her arms, allowing herself to be lulled to sleep by the sound of rustling notebook pages, cracking bezoars and Severus’ out-of-tune humming of Beatles songs.

1) Regulus [Learn Me Right - Birdy, Mumford & Sons]

A few hours before his graduation, Regulus shows up at Mcgonogall’s door, the smallest of smiles settled on his face. “Good morning, Professor,” he says, and she sighs.

“You graduate in three hours, Mr. Black,” she says tiredly. “What could you possibly need my help with now?”

Regulus gives her an amused smile, tracing his fingers along the desks of his brothers and friends as he walks through the rows he’s sat in for so many years. “Nothing,” he answers finally, looking towards her. “I came to deliver this.”

He hands her a light blue card decorated in fluttering rainbow butterflies that reads, You have been cordially invited to the wedding of Remus Moony Lupin and Sirius Padfoot Potter on the 21st of June. At the bottom is a hastily scrawled note in two different hands, We hope you can make it. We love you, Minnie! Thank you for everything! Thank you, Minnie.

Mcgonogall clutches the invitation in surprise and looks up at Regulus with the breathless question, “Really?” Regulus just smiles, nodding.

“Yup,” he says in that slow drawl of his. “Severus and Lily and James have been talking about it too, so you can expect to see another one of those soon.” Mcgonogall smiles, blinking back tears.

“And you?” She asks, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “What will you do, Mr. Black?”

Regulus shakes his head and bites his lip, looking up at her with twinkling eyes and a sparkling grin. “It’s Mr. Lupin now,” he answers, “and I have no bloody idea.”

Mcgonogall laughs aloud, drawing him into a hug and kissing the top of his head. She sends him off with a wave and well-wishes.

Six years later, there’s a knock on her door. Summer has barely started but most of the castle is empty anyhow, with students having been sent home and most teachers taking their vacations now. With the war having been over for years now and the fight for werewolf rights making serious headway, Professor Mcgonogall does not receive many visitors. So she only expects Dumbledore when she opens the door, but instead there’s Severus, grinning and holding the hand of a fluffy-haired, green-eyed toddler with a lightning birthmark on his forehead.

“Hi, Professor,” he says, waving his free hand. She catches the glint of a wedding ring and tears up, smiling as she draws him in for a hug.

“Who’s this?” She asks, bending down to shake the little boy’s hand. Severus grins.

“This is Harry,” he says. “Harry Evans. My son.”

Mcgonogall looks up at him in shock. He shrugs, and suddenly she’s beaming, hugging him close again. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispers, and Severus squeezes her tight.

“I owe it all to you, Minnie,” he murmurs back, and kisses her cheek as she pulls back. After a moment of just smiling at each other, he says, “I have a few hours free to catch up, if you want? Tea?” Mcgonogall beams.

“But of course,” she teases, offering her arm. Severus takes it, laughing, and closes the door behind them with a few simple words of warning: “I feel I should mention, you can also expect untimely visits from six other Marauder children.” Mcgonogall looks at him, shakes her head, and sighs.

“Just as well,” she answers, and Severus laughs, joy shaking his bones. “But you owe me so much tea.” Severus winks.

“I’ve got the literal and figurative kind whenever you’re free,” he answers, and Mcgonogall smiles.

Severus announces his relationship with Lily and James by dragging them in by the hand one morning and shouting, “I got it, Professor!”

[master-sass-blast]

Gifted.

*tosses escapism fic into the void* yeet.

Summary: You and Piotr go Christmas shopping and enjoy the holiday season. 

That's it. That's all that's happening. You're welcome.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader and mentioned Illyana Rasputin x Kitty Pryde.

Rating: G.

Word Count: 2k precisely.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: On the off-chance someone asks or is worried, yes, there are no mentions of masks or social distancing in this fic. That's because, in this fic, there is no COVID (ergo, no need for masks and such). I'm just not dealing with it in my fanfic as well. I won't. You can't make me.

Wear your fucking masks irl pls and thank u.

Taglist:  @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“What a bright time, it's the right time/ To rock the night away/ Jingle bell time is a swell time/ To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh…”

You inhale deeply, then smile. The smells of fresh pretzels and pine –the latter is likely a fake scent that the stores use, but it’s still good—tantalize your nose. You tuck your hat and gloves in your purse, then look over at your husband. “Where all are we going?”

“Ah…” Piotr scans his list –which has notes on which stores to check and what order the stores are laid out in the mall, so as to streamline things. “Kitty said she did not want gifts because she does not celebrate Christmas, so we are just shopping for… my family and Russell. You said you already bought gifts for your dad and Wade?”

“Yup,” you say with a grin. Nate’s easy to shop for –ammo, clothes, and the odd book or two are usually all he want—and for Wade you just find the weirdest stuff listed on Amazon. “And I already sent my uncle a gift from us, so we don’t have to worry about him.”

Piotr nods, ‘hmm-ing’ as he makes a note on his list. “Okay.” He mumbles in Russian under his breath, then says, “Mama had no list this year; I think we start with her first since figuring out gift will take longer.”

“That’s fine. Where should we start?”

“I think bookstore is best bet. From there, we can stop by Hot Topic and candle shop for snezhinka, then Game Stop for Mikhail.”

“Sounds good.” You link your arm through his and smile up at him. “Lead the way, babe.”

 ***

 You glance between the piles of books on the table, then at your husband, who looks like he’s about to pull his hair out. “Do you think that, just maybe, you’re overthinking this? Just a little?”

“This is important,” Piotr insists as he skims through books from various areas of Barnes and Noble –cooking, history, fiction; he’d grabbed at least one book from nearly every section. “She has specific tastes. Cannot be just any old book.”

You purse your lips together. You don’t doubt that Alexandra has particular tastes in reading material –as a woman from her walk in life is bound to have—but you’re also certain that she wouldn’t want her son driving himself insane just to pick a present for her. You sit down next to Piotr and gently put your hand on his arm. “Sweetheart. She’s going to like whatever you get her.”

“Not necessarily. I have seen her toss many books aside with scoff and never pick them up again.”

“Okay, why?”

He shrugs. “Realism. She thinks some authors are ‘too indulgent’ or ‘too unrealistic.’”

“Alright, so maybe we leave out the crime and romance stuff,” you suggest, setting the few books he’d grabbed from those areas aside. “What does she like to do?”

Piotr goes quiet. His expression grows ashen as he contemplates the question. “I… don’t know.”

“Does she like to cook? Or draw? Or watch certain types of shows or movies?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats, more insistent. “She…” He sighs. “She never sits still. I don’t think any shows or movies interest her. When I was child, she always worked. On farm, taking care of animals, helping workers, making food, balancing accounts, translating letters and schoolwork… I never saw her rest. Do something for herself.”

You let out a soft snort. “Maybe a book on meditation.”

Piotr rolls his eyes, grinning. “Perhaps not.”

“Who does she like to be around, then?”

“Otets.” Piotr smiles when the answer comes easily. “She and my father” –he holds up two crossed fingers—“are like this. Aside from siblings and me, I think he is only person she is really close to.”

“Alright, maybe a cookbook, then. That’d give them something to do together.”

Piotr nods, then starts looking through the cookbooks he’d picked. “Question is, which one?”

“Well, we know she likes to stay busy and keep moving. Maybe something that’d challenge their skills? Something they haven’t tried?” You hold up a book boasting ‘rich and authentic Middle Eastern recipes.’ “This could be good. I think they’d have access to most of the ingredients, here in New York.”

He nods again, then sets the aforementioned book aside before checking over the other ones. “I think…” He lifts a hardcover thriller novel off the table. “She likes mysteries. This one has good reviews… maybe…”

You gently take the book from his hands and set it atop the Middle Eastern cookbook. “I think it’s a great choice.”

He smiles, then kisses your cheek. “Spasibo, myshka.”

 ***

 “Bozhe moi.”

You giggle as the two of you step over the threshold of the Yankee Candle store, only for Piotr to recoil and take a step back. “You good there, baby?”

He presses his fingers against the sides of his nose. “Is like… assault of smells.”

“I know.” You inhale deeply, them flash him an impish smile. “Isn’t it great?” 

Piotr groans, still rubbing his sinuses. “Do you mind—”

“I’ll find a candle for Illyana. Wanna meet up in Gamestop?”

“Spasibo, dorogoy.”

You blow him a kiss, then head into the candle store. You take a couple minutes to peruse the holiday display at the front of the store –and grab a couple votives for you and Piotr to enjoy—before heading towards the back of the store, where all the shelves of their regular candles are. You pause to smell your favorites –seriously, the McIntosh apple one never fails to make your mouth water—before taking a step back to survey your options. Alright, what to get for a mildly angsty, queer Russian goth?

It’s not as straightforward as it sounds (har har). Illyana’s an enigma, much like her mother. She’s quiet, keeps to herself, and doesn’t usually bother with convention.

Do I go for aesthetic? You pick up a pitch black candle labeled “Midnight Forest” and give it a cursory sniff. Ugh, smells like ass. No, thank you.

You also have to consider that whatever you get is likely going to be smelled by Kitty, too. As much as Illyana marches to the beat of her own drum, she’s surprisingly conscientious of her bubbly, energetic girlfriend.

Maybe something natural? Like the farm? You try a few options, wrinkling your nose after each sniff. God, what is it with the fresh scents and smelling heinous? You debate texting Piotr and dragging him back in here, if only so you’re certain you’ll get something Illyana would like—

And then it hits you over the head like a brick.

She’s gonna use these for meditation. You head down the rows of shelves, grab a jar labeled “Vanilla,” and give it a smell. Perfect. Not too strong, not too bland. You grab a lavender scented tumbler (for relaxation), then snag a pink one that smells like the perfume Kitty favors on a hunch it’ll be a hit.

By the time you pay for yours and Illyana’s candles, Piotr’s already waiting outside the Gamestop for you, bag in hand.

He eyes your bulging bags, eyebrow raising in trepidation. “Why…”

“Look, it’s your fault for abandoning me,” you say before he can point out your lack of self-control. “You know I’m weak for candles.”

Piotr snorts, then sighs. “Fair enough.” He nods and makes approving noises when you show him the picks you made for Illyana, then shows you what he grabbed for Mikhail.

“‘Mister Mosquito?’” You nearly double over laughing. “What even is this?”

“He wanted ‘weird video game,’” Piotr says, shrugging one shoulder. “I figure this should do.”

“He’s gonna love it,” you reassure your husband. “That’s weird as shit.” You start strolling along the main hall of the mall –and then your stomach rumbles. “Can we get pretzels?”

“Da, myshka,” Piotr chuckles, “we can get pretzels.”

 ***

 “There'll be parties for hosting/ marshmallows for toasting/ and caroling out in the snow/ there'll be scary ghost stories/ and tales of the glories of/ Christmases long, long ago…”

“It’s the most! Wonderful time! Of the year!” you sing along as you rip another chunk off your pretzel. You smile to yourself as you admire the glittering, twinkling decorations decking the food court. “How’s your pretzel?”

