#glee butch project

[unholy-fabray]

Butch-ifying every female character on Glee

Step 3: Faberry

@warblercore brought up the sad fact that there are zero (ZERO!!) butches on Glee, and I think that needs to be fixed…

...with the addition of Quinn and Rachel! Check out part 1 (Brittana) and Part 2 (Tina and Mercedes).

[marrowridden]

Bit of a vent here, I just needed to get this out since I've been grappling with it for a while.

I have wanted to call myself butch for ages now, essentially since the first time I heard the word, and the more I learn about lesbian history, the more butches I see and interact with, whether it be online or out and about with them being their beautiful selves, the more I connect to the title.

Now, I know there's no one way to be butch, that it won't look the same on everybody and it will feel different for everybody, but I struggle to look in the mirror and project that feeling outward onto myself.

I feel like this is who I am, some part of me deep down in my very soul screams at me that it is, and yet, I don't quite feel worthy enough to embrace it.

Am I worthy? Do I deserve to call myself a butch at all? I'm not sure.

Any advice is always welcomed if you have it and if it isn't too much trouble to give, same goes for general feedback/commentary. Thanks.

{ p.s. : to any butches who might be reading this, your existence alone puts a smile on my face and makes my heart sing with eternal glee }

[mrsluthordanvers]

This may seem like a really random question but has writing and reading femslash helped you come into your sexual and/or gender identities? I've been in the Supergirl fandom and other primarily f/f fandoms for quite some time and this is something that I've been wondering about recently.

Yes!!

This got really long, and really rambly, and probably tells more about my experience with fandom then you needed to know to answer this question. But here it is lol

I grew up in a relatively conservative and catholic family with limited access to media both bc of this and bc my family was low income. I remember as a little kid we only had a couple channels and when we did get cable when I was older, my parents would stop pay for it during summer months because they wanted us to go outside.

The only gay media I remember ever seeing growing up in my parents house was Imagine Me & You. I caught it once on TV and I have vivid memories of realizing what I was watching and sitting on the edge of the couch paranoid that my parents would come downstairs and catch me watching it. I remember setting up the remote so that when I hit the quick back button it would take me back to some cartoon channel. And glee. Which I was surprisingly actually allowed to watch. I was always waiting for it to get turned off but it never was.

Both my parents were very big on encouraging reading. When we asked for books, it was almost the only time I don’t remember being told no. I remember I spent tons of time in libraries as a kid and it was one of the only places I was allowed to go after school by myself when I was in junior high. And I loved to write, my mom was always asking her to tell me stories and I was always writing in journals.

Basically what I’m saying is that I really did Not have exposure to the gay community. And looking back it seems really natural that I started reading and writing femslash.

It took me a long time to get into though, and to seek out. Instead I was sneaking Nora Roberts books out of the library at grade 7 because they had sex in them. Sex, I thought, that was safe/healthy/whatever because these were the books my sister was reading. Plus my mom said they were too mature for me, and what’s a better motivator then being told no. I didn’t find famslash until very late into high school bc it never even occur to me that I could be reading cheesy romances that were f/f instead.

My first experience actually reading femslash was Rizzles fics on ff.net. I honestly have no idea how I found it bc at the time I couldn’t have told you what fandom was, or that tumblr existed. The only thing I remember knowing about fanfic was that if you said you read fanfic people assumed you were reading about weird sex about characters and would laugh at you. Honestly I might have only found fanfics bc glee was really big at the same time and I was probably hearing people talk about ships and fanfic even if I don’t remember it now. Either way I found it lol. And I read A Lot of rizzoli and isles fics.

And it helped. Towards the end of high school was when it really started to dawn on me that I might like girls and I didn’t have words for it, I didn’t know there was a community, and there certainly wasn’t people I was willing to ask.

Reading femslash was like opening a door. Suddenly I was being introduced to the same kind of cheesy romance writing I was already reading. I was being introduced to the idea of two women going on dates. Having healthy relationships. Having unhealthy relationships. Soft sex. Rough sex. Falling in love. Getting married. Having kids. And it really started to solidify that I liked women.

Up until that point the idea of being gay scared the fuck out of me bc what I knew was so limited, to me being gay = being alone. It meant I wasn’t allowed to have any of those things and I really resisted that.

Reading femslash was a big part of changing that perspective. It made me comfortable enough to tell a girl at 19 I had a crush on her. It helped me feel like it was okay to tell people I wasn’t straight when I went to university. It prompted me to search out more gay media when I went to university. I started to watch glee again. I watched DEBS, and Imagine Me and You, and Saving Face, and Gray Matters, and Bloomington, and Kissing Jessica Stein, and Loving Annabelle. Basically I went through the LGBT section of Netflix in a year. 