“Very tasty.” Piotr dips a bite of his pretzel in some mustard, pops it in his mouth, then swallows before wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I think we only have handful of stops left.”

“Couple of sweaters for your dad… weird socks and-or scarves for Mikhail…” You lean over, reading off the list in his hand (which is written in a mixture of Russian and English). You take another bite of pretzel, then tap on a portion of blended “Russi-nglish” that you can’t decipher. “What’s that?” you ask once your mouth is clear.

“Random gift options,” he translates. “For filling out presents, stockings, that sort of thing.” He touches the tip of his index finger to the page, moving down the list in order. “Chocolate, books, gift cards. Guaranteed hits, essentially.”

“Ooh, I could go for some chocolate.”

Piotr snorts. “You just had pretzel. And this is for others, myshka.”

“If it’s in the car with me, I make no promises.”

He laughs, then makes an extra note on his list. “Safety chocolate… for myshka. Got it.”

 ***

 “Here, dorogoy.”

“Oh, thank you!” You smile as Piotr takes some of the excess bags from your hands, shifting them so he can carry them (which, with his strength and the size of his hands, is no problem at all). You amble along next to him, admiring the various pop-up stands boasting games, calendars, and Christmas-themed treats. “Is there anywhere else we need to stop?”

“I believe we have everything.”

“And I’m guessing we need to head home so we can make dinner?”

“That would be best, da.” Piotr looks down at you, expression curious. “Why? There is somewhere you wish to stop?”

“Eh, not really,” you say with a shrug. “I just like coming to the mall during this time of year. The decorations, the music, the extra stands and seasonal gifts… It just makes me happy.”

“Aah, khorosho. I understand. We can come back later for date, if you like. Take time to walk around and admire stores.”

You grin up at him. “I’d like that.”

The two of you make to head out of the mall, back to the parking lot—

And then Piotr veers towards the right.

“Where are we going?” you ask, giggling as he leads you towards the bookstore. “I thought we already got everything we needed from here?”

He winks at you. “Trip is not complete yet. Not with hot chocolate, anyway.”

You grin and let him guide you over to the café in the bookstore.

Piotr gets you situated at a table near the expanse of windows at the front of the shop. He leaves your bags with you, then leads up at the counter to order your drinks.

You smile, lovestruck as you gaze over at him. How did I get so lucky? You lean back in your seat, taking a moment to admire the snow falling outside before checking out the decorations throughout the store…

Which is when you realize that there’s mistletoe hanging over your table.

You chuckle to yourself. Perfect.

“You are in good mood,” Piotr comments as he returns with two cups of hot chocolate.

“Of course, I am,” you admit with a broad grin. “I’ve got you. And tradition’s on our side.”

Piotr’s smile turns quizzical. He cocks his head to the side, staring at you for a moment, then looks up when you point towards the ceiling. “Ah,” he chuckles, “yes. That is good reason to be happy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You hook your finger under the collar of his shirt and gently tug him towards you. “Come here, handsome.”

He lets out a soft, happy giggle and bends down to kiss you.

[r-u-in-or-r-u-out]

Pixar’s recent short, Out is the kind of LGBTQ representation we need more of.

Out features “Pixar’s first LGBTQ protagonist”, (Jake Coyle, “With a gay protagonist, Pixar short ‘Out’ makes history”) Greg, who is based on the writer and director, Hunter. 

Hunter’s personal relationship to the narrative is partially what makes this short so groundbreaking in children’s media. For its lack of a strong intersectional approach to discussing multiple identity locations including race, class, and disability, Pixar’s decision to produce and promote Out is emblematic of a shift in social consciousness. It’s not without its issues, but if children are to have any examples of positive LGBTQ+ representation, Out is a good start.

Out features Greg and Manuel, a couple preparing to move from the suburbs to the city, and the story begins with the telltale appearance of a rainbow, wink wink. A pink dog and a purple cat jump out of the rainbow and look through a portal to a middle-class suburban house with a car and a moving van in the driveway. The pair charm the collar of Greg and Manuel’s dog Jim, though the reason is unclear. 

Homodomesticity:

It’s worth noting, Pixar chose the stereotypical white middle-class version of queerness instead of leaning into the already groundbreaking territory. But it is revolutionary in its use of homodomesticity in a children’s story.Steven Edward Duran describes the history of gay domesticity in American media as largely absent until shows like Will & Grace and Ellen came on the scene in the 1990s and early aughts. Homodomesticity is the concept of disrupting “rigid gender identities, heterosexuality, and traditional family values,” by including gay men in pop culture’s domestic and home environments. Queer studies tend to view domesticity as a depoliticizing force, particularly in television and visual media because the association of home and television reinforces the heteronormative social cues presented in the media. While it’s true that Greg and Manuel’s relationship in Out is clearly domestic, it is re-politicized in that the story is geared towards children. The short breaks the ice on a long absence of homodomesticity in Disney and Pixar’s content, sending a message to children that gay men can, and do, have long-term relationships and stable romance.

Post-racialism at work:

Greg is a burly, lumberjack type, white cis male with a thick red beard and red hair. Manuel is also a cisgender man, but any clue as to his cultural background, class, race, or other identities is absent. In the face of Greg’s multiple social locations, the ambiguity of Manuel’s intersectional identity is odd. Greg expresses an intersectional identity: white, gay, and (likely) middle class, while Manuel’s only clear identity-marker is his sexuality. His intersectional identity is effectively erased and boiled down to the singular: gay, a mark of post-racialism that ultimately upholds white dominance and hegemonic systems of power (M. Shane Grant, “We’re All Freaks Together: White Privilege and Mitigation of Queer Community”). This is reinforced by Manuel’s brown skin but otherwise ambiguous racial or cultural identities. Pixar could have expanded the narrative to include more of Manuel’s identity and his role in Greg’s life, but he is instead relegated to the background of Greg’s story. This is likely because Greg is based on the writer’s real-life experience, but it doesn’t mean that Pixar couldn’t have played with the story just a bit.

The photo:

Greg’s boyfriend, Manuel, reveals a framed photo of the two in an intimate embrace. The photo is the pivot point that instigates Greg’s coming-out. The couple discuss the fact that Greg hasn’t come out to his parents yet. Lo and behold, Greg’s parents show up unexpectedly to help with the move. Greg freaks out, photo in hand, shuts the door on his parents, and asks/ forces Manuel to leave out the back door. But as Manuel leaves, he says to Greg, “tell them.”

In choosing to focus on the big reveal of Greg’s sexual orientation, Out reinforces the concept that LGBTQ+ sexuality must be public information in order for characters like Greg to feel authentic (Tracy L. Hawkins, “Coming Out: Challenging Portrayals of Diverse Sexuality”).

White Privilege:

The visual cue of Manuel’s exit out the back door is interesting: Greg isn’t hesitant to tell his parents about the real nature of his relationship with Manuel because he isn’t white, but the move nonetheless serves to privilege whiteness. Kate Sullivan Barak noted in her analysis of Piper Chapman’s white privilege in Orange is the New Black, “conversations about privilege, oppression, and race suffer if this invisibility goes unaddressed” (Feminist Perspectives on “Orange is the New Black”, pg. 48). The invisibility of Greg’s skin color and its associated privileges does go unaddressed. Pixar chooses to focus solely on Greg’s sexual orientation, entrenching the emphasis placed on coming out in pop culture at the exclusion of other relevant conversations in the LGBTQ+ movement.

Mind Swap:

Greg eventually opens the door for his parents after carefully hiding the photo in a stack of books on the coffee table. While considering the weight of his secret, sequestered in his bedroom for a moment, Greg looks deep into Jim’s eyes while holding the magic collar and says, “I wish I was a dog.” In a “Freaky Friday”-esque flash, Jim and Greg’s consciousnesses swap. Several near-discoveries of the photo ensue as Greg-in-Jim’s body attempts to keep the photo hidden and Jim-in-Greg’s body sniffs his dad’s butt and disappears chasing a squirrel. In a surprise twist, Greg’s mom reveals that she knew her son was gay. Not only does she know, but she just wants her son to find a man who loves him and to be happy. Greg’s mom’s response to her son’s sexuality is the reaction we hope for, even if it’s not always realistic.

The story has a happy ending: Jim and Greg successfully mind-swap back, Greg brings Manuel home, and the whole family shares hot cocoa. Yay! 

Purple cat and pink dog share a moment of victory at their successful adventure and return through their rainbow portal.

Conclusion:

I love Out’s positive take on coming out. It’s not a gay story by a straight author seeking to increase the studio’s diversity quota. It’s based on the struggle of a real person. It’s not dressed up in glamour or pretention. The style destigmatizes homosexuality and homodomesticity, confronting the sexual othering that is common in pivotal LGBTQ texts (Brian L. Ott & Robert L Mack, Chapter 9: “Queer Analysis”). Hegemonic power structures do not willingly give ground, particularly when it comes to the social education of children. Pixar’s material is geared towards a young audience, an audience that is often ignored in conversations of representation despite the disproportionate impact that media has on youth. For Pixar’s first LGBTQ protagonist, this is a big step in the right direction.

References:

Barak, S. K. “Jenji Kohan’s Trojan Horse: Subversive Uses of Whiteness”. Feminist Perspectives on Orange is the New Black. Pages 45 - 60.

Coyle, J. “With a gay protagonist, Pixar short ‘Out’ makes history”. https://www.seattletimes.com/entertainment/with-a-gay-protagonist-pixar-short-out-makes-history/.

Duran, S. E. (2013). Housebroken: Homodomesticity and the Normalization of Queerness in Modern Family (pp. 95-104). In P. Demory & C. Pullen (Eds.), Queer Love in Film and Television: Critical Essays. Palgrave Macmillan.

Grant, S. M. “We’re All Freaks Together: White Privilege and Mitigation of Queer Community”. Queer in the Choir Room: Essays on Gender and Sexuality in Glee. Pages 69 -83. https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/osu/reader.action?docID=1819253.

Hawkins, L. T. “Coming Out: Challenging Portrayals of Diverse Sexualities”. Queer in the Choir Room: Essays on Gender and Sexuality in Glee. Pgs. 11 - 23.

https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/osu/reader.action?docID=1819253.

Hunter, C. S. (2020). Out [Film]. Pixar Animation Studios & Walk Disney Animation Studios.

Kadi, J. “Homophobic Workers or Elitist Queers?”. Pages 143 - 157.

Mack, B. L. & Ott, L. R. Chapter 9: Queer Analysis in Critical Media Studies.

[butyouvealwaysbeenthecaretaker]

werewolftrial​

I'm curious about your bringing up Jack Halberstam for critique in a recent post. To clarify, is it the combination of his platform + politics with his gender situation that makes the latter feel weird to you? Because I can definitely understand resenting someone who's got a platform from which to say weird stuff that affects people who face trans issues he mostly doesn't face (e.g. healthcare, making more "demands" in terms of names and pronouns, whatever).

Though I don't really think there's anything wrong with his gender situation in abstract, and wouldn't want to give extra scrutiny to someone who's non-normative in some ways. Maybe if I read Female Masculinity or more of his writing I'd feel less sympathetic, though, since he IS a professor with influence in his field, not a teenager trying to figure out their gender on Tumblr.