A friend introduced me to tumblr and told me there was a big gay community. I followed some cool people and aesthetic blogs but honestly I still wasn’t quite finding it.

Then I watched The 100 while it was in season 2 in my last year of university. Completely unaware of Clarke and Lexa. I became obsessed lol. They kissed on screen and it was like a switch went off. I don’t know why it was that show instead of anything else I had been watching that spurred me on. But it did. I started looking up accounts on tumblr and following people and reading so so so much fanfic. I had started to find that vast community on tumblr my friend mentioned and started sending people asks and saw people actually answering asks, and posting their art and their writing. It encouraged me to try writing again, and ask a couple people if they would read stuff I posted.

And then supergirl came out and I was soooo excited for it that I started to try mimicking accounts I saw in the clexa fandom. I figured out how to make gifsets, and I liveblogged, and my friend told me to make a side fandom blog or she’d unfollow me lmao. Which I also didn’t know people did. I started this blog just before season 2 happened and it made for the perfect storm. I already had a small following, I was making content (even if it wasn’t great), and Lena got introduced. And suddenly I REALLY discovered how vast the gay community is bc it was suddenly knocking at my door. It was also a big BIG learning curve.

I was reading people’s fanfics and looking at their fanart. I was seeing depictions of different sexualities. And how two characters can be interpreted in such vastly different ways. I was being shown perspectives I hadn’t seen before, some that made me stop and go. Oh. It helped me identify my first label, and then also taught me labels can change, and mine did. I wasn’t just reading fics about two women in a relationship, I was opening fics and seeing me. I saw a piece of fanart of Butch Kara and thought, she looks like me. And then I started to see people writing about butch Kara and commenting about butch Kara and it wasn’t just, she looks like me. It became she looks like me, and that is desirable. And that gave me confidence. I stopped shaving, my wardrobe has started to change, I started buying things I wanted to wear not that I thought I should wear. I learned I wanted people to see me and think I was handsome or attractive before they thought I pretty or cute lol

Writing femslash has a different kind of self reflection. I like to think I have started to notice when I project things on to characters, and think about why those things are important to me. Or why I get defensive over certain headcanons. All things that have made me step back and look at my own sexuality and gender identity. Which honestly I’m still figuring out and is still changing, but I’ve learned that’s okay too (fanfic has also normalized that for me lol)

Art is meant to make you feel things, think about things. I don’t think fanfic or fanart is any different. Sometimes it is just meant to make you feel you horny and sometimes it makes you reflect on whether or not you might be butch. Personally I think it’s very cool that it’s so powerful

[heysoup]

Fluffy February Day 1 - Fishing

Howdy folks! I’m taking part in the Fallout Fluffy February prompt list this month, hosted by @fluffyfebruary

Every day of this month I’ll be posting my finished prompts under the community tag #fluffyfebruary and on my own blog as #fluffyfeb. I’ll also be cross posting to Ao3, which I’ll link to in each post - so feel free to follow me over there, too!

Chapter 1: A Fisher of Men

Pairing: Butch/Male Lone Wanderer

Summary: Jamie takes Butch out on the Potomac for a fishing trip in the same spot his father had taken him a year prior. What seems to be an uneventful few hours turns into anything but when they find a monster on the other end of their line. Takes place after the events of Broken Steel.

Ao3 Link

“This is fucking boring.”

Jamie shoots Butch an irritated look from where he’s sitting across from the other man in the canoe, his brows drawn together as he tries his damnedest to untangle his fishing line from the third piece of driftwood he’s ‘caught’ that day.

“No shit,” he grumbles, spitting out some mud as he tries to break the line off the wood with his teeth. He lets out a frustrated huff, gripping his rod in both hands as he raises it up and fights the urge to just chuck the whole damn thing into the Potomac. He hears Butch snicker, and he whips his head up.

“You’re like a goddamn feral,” Butch teases with a laugh, reaching over and snatching the rod from Jamie’s grip. He digs in the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his switchblade, flicking it open and carefully beginning to cut the line away from where it’s tangled in the driftwood to try and save as much of it as he can.

He kicks his boots playfully against Jamie’s sneakers, noticing how the canvas high-tops are completely soaked through from the puddle of water they’d managed to slosh into the canoe earlier as they tried ungracefully to board it from the shore. He just shakes his head, a smile on his face, knowing that if he brings up the topic of appropriate footwear to the younger man it’ll just earn him a bruised shoulder.

“This was supposed to be like… meditative or some shit,” Jamie says with a sigh. He rubs his hands over his freckled face and ruffles some of the dust out of his sun-warmed hair. Butch just gives him an incredulous look.