Good question! It’s a couple of things.

1) The first was how terrible Female Masculinity made me feel. That’s a personal problem, to an extent, but there is a serious dearth of good books for trans men, and when I had a role on a book project esp for transmasculine people, I found maybe one book (that’s Testosterone Files) which I felt was written by a man, for men, about men, in a large sea of basically post-lesbian-butch-cusp-genderqueer-postmodernism.

Which is a fine gender place to be, but its frustrating to have these books constantly recommended to you because those are the writers who dominate our academic space. In contrast, look at how many fantastic trans women there are in both fiction and non-fiction contexts.

2) The second is...I do have a suspicion of what I’d call, political genderqueerness? And that suspicion, like all gatekeeperly urges, is not necessarily the best place to be politically.

But as part of that, I tend to be impatient with discussions of transness which seem to be taking pleasure in radicalism or illegibility, because it doesn’t vibe with my materialist experience of...how terrible it is for you to have an incongrous gender presentation.

So like, their description of how they came to identify in more of a genderweird space is:

When I was doing all that research on drag kings, I was like, well I’m not going to be Judith in this world of genderqueerness, I’m going by a male name. And at that point, I kind of wish I’d gone with the name Jude, because it would’ve been an easier transition for everybody, and for me too, and instead I just picked a very masculine name, I picked Jack, and now it’s stuck. So I’m Jack. But now I’m going more and more by Jack—I’m not transitioning, necessarily, but I’m in a lot of genderqueer contexts where people do gender by gender preference, not by your body, and I totally appreciate that. But then I suddenly had to face up to the question of whether Jack was my preferred name or not. So some people call me Jack, my sister calls me Jude, people who I’ve known forever call me Judith—I try not to police any of it. A lot of people call me he, some people call me she, and I let it be a weird mix of things and I’m not trying to control it.  (source)

And that seems so off to me; although there’s not really any harm or wrongness in changing your name or gendered presentation for light reasons instead of heavy ones, its not necessarily something I feel much connection to. It reads to me like a cisgender person’s understanding of what genderqueer people are - you know, “when you cut your hair and dye it blue and ask for different pronouns to explore gender”; but perhaps we can attribute this to the fact Halberstam is an older writer, with different ways of understanding language and identity.

It’s not totally important to my understanding of self that other people read me as a man. It’s important that they read me as masculine, and it’s important that they read me in some way that I’m at odds with female embodiment. But it’s also important that they read me as someone who is not going to have that tension resolved by getting some surgeries.

And that’s not a terrible place to be, nor is she the first or last person to value being visibly queer - but then that’s her point of entry to transness, and so her interest in a book like “female masculinity” is in that incongruity/contrast, and her book about “passing” is as someone who still finds butch a useful term and tends to understand himself politically as lesbian adjacent, and....

I suppose in some ways, my worry is that writers like Halberstam are (inadvertently) part of a trans respectability politics, presenting as radical ideas which are really quite normative when it comes to actual binary transsexuals. For actual binary transsexuals, the idea that transition is a site of political radicalism, fascination, part of a gender-divergent tradition linked to their asab, a third gender neither male nor female space - those are often the roots of oppression.

It’s just less legible because Halberstam is not a gay man writing about the history of trans women as a series of radical cross-dressers living as a kind of third sex. I think people would be a lot quicker to see why that approach did not pass the sniff test; but we’re so used to accepting this vision of transmasculinity that it’s harder to call out.

3) and finally, I’ve read the first chapter of Trans and you know, it just seems off.

Within the first 21 pages, Halberstam wades in in defence of the bar named “Trannyshack” and defends RuPaul’s use of the word; and then goes on to use the comedy trans woman scene from Monty Python’s Life of Brian as an illustrative example of the pointlessness of trying to control language. There’s definitely a “oh no I will be arrested for using a wrong pronoun :(” vibe to it.

And while I can get on board with that to an extent, I also don’t think it’d be the main thrust of page 14 of chapter one of my book on Transness, was I ever given the opportunity to write one. 

For example, I would not prominently quote Monty Python as a source on transgender politics.

Nor would I be referring to critics of a 1970s comedy skit featuring a non-passing trans woman character written by a bunch of posh cis blokes as “defensive”, and like, is this really the first depiction of a trans woman in a text that comes to mind for Halberstam to use, in the introduction to a new major work, seen as worthy of serious analysis as a representation of transgender politics?

It feels woefully out of touch, and if a cis person tried this we’d rightfully shred them for it - it’s uninformed, detached from real-life activism, it blithely speaks over trans women twice in the first 21 pages without recognising the limits of his perspective, and - you know. It sounds awfully cis to me, and not in ways that can be understood as an older queer person with outdated terminology. 

4)

It feels like Halberstam is using the malleability of queerness and queer gender identities as a kind of shield against critique. So as you say - I agree, there’s definitely nothing wrong with this kind of gender place, and I don’t want to start making demands on who’s ���really trans” based on trivial things like, surgical status or choice of terminology. At the same time, people have to be honest about their limitations.

I feel that Halberstam is presenting themselves as an expert on this topic, without recognising why a cisgender establishment finds her work more palatable and praiseworthy than that of others. Halberstam has a sense of their own radicalism which is inaccurate. Seeing trans people as some weird experimental variant of their birth sex is a standard cissexist trope, as much as Halberstam et al would like it to be the more radical perspective.

We can see it in - for example - seeing physical transition as “resolving gendered ambiguity” in a way that, I think, few transsexual people would agree with. Post-transition bodies rarely resolve gender ambiguity in a straightforward way, and often remain incongruous on a physical level.

So, you know, something just seems...very off-base.

And then to have a book like Female Masculinity maintain status as one of the very few available academic texts theorising transmasculinity. & its basically because its underlying argument is cosy and does not challenge the status quo.

tl;dr as an individual, I’ve nothing against her gendered embodiment; as a thinker, I think she needs to acknowledge her limitations, and especially to read up seriously both on trans feminism and writing by actual transsexual men before approaching this topic again; or to make it clearer that the perspective she’s coming from is a specific niche

& thanks again for a good question

[assless-chapstick]

This is me sending myself an ask… because I am boredt and my teeth hurt and I want to lay in bed….

So I ask myself … how are the Couch AU boys coping with the COVID19 lockdown??? Are they ok??

Tbh I think Charles and John are taking it harder than Arthur and Javi. Like, Arthur and Javier are a little more stable, a little more mentally well/neurotypical, and while everyone is finding it hard, I think Charles and John are struggling more than average.

Charles practically lives at John and Arthurs place, so he’s locked down over there; half his stuff is over there already, and while it might be a little crowded, it’s better than him being alone at his place. He doesn’t have any roommates and he needs to have someone around to help with the anxiety and keep him on a schedule. With Arthur around, he doesn’t sink completely into a depression. Sure, he’s finding it hard to focus and stay motivated and he spends a lot more time on the couch, napping and watching jeopardy and comfort-eating, but he’s not completely vacant and spending all day in bed, forgetting to shower or eat like he might if he was alone.

Arthur has a little gym/studio in the spare bedroom where he draws and does his fuckin bowflex or whatever, and they set Charles up there so he can get some studying done and continue to attend classes online. Charles is just finishing his first year of law school and he’s like, determined not to let this whole situation fuck up his academic career, even if he’s a little worried about it all…

Arthur is going a little stir-crazy; he works at an autobody shop, and they closed for a couple weeks at the beginning so he was out of work for a while. He was all “perfect I can work on my art,” but he’s so used to being super busy working two jobs and going to the gym and shit that having so much free time has been stressful to him. He processes a lot of feelings through anger, so the punching bag on the balcony has taken some pretty rough beatings the past couple weeks…

He’s back at work now, three days a week, so he’s feeling a little better… I think his biggest concern is money, cuz with reduced hours and all the cons he was planning to sell art at being cancelled, his income is reduced, and as a teen/early 20s he struggled a lot so that really scared him… But Dutch and Hosea aren’t too bad off and they’ll help out if he or John are ever in a pinch…

I think Arthur authors/creates a queer cowboy romance webcomic, so he’s been working on that a lot… he’s finally pages ahead and has some updates queued, so if he needs to be can afford to take a break for a week or two! He’s psyched about that. His patreon profits have gone down a little, but he’s got some loyal-ass fans and they’re really helping him thru it, too, I think… and he’s made some new merch for the first time in ages, and has had time to open up more commissions… He and Charles spend a lot of afternoons in the study, listening to Arthur’s vinyls and working together in silence …

So Arthur is doing ok, and Charles is pulling through, but John is having a… really rough go. For someone who seems really chaotic, John really really thrives when he had a routine and a set schedule, and with classes being moved online or canceled, he’s really struggling to keep a routine and as a result, his mental health is suffering. It also doesn’t help that he can’t leave the house and can’t see Javi, a major source of security for him. John runs to get his frustration out, and not feeling like it’s safe to go for a run has him feeling really bad.

He and Javi FaceTime every night, but it’s not the same and John is pretty miserable. He spends a lot of time in his room, music Loud, and he stops sleeping with any sort of regularity. The stress also makes his nightmares worse, I think, so he’s spending a lot more time avoiding sleep, which definitely makes him even bitchier than he would be otherwise. That and the situation have him really snappy, so there’s some Big Fights between him and Arthur; fights over nothing, fighting just to have something to do, to just feel something, because he’s angry with the situation and the feelings and everything… He’d just started to get his life on track and here it is, all out of order again. The uncertainty and instability are really unsettling for him.

I think John’s been seeing his therapist online, but it’s not the same, and he really hates it. In the first few weeks, things were all over the place and he forgot to take his meds and stuff… when Arthur noticed something was wrong, he kind of just started gently helping John remember to do things, just gently coaxing him and reminding him to take his pills, etc…

Like Arthur starts making meal at the same time every day, and cooks for all three of them so John remembers to eat… he makes coffee and sings when he makes breakfast to wake John up, and they watch movies and play boardgames and stuff after dinner, just to keep John on a little bit of a schedule. John usually goes to bed in his own room and climbs into Arthur and Charles’ later in the night, but during this whole thing, he starts going to bed with Arthur and Charles, and that helps too...