“Where the hell did you get that idea from?” He finishes cutting the driftwood free and tosses it behind him into their small pile of ‘catches’ – which is really just a collection of junk at this point – before reattaching the hook and bobber and handing the rod back to the other man. He leans over and grabs his own fishing pole, squinting against the reflective ripples in the water to check on his bobber. Still absolutely no bites.

Jamie shrugs, suddenly looking a little bashful. “I dunno,” he admits. He reaches back into the salvaged can of cram they were using as bait, tears a chunk out, and works on preparing his hook again. Not like it matters much, he tells himself. He can continue to go through the motions perfectly and not catch a single thing. A little bit like everything else in his life, he thinks bitterly. His fucking bad luck.

After a moment of silence, Jamie continues. “Apparently my family came from a long line of fishermen on my dad’s side. He passed down some stories about it. Told me they were tradition or something.” Jamie shrugs. “Anyway, he taught me that you were s’posed to reflect on yourself out here. Get some peace and quiet.” Jamie finally says. He sucks the excess cram off his fingers, his tongue burning at the sudden saltiness, and casts his line out again, his bobber floating a few feet from Butch’s. Butch looks up at him, snapped out of his own thoughts.

“Huh… like, Wasteland fisherman?” Butch asks, deliberately choosing not to tell him how he thinks the whole ‘peace and quiet’ schtick is a load of brahmin shit and instead focusing on the first part of what he said. He’s always intrigued whenever Jamie tells him about his family, at least after they’d learned that he wasn’t born in the vault. The idea of generations of Arroyo’s managing to survive out here long enough to pop out the rascally kid he sits across from kind of amazes him. He sets his fishing pole back down against the side of the canoe, sure that it would be fine – he hasn’t gotten a single nibble in the past three hours.

“Nah. I’m sure some of them might’ve been, but we don’t really know much about closer generations of my family. We only really knew about some of my prewar family – something about some records my dad’s dad had kept on his terminals after searching our surname through databases in some place that used to process immigrations, or some shit. The occupation listed there was fisherman, apparently.” Jamie finishes and Butch hums thoughtfully, trying to imagine what Jamie’s granddad might have looked like.

Jamie winces when he thinks of his dad and has to shake the thoughts from his head. As if his face reflecting back at him from the clear surface of the clean water isn’t enough of a reminder of what he’s lost of his family and himself to of Project Purity – he looks like his own father’s ghost and even carries his name.

Butch’s fishing pole snapping against the side of the boat brings him back out of his thoughts, and he flinches back away from the canoe’s edge, the quick motion causing him to almost tumble out the other side as the boat sways dangerously.

“I got one!” Butch practically shouts and lunges for the pole, straddling the seat of the canoe and bracing his legs against the floor as he begins an awkward tug-of-war match with whatever is on the other end of his line. Jamie perks up with a huge grin on his face, all thoughts of his troubles momentarily forgotten, and hovers over Butch nervously.

“Make sure you don’t reel in when he’s pulling on the line! And try to give it some slack!” Jamie parrots what his father had taught him on their one and only fishing trip in the Wastes months back and digs around in their mess of a canoe for the rickety net they brought with them. Butch just gives an annoyed grunt, his face crinkled in concentration as he pulls on the line.

“This bastard is fuckin’ heavy!” He complains, giving the rod a yank that rocks their canoe again. Whatever they have hooked is pulling them ever so slightly to the opposite shore and splashing like crazy beneath the water.

“Scoot,” Jamie orders. He tosses the net aside – it’s obvious that whatever’s on the other side of the line won’t fit in it now - and moves on unsteady legs to sit behind Butch, reaching his arms around the other man’s waist and grabbing the fishing pole to help him pull. What the hell are they dealing with here?

By the time they begin to make some progress in reeling the fish in, they’re about halfway to the shore and completely out of breath. Butch laughs hysterically between pulls, his eyes squeezed shut in glee, and Jamie can’t help but laugh in return. His palms are sweaty, his white-knuckle grip on the fishing pole beginning to slip.

“Is it trying to pull us out of the water?!” Butch says suddenly, elbowing Jamie to look at the swiftly approaching shore. They’re hauling ass at this point, almost as if… whatever they hooked had suddenly caught some footing in the shallower water. Jamie’s eyes widen and he immediately lets go of the pole to root around in their bags. As he does, Butch careens forward from the sudden lack of support and just barely catches himself with his elbows against the edge of the canoe. He curses, “CHRIST, Nosebleed! Some warning next time!”

Jamie has only just gotten his hands on Butch’s shotgun when they finally catch a glimpse of their ‘fish’ as it breaks the surface of the water. At this point, they’ve reeled it in pretty close and the wake left behind the huge creature emerging from the stagnant part of the river capsizes their canoe just as they crash into the sandy shore.