I think eventually he gets a little more used to it, once he gets back into a routine and then he’s still having trouble, but he’s doing better…

Javi lives in college dorms, so he’s moved back to living with his mum and his sister, which sucks, but that also means he can borrow his mum’s car… so when John is feeling really bad, one day, Javi throws his guitar in the trunk and goes to John and Arthurs place and stands under the balcony and plays all the dumb joke songs he’s written for John… songs called shit like “im sorry I backwashed in your redbull, flaquita” and “youre a pendejo but I love you anyway” and that cheers them both up…

Also, John makes up little care packages and has Arthur drop them off at Javi’s!! little doodles (John’s been practicing drawing but he’s like, crazy bad, just awful) and poems (marginally better, not great), their favourite snacks, little trinkets from around the house and stuff he picks up on his runs (once he starts going on runs again), and of course, of course, cuz he’s nasty, panties that he MAYBE wore on his run, for Javi to, y’know, do with what he will…

And of course they have a lot of phone sex, especially once John pulls it together a bit… at first he kind of went AWOL and didn’t talk to anyone, let his phone go dead and stuff, but he’s doing better now and now they’re… being quarantine horny …

Javi prefers regular voice phonesex, loves to call John up and tease his girl until John whines for him to stop, ask if John is touching himself when Javi can tell by the hitch of his breath that he is… Javi loves that, but not seeing one another, John insists they do videocalls, even if Javi is a little uncomfortable…

But it leads to some… fun roleplay … John pretends to be an innocent starlet trying to make it big, and Javi is a big-time director that keeps on pushing… “you look so good on camera, babe, but maybe take the bra off, let us see how those little titties of yours look? Don’t be shy, it’s all business, just want to see… grab them for me, that’s it, now show me that ass…”

And they also play like Javi is broadcasting the video to everyone, like all his friends can see what a whore Javi’s girl is, how he can suck that dildo like it was a real cock and how desperate he is for it… they pretend Javi is advertising John as if he’s a thing for sale, like Javi is booking John’s ass by the hour…. All “cmon baby, show them how greedy your pussy is, you’re gonna take so many cocks for me tonight, you’ll be leaking cum by the time they’re done with you, you’ll be so sore but you’ll do it for me, won’t you, flaca? Til you’re rubbed raw and then I’ll slide into your wet, gaping hole…”

And of course, of course, John BIG gets off on watching Javi jerk off into the panties he sends him… Javi maybe even… sniffs them, licks them a little, cuz he misses John so bad and he loves the way John looks in the pale yellow, lacy panties he’s got wrapped around his dick, loves the idea of coming in them and then making John put them back on,…

Aaaand that’s that on that, I think!! So thanks for reading, mister, if you’re still out there somewhere. I have dental surgery tomorrow and I’m more scared than a spider in a shoe factory, so please wish me some luck and send me some non-COVID related asks, iffin you’re feeling it!!

[mandarinastronaut]

different anon but i was wondering if you could go further into why you think boreo stay together and what the romantic moment at the apartment in antwerp was? ive finished the book and while i personally like to think they stay together ive always struggled to find any evidence that they do.

First I have to say that the ending, in my opinion, is poorly written. It feels like an afterthought, and the disconnect from Theo makes you feel he’s no longer the one talking to you, but Tartt herself is. It’s rambly, confusing, and messy. It’s the part of the book that made me feel unsure as to what Tratt’s intent with boreo was, if it was only queerbait, or if she left it up for interpretation merely because she didn’t want the controversies of having an explicitly queer book. Either way, Boris is almost completely forgotten, and so is his and Theo’s relationship. 

That being said, you could interpret that it’s Theo’s fault, rather than Tartt’s. He doesn’t want the reader to know what happened after Antwerp, so he just leaves it, leaves Boris, out. After all, he is still the same extremely unreliable and messy narrator we’ve grown to love since the very first pages of the novel. 

Theo tells us very little, and very briefly, about his time in Antwerp. This is suspicious because he and Boris must’ve shared some important moments there, since this is straight after Amsterdam and also the last time Boris is mentioned. It’s very obvious that he doesn’t want us to know what happened there. But luckily we can make an educated guess.

Tartt relies very heavily on symbolism in her work, and this book is no exception. Drugs are probably the main tool she uses in tgf, besides the painting. Boris, for example, symbolizes everything Theo thinks, or is supposed to think, is bad and unhealthy. He symbolizes drugs, criminality, wildness, freedom, queerness, vulnerability, and so on. So let’s analyze the Antwerp scene.

“Do you ever think about quitting? I asked, during the boring part of It’s a Wonderful Life, the moonlight walk with Donna Reed, when I was in Antwerp watching Boris with spoon and water from an eyedropper, mixing himself what he called a ‘pop’. 

Give me a break! My arm hurts!…”

“…Well, big stigma and fear, I understand. Me–honest, I prefer to sniff most times–clubs, restaurants, out and about, quicker and easier just to duck in men’s room and do a quick bump. This way–you always crave it. On my death bed I will crave it. Better never to pick it up. Although–really very irritating to see some bonehead sitting there smoking out of a crack pipe and make some pronouncement of how dirty and unsafe, they would never use a needle, you know? Like they are so much more sensible than you? 

Why did you start?

Why does anyone? My girl left me! Girl at the time. Wanted to be all bad and self-destructive, hah. Got my wish.

Jimmy Stewart in his varity sweater. Silvery moon, quavery voices. Buffalo Gals won’t you come out tonight, come out tonight.

So, why not stop then? I said.

Why should I?

Do I really have to say why?

Yeah, but what if I don’t feel like it?

If you can stop, why wouldn’t you?

Live by the sword, die by the sword, said Boris briskly, hitting the putton on his very professional-looking medical tourniquet with his chin as he was pushing up his sleeve. 

And as terrible it is, I get it. We can’t choose what we want and don’t want and that’s the hard lonely truth. Sometimes we want what we want even though we know it’s going to kill us. We can’t escape who we are…” (862-863)

a lot to unpack there oh boy

Boris is injecting himself with heroin. It’s one of the most amazing sensory pleasures one could experience, and it’s often compared to sensual pleasures; orgasms. He says he’ll crave it on his death bed. This very brief moment they share is intimate, and isn’t completely what it seems to be on the surface. Yes, they are talking about literal drugs and addiction, but they’re also addressing the feelings they have for each other–Boris will crave the sexual feelings he has for Theo, but also the strong emotional bond they share (love), and ultimately, Theo as a whole. 

Boris says he began because a girl left him, and if I remember correctly, this was after Theo left Vegas (I’m pretty sure I’m correct, bc I really don’t remember Boris doing it back then, but correct me if I’m wrong). Theo left him completely and utterly alone, and that’s when he started. The timeline matches, so it’s plausible, if not likely.

Boris explains he doesn’t want to stop. So what if it’s bad? So what if it’s a sin? So what if it’ll kill me? In the words of Achilles (from The Song of Achilles) I wouldn’t stop. And Theo says he understands. He says two very suggestive and convenient lines; we can’t choose what we want, we can’t escape who we are. I’m sure I don’t even have to breakdown the subtextual meaning behind that, it’s so blatant.

And this whole conversation’s happening while the famously acclaimed romantic scene from It’s a Wonderful Life plays in the background. Tartt deliberately chose a cinematic masterpiece of a romance scene for this conversation. And if that doesn’t create enough of a romantic atmosphere for the scene, this does. You see, the moon is an occurring symbolic tool in tgf. Theo’s mother told him to look up at the moon when he felt homesick, Boris is quite literally the moon as his Islamic name Badr means moon, and at one point Theo asks Boris if the moon looks the same everywhere, to which Boris of course replies yes you fucking idiot. So adding this very specific movie sequence where James Stewart promises to lasso the moon for Mary, is not a coincidence. @zombiebowlcut has a separate post regarding this, so here’s that!

Theo’s final monologue is about having a heart that cannot be trusted, about wanting things you shouldn’t want, not having the yearning to conform to conventional social constructs, not getting to choose your own heart, not getting to choose the person you are, and finally about how to confront this, if you should stuff your ears with wax like Kitsey, or if you should embrace it like Boris, throw yourself headfirst and laughing into the holy rage calling your name; if you should live inauthentically or authentically. And Theo chooses the latter. He’s done with crime, since he’s finally unchained from the painting. He’s buying back the fake antiques, and he’s not getting married to Kitsey. The only thing missing from Theo’s truth is his sexuality, and furthermore Boris. And that, is why I believe you can interpret they end up together in the end.

[heyomag]

‘Girly Mags’ Takes Us on Stroll Down 90s and 00s Memory Lane

Instagram feed curates the best from teen magazines from the 1990s and early 2000s featuring Paris Hilton, LeeLee Sobieski and more.

Though I was probably too young to really grasp what it meant, when I was younger, and when the house was empty, I would sneak into my older sister’s room, lie in her bed and stare at the poster of Luke Perry she had ripped from the pages of Teen Beat (or something similar) and pinned to her ceiling. Never one for Sports Illustrated, I was always more intrigued by what salacious news was circulating the teen atmosphere.

After studying the pages of Tiger Beat, I would have hour-long internal debates as to whether I agreed with their conclusion that J.T.T. was indeed dreamier than Devon Sawa.

The life of a pre-pubescent boy (deep in the closet) in the 90s is something worth romanticizing.

But Girly Mags IG feed provides that trip down memory lane so many of us have been longing for in these shitty times. Girly Mag gives us that warm and fuzzy feeling that only ‘90s and Early 00’s Nostalgia’ can provide. It brings us back to a simpler time, albeit less convenient time, of ordering clothes from a glossy magazine page through the US mail and sharing an actual page with friends, rather than sharing a meme through DMs. 

I’m thrilled that the girls behind Girly Mags have grown up to create their own media company complete with a podcast, awesome music playlists and Patreon. The podcast is basically a group of friends sitting around discussing the mags through the lense of grown-ass women (and men). Read the latest episode description below to get hooked and check out their latest episode here.

COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE NOVEMBER 1994 This bittersweet episode marks the end of an era. Lauren Prussky, AKA editor extraordinaire and Girly Mags loudmouth is on to greener pastures. But don’t fret – this episode is full of bangers, sing-a-longs, tears and tons of laughs, with a few freaky surprises along the way. We’re heading back to the time of holey jeans, 1-900 numbers and catty celebrity feuds of the ‘90s. Jump in the Girly Mags whip for another ride around the nostalgia block – this episode is one for the books!

IN THIS ISSUE

This Month in History – November 1994

Agony – Hotline Bling + Old Wrinkly Balls

Hollywood Babble On – Celebrity Deathmatch

The Surprising Things Men Find Sexy

When Straight Women Marry Gay Men

Quiz: Are You Ready for Romance?

OK, BACK TO INSTAGRAM:

Admittedly, not all posts resonate with this Queer 30-somethings Cis Male but we do think a few posts needed to be highlighted in order to properly pay tribute to the feed and mags of yesteryear.

LeeLee Sobieski did no wrong

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 Me vs me after watching Thirteen in 2003 @evanrachelwood @nikkireed YES I KNOW IT’S LEELEE SOBIESKI

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Nov 12, 2019 at 3:38pm PST

Body Glitter < SPF

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 Don’t forget the roll-on body glitter ❄💎✨ (Via @doyoulovethe2000s)

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Nov 10, 2019 at 1:57pm PST

Sassy  Magazine

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 ❄⛸🧤 (Sassy, November 1994) #tbt #throwbackthursday 📷 by @georgeholzofficial

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Nov 7, 2019 at 10:46am PST

Oh God

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 BREAKING NEWS: EMO SCENE KIDS (2007) rawr XD 🦖

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Nov 6, 2019 at 12:30pm PST

Was a thing for a minute

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 HIT CLIPS (1999)

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Nov 5, 2019 at 5:14pm PST

Forever roaming

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 Everyone in 2001 when the clock hit 9:00pm 🕘

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Nov 4, 2019 at 5:18pm PST

Wuz ^?

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 ☆ weLcOme 2 My HoMePaGe ☆

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Nov 4, 2019 at 12:08pm PST

Prom Makeovers

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 Prom makeovers 💅👑 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ (Seventeen, March 1995) Follow @girly.mags for all your ’90s needs!

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Nov 3, 2019 at 9:59am PST

Scratch and sniff clothing

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 Scratch ‘n sniff pajamas and glow-in-the-dark undies 💀⚰️ (Girlfriends LA, 1996-1999)

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Oct 16, 2019 at 6:57pm PDT

Still <3 Paris Hilton

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 Wow same tbh

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Oct 5, 2019 at 1:42pm PDT

Roller Skates or Roller blades?

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 Would you date someone who rollerblades, 👍 or 👎 (Seventeen, August 1991)

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Oct 3, 2019 at 12:49pm PDT

Skeet Ulrich – enough said.

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 Enjoy this recap of the season 6 90210 Thanksgiving episode featuring Cameron Bancroft AKA Joe Bradley AKA Donna’s post-Ray Pruitt hunky meathead 🏈 Joe is a California University football team quarterback who dates Donna Martin. On the night of their first date on Halloween, Donna was confronted at her beach house by Ray Pruit, her former abusive boyfriend with whom she had recently ended her relationship. Joe came to her defense, tossing Ray around like a football in self-defense. During Thanksgiving, which happens to be Joe’s birthday, Donna arranges for 49ers QB Steve Young to surprise Joe. Because Young apparently could skip practice that day and also had no family or friends he wanted to spend the holiday with, he actually showed up to Casa Walsh and played an impromptu game with the gang on the front lawn using the football he autographed for Joe. In the same episode, Donna tells Kelly that she loves Joe so much, she wants to sleep with him. Joe later revealed to Donna that he was also a virgin and, like her, was waiting for marriage to have sex. He had also been engaged to his high school girlfriend, who had gotten too wild for him after they graduated. He was a devout Christian who lived a life of faith. He asks Donna to move to Beaver Falls with him after being diagnosed with a heart defect (by Donna’s dad) and the two part ways. (Seventeen, November 1996)

A post shared by Girly Mags Podcast (@girly.mags) on Sep 30, 2019 at 3:10pm PDT

For those of you not as interested in pursuing teen year through digitized Girly Mags feed, check out the On Foot Archives featuring some Eastbay Catalog clippings and much more!

The post ‘Girly Mags’ Takes Us on Stroll Down 90s and 00s Memory Lane appeared first on HEYO Mag.

from HEYO Mag https://heyomag.com/girly-mags-takes-us-on-stroll-down-90s-and-00s-memory-lane/

[canideadmeow]

okay i did not know oscar wilde fell in love w lord alfred douglas.

[armada-of-ships-against-antis]

Gush about some of your favorite ships please

Sorry for the long wait, but I think I might be ready for this now. (and before anybody wonders, of course it is in the middle of the night and I should go to bed now! Cause it’s the best time to gush over your ships!)

Okay lets begin with Spirk - man I was raised being a Trekkie and to be honest I never saw the great appeal of Kirk, cause my fucking younger than 10 year old heart already belonged to that vulcan! And I bailed my eyes out when he died! But after Kirk and the crew did everything to bring him back, I was like: Okay Kirk is a good one, okay! Nobody will ever be able to seperate them, only over my dead body. Back then it was more about the friendship but I’ll be dammned if I didn’t become a Spirk shipper some 10 years later when rewatching it. But why stop there, get Bones into the fun, too! Try to provoke that human side of Spock, trigger some unlogical feelings, try to beat him in 3d chess!

Okay bear with me there are three other Star Trek ships I wanna gush about!  I pretty much watched the series in the order they came out, so next was TNG that I saw, and although I loved data to every bit and byte of his android being, I was at a loss for a love interest for him. Okay there is always Geordie I guess or Picard, but TNG never hold a deep appeal for me in that field. So on to DS9. When I saw it as a kid, is was boring shit with all that politics and religion. I was around 18 when I rewatched and then in only the fourth episode I became suddenly aware of how motherfucking much Garak flirted with Julian Bashir! And I fell so deeply in love for their weird dynamic of a young and easily impressible human doctor with a mysterious cardassian spy tailor. I ran around showing scenes with them to people who were not shippers and they agreed, that there was tension. And right there was my first time finding background informations about my ship. It was there! I didn’t just interpret too much!  Andrew Robinson, the actor said himself he thought of Elim Garak as an omnisexual character who had a certain interest in Julian. It was absolutely mindblowing to me (also I started to google what omnisexual meant and found about pansexuality, so this is kinda part of finding my own identity, thanks to the closeted representation of a queer alien in sci-fi show from the 90s)

Okay two more and I’m done with Star Trek. But both are from Voyager. Throughout the series I loved the chemistry between Janeway and Chakotay. The slightly forbidden, the pressure, the loneliness of being captain of a ship so far away she probably would never see her husband again. Tragic shit and so perfect set up.  And then came Seven of Nine and manged to shake things up. Suddenly I was a multi shipper, because I couldn’t decide if she or Chakotay should be with Kathryn. The one was loving, supporting and the other was awkward, learning new things about finding humanity again. One was frowned upon because of their ranks and the other because Seven was still more borg than human in how she behaved. So pretty cold, while also confused a ton of times and Janeway ALWAYS had the time and nerves to explain it to her. Just like the doctor (who speaking between us is also a solid shipping option for Seven!)

Damn I tricked you by forgetting myself, that I did develop a shipping crush on Q x Picard. Damn have you ever seen those two interacting. The cockiness in the room, the mocking tone, the resistance. Have you seen those scenes you could perfectly take out of context and already have a “morning after sex” scenario?

Good now let’s take a deep breath and come to the Harry Potter fandom. Or in my case Severus Snape’s playground to be shipped to literally everybody! If it had Snape in it, I would read Everything during that time. Snarry was my most favourite, followed by Snape x Lucius, Remus, Sirius. But I also was looking into x Hermione, Draco, Lily, James, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Ron, Neville (Oh what a small and angsty ship), Bellatrix, Voldemort, Narcissa, Tonks, hell I even read one with Hagrid! (Okay I admit I didn’t enjoy that). Snape was my shipping bitch. Beside that I was of course loving Sirius x Remus.

Okay we move a tiny bit backwards in my life timeline, because before I started to excessively ship my ship bitch with everybody that was breathing, I had a rare ship in Final Fantasy (VII to be more precisely). Hojo x Vincent. You know just your ordinary crazy, mentally instable old (as in probably 60 years old) mad scientist having his way with a young agent from a special task force who canonly had a love interest in his wife… yeah. You know the totally normal stuff you ship every day!  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

I mean I also had the regular Cloud x Sephiroth, Cid x Vincent, Cloud x Tifa, Tifa x Aeris, Reno x Rude or Rufus and so on, but hell yeah I wrote one of my longest fanfictions with most of my OCs for Hojo and Vincent and someone commented on it. That person became my fucking best friend for now over 13 years who went with me through so much shit but is still my shipping partner in crime till now.

Together we discovered the movie Megamind and watched it more than 10 times in one week! We were so instantly on board with Megamind x Roxanne that it nearly hurt. And when we started an rpg, we shipped the fuck out of them, gave Minion a mermaid to love and that was the most perfect and sweet shit. They are just adorable! He’s such a goofball, sick with love only hold back because of his supervillain image.

I also met my second girlfriend via fanfiction comment. I had written a smut one shot about Tarrant Hightopp, the mad Hatter with ‘his’ Alice. That was also the first one I attempted to translate into English. When we met for the first time, we also watched Alice in Wonderland around 10 times together and we were in love with the lovely dynamic. We were frustrated when we found out, there was even a kiss in the script that never made it to the fucking screen! It was outrageous! I started to learn how to write a scottish accent and strew in some scottish words in our rpg to make it more authentic.

(And after that I managed to pull her into the pit of the Harry Potter fandom, hell I even pulled her into the pit of shipping mlm which she didn’t like until Snupin. But our main ship was suddenly Snape with her OC and we wrote a lot. Like between 2-8k word for one single post in our rpg! In the end we had enough to fill two books. We did even cosplay as them.)

Let’s get back to the Final Fantasy fandom a bit and let me gush over the other ships I had over the years. I’m still a huge Squall x Quistis shipper from part 8 and Laguna x Kiros! I also have an eye on Cifer x Fu-Jin (hah one eye, cause she has a an eyepatch, urgh I know that was a bad joke). And while I started as a big Auron x Tidus shipper, it shifted more to Auron x Rikku. I shipped them when I was about 15 (her age) and I thought I wasn’t allowed to do that, so I made a whole fucking AU where she was older and it developed into a totally original story of my own, which I have never ever written down even one page). With X-2 I satisfied myself with Paine x Rikku, they were such cute opposites of each other, I couldn’t resist! Only some years ago I played FF 15 and damn it was a shipping paradise again for me. Like all of the four protagonists are a match for each other! And then Ardyn appeared and made me weak in the knees. So Ardyn x Noctis but also just because those the truly most favorite characters: Ardyn x Ignis. Not exactly the fluffy happy stuff, I can tell you that. Manipulation, angst, abuse it had it all.

I can’t talk about Final Fantasy and leave Kingdom Hearts out, so yeah I started as a typical Sora x Riku (not Rikku from FF 10) fangirl and with part 2 I also feel for Axel x Roxas. I know, I know but at least with Organisation 13 you had a whole bunch of shippable characters. Just make one or two of them your shipping bitch, in my case Xemnas and Xigbar and ship the shit out those guys with everybody you can think of in the organisation.

And when we are already talking about Kingdom Hearts, I just jump into Disney a bit. Like every girls dream was to find their prince, ect and I was like: yeah Mulan and Shan Yu seem to fit nicely… Frollo is a fucking ass creep, but damn that scene in the cathedral when he sniffs Esmeraldas hair… Jasemine you look good in that red slave outfit for Jafar to be honest and dear Adam, you should have stayed a beast for Belle. Happy ruining your childhood. You’re welcome. :D Not that I shiped those during seeing those movies the first time, but you know I rewatch stuff!

Good okay let’s check the watch… good 1 hour later…. I’m not gonna finish this any time soon…. I’m sorry. I just tried to make a list of ships that seem important to me and I would probably write another hour or two. I just hope this satisfies you for the moment ;)

If you or anybody else wants to hear about more video game, movies or series ships and me writing an essay about that shit… feel free to ask I guess LMAO

Good Night dear people (or maybe not I see 15 messages on my dash)

[firewindmill]

PSA

Gonna speak for myself and only for myself first and foremost. If you find something in this that’s for you, feel free to identify with it. If you don’t find something here for yourself, then it isn’t for you.

In case it isn’t clear, the person who runs pics of shiro, keith and sheith blogs is Mexican (Nican Tlaca/latinx, I use all these terms for myself), queer (biromantic, demisexual, trans with he/they pronouns), autistic and affected by scoliosis that will only get worse as I age if I don’t take care of it with careful maintenance. In case people have trouble believing who OP is (@Firewindmill aka me, Nemo) — know that all my pics of blogs are side-blogs and I specifically chose to remove my main avatar from the side-blogs because that’s my choice provided to me by this website — it gives the idea that these are all professional looking main blogs. Occasionally this may become apparent that they are side-blogs when I make a mistake and reblog something to these blogs intended for my main blog but I try to delete them quickly to amend my mistake, and some of you have kindly told me when I do and I appreciate it, I am an imperfect human being after all.

I want to speak to the entitlement and oppressive actions that people seem to have in online spaces simply because the space is public. I’ll go into that under the cut.

Because of what happened over on my blog pics of Keith, I’ll be focusing on that, but the overall sentiments are the same for all the blogs I administrate, including those working with me.

I headcanon that Keith is biracial/mixed race (I think of him as mixed asian/latinx), queer, trans and autistic. He doesn’t have to be for you but he is for me and for many other people, not always at once and sometimes people relate differently to his character based on their own perceived experiences that I can’t relate to but I don’t go on people’s posts to derail/hijack it. That’s what my own blog is for, to make my own posts and create my own content. Some of you may have enjoyed or seen my answer to an anonymous user about trans!keith headcanons. I chose to answer it with “headcanons” because it’s not necessarily canon, perhaps even the evidence is weak on why I think something is the way it is for a character — but sometimes headcanons are completely baseless and people just say ridiculous things to be funny, to have fun, have a laugh but the end point is to feel good, and for trans headcanons, it’s to find something in someone that we see in ourselves and make us feel good. If anyone has a problem with trans!keith, haven’t you heard? There’s a blacklist option now on tumblr and for mobile so if that ruins the character for you then use it and blacklist it so I don’t have to see your comments shitting on people who like it. (Meanwhile, to any followers who see that post, it’s up to you to also block those users, a lot of them are transmedicalists/right wingers etc and are overall have this entitled attitude. Do not engage the way I did, that’s my job and I do it professionally.)

With that, just because a website/blog is public, doesn’t mean that etiquette ceases to exist. My analogy is that I’ve opened my backyard for 24 hours for people to check out my garden. Here, I chill in my hammock, sniff the flowers, observe birds at the birdfeeder at a distance. My rules include people not overwhelming the hammock and taking turns, people not picking flowers or destroying them because they don’t “like” them, and people maintaining a distance from the birdfeeder to not scare off the birds. It’d also be nice that people pick up after themselves if they make a mess etc common sense stuff.

So let’s say someone pulls their pants down, takes a shit.

Pretty gross right? Well its my right to kick them out because it’s still my yard. I don’t have to take abusive behavior in a public or private space.

Another good example is this restaurant analogy on twitter, it’s a good read if you have time for it.

It should go without saying that I will never ever let bigotry in any form be perpetuated on my posts and I will rarely reblog my responses to the pics of blogs except to my main so that they exist in prosperity for the most part in a public venue as receipts. I will not be gaslighted, and even take screenshots for my own protection because these are public blogs. Because I’m Mexican and literally moderate several pages online to ban bigoted user comments from pages, comments that seek to silence marginalized voices of people of color, I use the tools at my disposal, the wonderful block button to control who interacts with me and my audience that enjoys the specific brand of fan experience that I provide with my unique personality. People have been thankful for how safe they feel to express themselves because of it, and my life mission has been to amplify voices less heard, including my own.

Because I’m Mexican, I seek to decolonize myself daily and analyze my behavior to deconstruct anti-blackness within myself, and shed any homophobia and transphobia, to confront misinformation and reblog posts by people affected by their own unique issues while not speaking over them or adding unnecessary commentary. Because I’m queer, I will not ever make fun of people for seeing themselves in fictional characters, nor let homophobia or transphobia be perpetuated on any of my posts either, whether it’s from other trans people deciding what other trans folks do or don’t do, or from cis people, I don’t let it slide. And because I’m autistic, I won’t let ableism slide, I won’t let people speak badly about any other issues or headcanons based on disabilities whether mental or physical. I won’t let anyone come between me and the communities I’m in to divide us with their terf/truscum rhetoric either.

I want people that follow my blogs to see that I am active in what I claim to be my values, which is why you see the evidence on my main blog that I walk the walk and not just talk. I want people who have recently followed my blogs and don’t know me to know where I stand so they either feel reassured or can take a hike if they don’t — I’m not here to recruit for a club, I’m just a fan curating my fan experience, MY way, and you either like it or you don’t but you don’t control what I say, think, or do. I don’t need you.

That’s all I’ve got to say for now.

[basaliskwrites]

Comic Script 2 - Sundown

"Sundown" is a comic originally published in the horror-themed 4th volume of the Lilies Anthology series: Spider Lily. This was a collaborative effort, written by myself and illustrated by the incomparable Sparklenaut.

"Monstrous, predatory and villainous depictions of queer people continue to be a common occurrence in modern day media. What to do, when in the middle of being nervous about your “first time together” your girlfriend starts growing enormous claws and teeth that could tear you in half? When the sun is setting, the lines between hopes, fears, fantasy and reality are blurred. Can the fear of intimacy be conquered, and does love belong even to those with a fuzzy snout?"

 - Sparklenaut

 Page 1 - 4 panels:

 Panel 1:

Establishing shot, showing the location and environment. This panel shows a small house, tucked away somewhere in a city/built-up area. It is late evening, and only one light on the upper floor is switched on. In the foreground, crows caw ominously.

 Panels 2 and 3:

These are transitional shots, showing the two characters, A and B, walking into a room, from the perspective of the room itself. B walks in first, and A follows after. In panel 3, A produces a key from her pocket.

A is wearing comfortable clothes, including baggy jeans,a t-shirt and a red flannel shirt.

 Panel 4:

A stands in the centre of the panel, as she LOCKS the door from the inside. For the first time we see her face, and she has a concerned expression. In her long, fluffy hair, there is a PINK RIBBON tied in a bow. She addresses B, who is off-screen.

A:        Are you sure you want to do this?

 Page 2 - 6 Panels:

 Panels 1, 2 and 3:

These are more transitional shots, while A talks to B, who remains off-screen. A is clearly cleaning up the room, though it is still not obvious which room in her house this is. In the first panel, she is placing delicate items into boxes. In the second, she is drawing the curtains, allowing the reader to see the setting sun on the horizon. In the third panel, she is clearing furniture into the corners of the room-

A:        It’s just that...

A:        I always thought…

A:        People like me shouldn’t…

A:     Do this kind of thing with people like you.

 Panel 4:

This panel features a close-up of B’s face - she is much more stylish than A, with short, curly blonde hair and an undercut. She gives A a reassuring grin, but she is holding up a pair of shining metal HANDCUFFS.

B:         Do I look like I’m being held against my will?

 Panel 5:

A, who is rolling up a huge rug in the middle of her room, smiles and laughs.

A:     Haha, of course not!

 Panel 6:

A close-up of A’s face shows that, while she laughed at B’s joke, she is still worried and concerned.

 Page 3 - 3 panels:

 Panel 1:

This is a wide-angle shot, featuring A standing alone in the room holding the rolled-up RUG. The room is revealed to be her BEDROOM, with a bed to one side, and HUGE SCRATCHES can be seen all over the hardwood floor where the rug used to be. This shot makes A seem SMALL and VULNERABLE.

 Panel 2:

Close-up of the HANDCUFFS, dangling by B’s side, as she addresses her GIRLFRIEND:

B:         Are you ready?

 Panel 3:

This panel shows A laying out a small ‘doggy mat’, something that one might place in a dog basket, or in a cage.

A:     Yeah, I think so.

 Page 4 - 4 Panels:

 Panel 1:

This panel shows A’s bare feet and lower legs, while her OVERSHIRT falls to the ground - she is now stripping naked, making it more clear that she is to become the WEREWOLF.

 Panel 2:

Close-up of A’s arm, as B locks the HANDCUFFS around A’s WRIST. They talk to each other, though we cannot see either of their faces.

B:             Will these hold you?

A (NERVOUS):     W-well, they always have in the past!

 Panel 3:

A is now sitting naked on the little MAT she laid out earlier. The HANDCUFFS are connected to a RADIATOR by her side, so that she cannot leave this spot. She is looking self-conscious and nervous, clearly anxious about the night to come. A narrow gap in the curtains (out of shot) leaves a narrow strip of light up the middle of A’s body. The same DEEP SCRATCHES on the floor from before are visible here.

 Panel 4:

B lies awake in bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. Her arms, crossed behind her head, shows that she has no intention of sleeping. There is the suggestion, from her being in bed, that some time has passed.

A (OUT):         You know…

 Page 5 - 5 Panels:

 Panel 1:

Close-up of A’s feet, showing that she is fidgeting nervously. The sunset is bathing her in increasing shades of red and orange.

A:     This is the first time I’ve had anyone with me.

 Panel 2:

Close-up now of A’s face. She is looking away from the reader, gazing at the floor nervously, but she is now smiling a little. This suggests that she is feeling a little more comfortable with her situation, and with B’s presence.

A:     It’s been a bit scary, but now I’m really excited about that!

 Panel 3:

A wide-angle shot of the setting sun outside. The sun is now only a small glimmer above the rooftops.

 Panel 4:

This panel shows the floor by A’s feet again, but instead of showing her nervous fidgeting, we can see her arm, still restrained by the HANDCUFFS, but now sporting a set of claws that are digging SCRATCHES into the floor.

A:     In fact… It’s like I’m even more excited than usual!

 Panel 5:

Now we see A’s face again, and she is staring directly at the reader. Her eyes are much more feral than before, and her wide grin shows long, sharp teeth.

A:     I’m pumped! It’s hard to sit still! I can’t wait to be over there with you.

 Page 6 - 6 Panels:

 Panels 1-6:

In these panels, we see fantasies and fears through A’s mind’s eye, as the power of the FULL MOON (not shown) starts to rise within her. She continues her monologue to B, detailing her physical desires, and there are parallels drawn between her sexual fantasy and the fears of her predatory urges.

In the first panel, they are passionately kissing.

In the second, her desire to kiss her lover and “taste” her skin has taken on a more monstrous appearance within her mind, and she is leaving LOVEBITES with sharp teeth and long claws on B’s NECK and SHOULDERS.

The third panel shows her monstrous mouth, licking her lips with a savage hunger.

In the fourth panel, the WOLF in her mind has taken over more, and we can see B scrambling towards the reader, huge CLAWS reaching out of the SHADOWS behind her.

In the fifth panel, B is running for the LOCKED bedroom door, with the shadow of A’s enormous, LUPINE body cast over her.

In the sixth panel, a TERRIFIED B is pinned to the ground beneath the formless horror of A.

A:     I wanna hold you so tight I can feel your soft skin against mine…

A:     I wanna make out with you so I can taste your lips and leave dumb                marks all over your neck...

A:     I wanna go wild, and feel the rush of your beating heart...

A:     I wanna run my nails through your hair and down your spine...

A:     I wanna feel my teeth against your skin, so I can taste everything                about you…

 Page 7 - 4 Panels:

 Panel 1:

This is an entirely black panel, as A has closed her eyes during her fantasy, and features only B’s speech bubbles. She is shouting, to break A out of her reverie.

B:         Hey!

B:         Hey! You okay?

 Panel 2:

Close-up on A’s EYES, open wide with panic and fright. Her eyes are now RED, but are looking less FERAL than before.

 Panel 3:

Panel depicting B holding A by the shoulders, having crossed the room during A’s FANTASY. B looks at A, worried, while A is staring up at the moon with a terrified expression, which is bathing them both in a pale white light.

 Panel 3:

A view out of the window from B and A’s perspectives, featuring the FULL MOON that will complete A’s transformation.

A (OUT):         I-I’m scared.

  Page 8 - 6 Panels:

 Panels 1-5:

These are the transitional panels that depict A’s transformation. The transformation is grotesque and uneven, shown mostly through suggestion.

In the first, she is silhouetted against the FULL MOON, as FUR sprouts all over her body and her hands start to become huge PAWS.

In the second, we see her FACE as it loses its last shred of humanity.

In panels 3, 4 and 5, we see glimpses of her huge CLAWS, long fur and wolf-like MUZZLE.

 Panel 6:

The now fully-transformed A towers over B, who stares up at her with a TERRIFIED expression.

Page 9 - 4 Panels:

 Panels 1 and 2:

These panels show A and B, who is now cowering some distance away from A. A is sitting silently on the floor, and doesn’t seem to move. In the second panel, B starts to realise that A is not moving, and pauses. A is an enormous creature, a mostly formless monster made up of jet black fur with canine features and a pair of white, glowing EYES.

 Panel 3:

Close-up of A staring directly at the reader (and B, out of shot) with her expressionless EYES. They do not openly show any emotion, and she still has not moved. The cute pink RIBBON is still attached to A, now sitting behind one of her EARS.

 Panel 4:

Close-up of B, who is still afraid and cowering. She tries to reach out to A with her voice. She is afraid that A will not recognise her, and might react violently if confused.

B:         B-Baby?

 Page 10 - 7 Panels:

 Panel 1:

Shows B’s feet, as she walks slowly across the room towards A. To highlight the danger, the DEEP SCRATCHES are clearly visible on the floor.

 Panel 2:

Close-up on B’s face, sweating nervously but forcing a reassuring smile, as she reaches out her hand towards A.

B:         H-Hey there sweetie…

B:        I’m...

B:         I’m gonna Trust you now, okay?

 Panel 3:

Close-up on A’s ears, that twitch as B talks.

B (OUT):     I'm gonna come a bit closer, alright?

 Panel 4:

This panel shows that B is now much closer to A, nervously reaching out to her. A is looking at her with CURIOUSITY.

 Panel 5:

Close-up on B’s face again, now even more nervous and lacking the reassuring smile from before.

 Panels 6 and 7:

B’s HAND reaches out towards A’s NOSE, which sniffs at her with interest. In panel 6, her hand shakes with fear at the cautious sniffing, but in panel 7, A has clearly recognised her GIRLFRIEND, and presses her NOSE happily into B’s HAND.

 Page 11 - 4 Panels:

 Panel 1:

Closeup on A’s tail, which wags eagerly at B’s touch. Now that A regonises her, her body language and depiction is much less frightening.

 Panel 2:

Close-up on A and B’s faces. A has gotten closer to B, and affectionately LICKS her FACE with a huge pink tongue. B laughs, raising her arm as if to ward herself against the gross lick.

B (LAUGHING):         Hey! Cut it out!

 Panel 3:

B scratches A affectionately behind the EARS, showing A’s RIBBON. A has her EYES closed with HAPPINESS.

 Panel 4:

B hugs A’s enormous head affectionately, and the two share a tender moment of shared relief and love.

B:         See? This isn’t so bad, you’re doing great!

B:         I’m glad you’re okay, sweetie.

 Page 12 - 4 Panels:

 Panel 1:

B has A’s PAW placed on her lap, while she removes the HANDCUFFS. Because A has grown so much, the HANDCUFFS are now painfully tight around her WRIST and looks as though it has been rubbed RAW.

B:         Aww, sweetie… I knew these were a silly idea.

 Panel 2:

Close-up of B’s hand, as she lights some romantic CANDLES.

 Panel 3:

B embraces A’s HEAD once again, placing a KISS upon A’s FOREHEAD. The CANDLES have replaced the lighting of the MOON with a warm, orange glow.

 Panel 4:

A large, open panel featuring B leading A over to the bed, now confident in her GIRLFRIEND’s self-control. They both seem HAPPY, and any trace of a threatening atmosphere has vanished from A’s appearance.

B:         Now come on, you!

B:         We’ve only got all night!

 END.

[dorthyanndrarry]

Tea At Three -1-

Rating: Teen and up for blood and bodily injury

Tags: auror!Harry, potionmaker!Draco, oblivious!Draco

This is Part 1 of a four five-part series. Links at the bottom of the page.

“I'll take over,” Donna said in her light Irish accent right behind his shoulder, nearly making Draco drop his stirring rod.

“You will do no such thing,” Draco said, leaning protectively over his cauldron.

Donna sighed, “It's nearly three, innit? You always go on break at three. You're only finishing up a blood replenishing potion, I can manage that much.”

Draco glanced over at the clock on the wall which showed five til and tried to pretend it didn't matter, “It's just tea. Blood replenishing potions aren't cheap or easy to make.”

Donna was not amused. A few strands of her tightly curled back hair had fallen around her face and pushed them back irritably, “I could finish 'em in my sleep. The first half's the hard part. Come on then.” she nudged his shoulder.

Draco glared at her, “I am your superior.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Donna rolled her eyes, “Hired a whole year ahead of me, good on ya.”

“Why is this important to you?” Draco ask suspiciously.

Donna smirked a bit, “Your snake is showing.”

“That could be taken as harassment,” Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

Donna frowned at him, eyes narrowing. Her dark skin hid any flush of embarrassment she might have had.

The timer went off announcing that it was time for the next ingredient followed by stirring clockwise ten times, counter five. Donna did not interrupt him until he'd finished and set the next timer.

“First off,” Donna ticked a finger, “you aren't really my type so I wouldn't bother. Second off, you're queer as a bottle of chips an' don't deny it.”

Draco flushed and glared furiously at her, though he neither confirmed nor denied it, it wasn't worth the trouble where Donna was concerned, especially when they both knew it was true.

“As for why it's important to me, well,” she glanced away with a grin, “you always come back in a good mood so don't have to deal with nearly as much of your pissing an' moaning.”

Draco stiffened, “I do not-”

“That, and you an' Auror Potter are bloody cute together,” she went on.

Draco flushed from his collarbone all the way up to his ears, “I- We are- It's not-” he protested.

Donna grinned, put her hand firmly on his shoulder and slowly pushed him out of his chair, sitting down in his place, “Very cute,” she said with a nod, holding her hand out for the stirring rod.

Draco was very tempted not to give it to her. Donna was his assistant, she wasn't supposed to order him about, not that that had ever stopped her so far.

“You're going to be late.” Donna said, glancing pointedly at the clock, “What if he doesn't wait for you?”

Draco followed her gaze, where the clock's minute hand helpfully ticked off three o'clock to three o' one. “Fine,” he said with a haughty sniff, turning on his heel and leaving their small office laboratory, already planning to have Donna process the flobber worm delivery for their stock room once he got back. He would have anyway but now it would feel far more satisfying.

Draco hurried down the back hallway they had been relegated to when the new department had been established. He had to edge past two aurors standing in the middle of the hall who pointedly looked at him and then didn't move. He raised his chin and pretended they were less than flobber worm slime, which didn't stop him overhearing one of them raise his voice to say- “Of course, some people get things they haven't earned.” “Out of pity,” the other said even louder.

Draco kept his gaze fixed ahead of himself and didn't change his stride. It wasn't as if it was anything new, after all.

There were a few more auror's in the small tea room, two of which pointedly left when Draco stepped inside. Draco honestly didn't care because Harry was there, sitting at one of the small tables alone with two mugs of tea and a brilliant smile, just for him.

“You're late,” Harry said, nudging the chair out next to him with his boot.

“I was finishing up a potion,” Draco said as he sat, taking the mug Harry handed to him. Brewed strong enough to strip paint with two sugars, just how he liked it.

Potter's own mug was light and milky, brewed with tea he brought in himself because he was very particular about his favourite brand.

“I still can't believe you like the stuff they have here. I always imagine you liking fruity green teas,” Harry said.

Draco smirked faintly, “Well, we can't all conform to stereotypes, can we?”

“I'm not a stereotype,” Harry said mock-defensively, a smile playing on his lips.

“Not when it comes to tea,” Draco agreed, raising an eyebrow at Harry's mug.

Harry laughed which Draco never got tired of hearing.

“What potion were you brewing?” Potter asked.

Draco smiled a small pleased smile that Harry cared to ask. “Just some blood replenishing potions. Your lot depleted of our stock last week,” he tried to sound scolding, ignoring the little feeling of unease that Harry could have been one of the ones that might have needed it.

“You make twice as much as we could ever need,” Potter said.

Draco sipped his tea, “Better to be safe, with lives on the line.”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled at him, his eyes shining. He glanced away, turning his mug in his hands, “Your potions are loads better than the ones at Mugo's. Theirs are always a little thin and bitter.”

“They need fresher ingredients.” Draco hid his smile in his mug until he could control his expression. He cleared his throat, “So how's your case going?”

“You know I can't tell you any details-”

“Is it going well or not, Potter?” Draco asked, rolling his eyes.

Harry laughed, “Right, right. It's.... progressing. Not as well as I'd like but-” he shrugged, “-they never do.”

“Patience.” Draco council sagely, “You don't want to strain your fragile mind.”

Harry fought down a grin and kicked Draco lightly under the table, “Shut it, you prat.”

“I shall do no such thing,” Draco said with a sniff.

“Probably for the best,” Harry said with faux-solemnity, “if you suddenly started acting nice I'd think you were ill.”

“Git,” Draco said without any bite.

“Harry,” Weasley's voice proceeded him as he came into the room and to their table looking harried, “I know you're on break but Robard's wants to meet with us. Jacobs found a lead in his case, might be connected to ours.”

“Jacob's case? Bloody hell,” Harry muttered, taking a gulp of tea.

Draco plucked the empty mug from Harry's hand and got an appreciative smile for his trouble. He did his best to look annoyed and waved Harry off impatiently.

Weasley lingered behind, looking like he meant to say something to Draco.

Draco stood, picking up both mugs, he raised his eyebrow at Weasley.

Before Weasley could figure out how his mouth worked, a hand roughly shoved Draco from the back as a young auror went past, splattering tea all up over his robes.

Draco swore and pulled out his wand to spell the liquid off before it stained. When he looked back up Weasley was gone.

Part 1 (you are here!) - Part 2 - Part 3 -  Part 4 -  Part 5 -

thank you for reading I hope you like this little stop gap! 

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Taemin; Problematic Fave (Part 4/4); PG

He still has to ask Key what their favorite song is, too. He’s fairly certain that it’s “White T-Shirt,” but it might also be “Orbit,” because “Orbit” is exactly the kind of gay shit Key is into, even if it is a little slow.

ao3

1-2-3-4

Jonghyun,

Hey!! Taeminnie again. I’m on my couch writing this, all snuggly in blankies because Spring still hasn’t made up her mind and it’s raining pretty hard outside. I do love the rain, but I prefer to experience through a window rather than in the middle of it. I’m watching Key’s little pups while they’re at work so they’re up here with me. Key doesn’t like them on the couch but they’re really really warm and what Key doesn’t know won’t hurt them. I’ll send a pic for you to see!

Speaking of Key, they told me that they saw you coming out of a recording studio as they were going in the other day. Honestly, at this point, I think their feelings towards you are more complicated than mine ever were. They’re still mad at you in defense of me from nine months ago, but I think that’s mostly out of spite because I told them that they couldn’t stay mad forever. They also lowkey want to book you again for another shoot, really love your little line of accessories, and are extremely bitter that they like more than three songs on your She Is album. They won’t admit it, but ??????fuck i forgot??????? is their favorite song.

As for me, I think I’ve finally come to a conclusion for my favorite. I know, it’s been, like, three weeks, and I’ve cycled through all of them being my favorite (except “Moon,” and I’ve already explained what was wrong with that one), but I’m serious now. I really think that I like “Dress Up” the most. It feels weird to say that, seeing as how I always liked your softer songs the most, but I can’t deny that “Dress Up” is fun to jam to.

I wanted to tell you again that this comeback of yours has been so good and healing for me. The fun songs, the bright colors, the inherent and blatant queerness of everything, your pink hair…. All of it makes me feel bright and fuzzy on the inside. Before, your stuff would cheer me up just by being gentle and uplifting, but now it cheers me up by making me feel all excited and bouncy and validated. So, thanks for that!

Thank you for letting me love you, too. I know I say it a lot, but it’s just nice to have a fave to think of and love and feel all fuzzy about again. Maybe I’ll get a real romantic datefriend one day and be able to be super gay with them, or maybe I’ll friend marry Key and get all of my emotional fulfillment from that, but until then, it’s nice to draw comfort from you. Thanks for letting me and, really, all of your fans do that. I know it’s kind of part of the job description of being an celeb, but still. It means a lot to a lot of us that you put so much of yourself out there and act as support for us, even from afar.

This is getting kind of long, so I’ll stop here. I know this week is your last week of promotions, so good luck on all of your music shows and I hope you’re having a nice day!!

Love, Lee Taemin ❤

P.S.: If you ever see Key again and they try to give you two dollars, just take it and pretend like you know what it’s for.

Taemin hums to himself as he reads his letter over. That’s a pretty good first draft, he thinks, and he’s pretty sure that his opinion isn’t affected at all by how he’s hanging half upside-down off of the couch and squinting at it on his phone.

Key’s little pupps snooze gently, one in his lap and one nuzzled against his leg. Taemin scrunches his nose. Hmm. Maybe he won’t send Jonghyun a picture of his lower half, even if there are cute dogs in it. That would be kind of weird, he thinks. Maybe he can get Key to--oh, no, he’ll have to scoot them off of the couch before Key comes to pick them up so he doesn’t get in trouble. Dang.

He still has to ask Key what their favorite song is, too. He’s fairly certain that it’s “White T-Shirt,” but it might also be “Orbit,” because “Orbit” is exactly the kind of gay shit Key is into, even if it is a little slow.

Taemin’s left eye scrunches when he reads over the little paragraph about his favorite song. Every time he thinks about “Moon” he feels all gross inside and he should really stop thinking about it, but he just. Wants to passive aggressively remind Jonghyun that it was gross at least one more time in his letters. After this one he’ll start working on forgetting it exists. At least it helps him keep his love for Jonghyun grounded.

“Dress Up,” though. “Dress Up” is good.

The whole comeback is good, and as Temin scans his letter he feels himself warming up inside all over again. A smile cracks open his face, cheeks flushing as pink as Jonghyun’s lovely, lovely, lovely hair. It’s so nice and fun and bouncy and--

“Fuck,” Taemin hisses. He was turning halfway over to smile into his carpet and his legs slipped off of the couch. He crumples gracelessly, grunting softly as he struggles to get his hands under him and push himself up. “God, fuck,” he mutters. Pushing his bangs out of his face, he leans against his couch to just blink for a moment and let the blood rush out of his brain and into the rest of him.

Key’s little pups whine and snuffle at him, Garcons's wet little nose booping his temple. Taemin leans away, then lifts a hand to pet their soft little heads.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tells them. “Mwah.” He kissies Garcons's little head when he keeps nuzzling at him. The press of his lips seems to calm the pup and Taemin vaguely wonders if that has anything to do with the way Key pulls themself out of anxiety attacks with a million little kissies to who or whatever is nearby. Probably.

Instead of trying to clamber back onto the couch, he slowly slides himself the rest of the way off and rolls to lie on his tummy. Tugging a pillow down from the couch, he holds it under his chin as he finds his phone again. A pup hops down from the couch and wiggles to curl up on his butt; glancing over his shoulder, he finds Comme Des. He lazily reaches behind himself to give him a little pat before he looks back to his phone to finish scanning his letter.

Blah blah blah, blah blah dogs, Key blah blah, songs blah, the comeback makes Taemin’s soul feel alive, blah blah… aha. Taemin reads over the next paragraph with his top lip between his teeth. Hmm. Feels a little repetitive in places. He’ll work on that. The P.S. he has to work on too; he wants it to be in the actual letter and not a P.S. He’ll figure out how to add it in without making it seem too bulky or whatever. Besides that, though….

“I think this is good,” Taemin hums to himself. He lifts the phone up to Garcons on the couch so he can see. “What do you think?” he asks. The little pup sniffs his hand and then licks him. Taemin assumes that means “yes” and gives Garcons a little scritch behind his ears. Then he rolls to his back--apologizing again for disturbing Comme Des and letting him snuggle up under his arm instead--and taps his letter to edit it.

Honestly, he missed how fun this was; just sitting here and editing out his thoughts and feelings. Thinking them over and figuring out exactly what he wants to say is so… calming. Even his first letter back where he sent, like, three pages detailing his entire emotional response to everything was soothing. Since he started writing to Jonghyun again his anxiety has been better than it has in months and he’s been able to reason his worries away almost as well as he could before he even got all hecked up in the first place. He thinks he might start up a diary anyway, in addition to his almost-weekly letters to Jonghyun. It might get him back to where he started.

As he’s deleting a word in the third paragraph, his phone vibrates in his hand with a text from Key. He hums. Now would be a good time to ask about their favorite song, yeah, before he forgets again. He opens the texts of the day and scans them quickly: “good morning egghead,” “I’ll bring you a muffin when I drop the kids off,” “do you think thick stripes or thin stripes look better in plaid,” “one of these days I’m gonna say something important and you’re gonna regret letting my texts pile up,” and “wow okay I know I just said that as a joke but I can not Fucking believe this and u gotta reply rn or I’m gonna call you!!!”

“Hmm,” Taemin hums again. He scrunches his face in confusion. What. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Key use any punctuation in a text, let alone three whole exclamation points. He sits up, resting one elbow on the couch so he can focus better on his phone as he texts back, “Thick stripes and also what’s your favorite song of Jonghyun’s again and also What???”

Taemin isn’t sure if it’s the immediateness of Key’s reply or the contents of it that makes him drop his phone. Either way, he hisses and scrambles to pick it up and confirm that what he thinks he saw is really is what he thought he saw.

It is: Key sent him a picture of them with Jonghyun, like, right next to each other, taking a selfie, together, Key looking huffy and annoyed and Jonghyun smiling gently with one hand kind of blurry in a little wave.

Taemin can’t fucking believe it, either.

“Ohmhy fuc k ign gdo,” he texts back. He is so upset and jealous. What the fuck. This is so unfair. It’s not even that Key is with Jonghyun and he isn’t, or that Key doesn’t appreciate Jonghyun’s loveliness, or even that he’s so far up Jonghyun’s ass again that it burns him up on the inside to not be there; it’s that that morning Key literally offered to take him to work with them and he declined. It’s his own dang fault that he isn’t blushing and smiling and hiding behind Key’s arm with his heart making him all giddy right now.

“I went to a radio station to grab a friend to hang out with and he was here and he says hi,” Key texts him next. Taemin groans quietly and wilts back down to the floor, texting back a single frowny face. Then he throws his arm dramatically over his eyes and whines again. Heck. Hecking fuck. He does not believe. Lifting his arm just enough to see his text, he types “Tell him i’m in the middle of writing a letter to him.”

“I’m not playing back and forth between u two jfc,” is Key’s reply. Taemin huffs, then sighs. Yeah, that’s kind of what he figured they would say. “listen tho he’s trying to give me a free album bc I guess that’s a thing that singers do but I don’t want it so do u want me to tell him to just sign it to you instead,” Key sends next. Taemin gasps this time, suddenly all excited again. He sits up quickly, then grunts and lies back down, pressing his hand to his forehead under his bangs to fight the sudden wooziness. Whoops. Key’s pups nuzzle and whine at him; Taemin doesn’t know if it’s from worry or annoyance at his constant movement.

“Yes pls,” he texts back, and then scoops both dogs up in his arms to snuggle them under his chin. With two soft little fuzzballs against him and the prospect of a bright, shiny, new, signed album coming his way soon, Taemin feels his inside get all warm and fuzzy again very quickly. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life than the fact that he loves his fave and he loves being able to love him.

[mx-t4t0]

Oh we’re taking a trip down queer history lane? ok why the fuck not 😳

First let’s look at some damn vintage pins where trans folk are openly included

mm yse fancy, and pro-trans!

Now I know wikipedia isn’t the best source but I’m tired and quite frankly not up to sniff out every little source wikipedia gives because oH boy the stonewall riots are documented

But let’s see who was present during the stonewall riots

oh look, it’s the

LGBT??? impossible, the trans folk were there?! damn bro that’s crazy

Let’s go back even further! Same wikipedia page, talking about what happened before Stonewall

Riots in Los Angeles in 1959 in response to police harrasment (stonewall was in summer of 1969 in case you didn’t know)

Trans folk!

Bigger riot in 1966 in San Francisco at Compton’s Cafeteria?

Trans women!

wow, trans people are real!

Now let’s take a break and see the history of the trans flag because queer vexillology is good shit

Look at this beauty How old is it?

It turned 21 this year! And would you look at that, it always included nonbinary folk, weow

Now, since you’re so smart, I’ll give you a bit of reading. Here’s a timeline about trans history.

oh boy, that’s at least like 8 years longer than you’ve been alive.

Anyways, have fun reading big brain.

a logo of the detroit gay liberation front, 1970