With a chorus of yells both men topple over into the shallows. Jamie squeezes his eyes shut and lands on his back with a thud, his arms stretched up over his head holding the shotgun out of the river. The water feels like a cold slap to his face, and he comes back up gasping for air. He looks over to where Butch has landed hard on his ass, noting that the fishing pole is being tugged out of his hands and quickly away from him. He looks and sees the fruits of their labor – an albino Mirelurk with the fishing line wrapped around one claw.

“MIRELURK!” Butch yells, scrambling to his feet and running over to Jamie. He pulls the other man up and grabs the shotgun from him just as the Mirelurk turns toward them and begins clambering over the old canoe that groans and splinters beneath its weight.

“Shoot it! Shoot it!” Jamie practically shrieks and pushes against Butch’s arm, urging him to hurry when the Mirelurk picks up speed and barrels toward them. Butch nods and fights the urge to run, taking a breath and bracing for the recoil as he lines up his shot. Jamie flinches when he hears the crack! of the rounds exploding from the gun and shattering the vulnerable part of the Mirelurk’s fragile front shell. His ears ring from the close proximity of the shot and he grimaces, about to cover them until he realizes the monster is still running full speed toward them. Shit!

He grabs Butch and tackles him to the ground, shoving them out of the way as the huge, mutated crab stumbles past them at an alarming speed and crashes hard into the shore. It lies there face-first in a mound in the sand and they watch it with wild eyes from their position on the ground, ready to book it at any hint of movement, but it’s motionless and quiet – dead.

Jamie rolls off of Butch and flops down next to him, both of them looking up at the endless expanse of bright blue sky as they struggle to catch their breaths.

“Still think fishing is boring?” Jamie snaps and Butch begins to laugh again, the sound starting as a snort and bubbling slowly from his chest before he’s full-on wheezing with laughter. Jamie sits up and looks down at him like he’s insane.

“What about this was funny?!” He asks, shaking Butch’s shoulder. He can’t help but return the grin, though. Seeing Butch happy always manages to make him smile. Butch wipes his hand down his face as he sits up, slinging the shotgun over his shoulder and hopping to his feet. He reaches down to pull Jamie up with him, a huge shit-eating grin on his face.

Jamie’s ears suddenly feel hot as he watches Butch, noticing the endearing gap between his two front teeth and the splash of sun freckles over his now sand-dusted face. He swallows, his heart racing. “What?” He repeats again, his throat dry.

“I caught a motherfucking fish.” Butch beams even more and looks incredibly proud of himself as they turn and walk over to his ‘catch.’ He kicks it with the toe of his boot a few times just to ease his own worries of it springing back to life.

“It’s not a fish! It’s a crab, they’re different.” Jamie argues and crouches down, grabbing the edge of the Mirelurk’s shell with Butch as they flip it over with a heave. Jamie doesn’t mention that technically he did catch it with a fishing pole, and that technically they are going to have it for dinner. He doesn’t want to give Butch the satisfaction, especially considering the only thing he got out of this trip is his collection of stones and driftwood that was currently crushed under their broken canoe.

“It counts.” Butch says, the grin still plastered on his face. He pulls a combat knife out of a holster on his belt and settles down on his knees in the sand, tapping the sharp edge of it against the shell. “Look at this bad boy. You ever see a white one before?”

“It’s an albino, I guess.” Jamie says, leaning close to inspect it. He lifts the claw that’s tangled in their fishing line. “What a mess, we aren’t salvaging this.” He drops it back into the sand with a thud.

“The fuck’s an albino?” Butch asks as he cuts into their prize, grimacing and holding back a gag as he begins to butcher it. Mirelurk is good meat, but it reeks when it’s fresh.

“You know, like that one story Brotch made us read in like 8th grade, Moby Dick? It was about that sea captain and the giant albino whale.” Jamie snickers and walks the few paces back to their canoe. He flips it right-side-up with some effort and drags their valuables out of the muddy water, clicking his tongue in disappointment when he notices their bags are completely soaked through. “You’re lucky he didn’t eat your leg.” He teases.

Butch looks back at him and pouts, blowing a messy curl of his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, I never read anything ol’ Brotch assigned. Waste of time. Like it would’ve taught me anything useful out here.” He grumbles.

Jamie laughs and drops their stuff next to a rock outcropping near their canoe. It looks like it would provide some decent shelter against the wind and by the looks of their soaking clothes and supplies, they’ll have to stay the night unless they want to catch hypothermia. “Maybe it could’ve taught ya how to catch a real fish.”

“It still counts as a catch!” Butch whines.

“It’s not a fish.” Jamie shoots back in a sing-song voice, biting his tongue to hold back the huge grin that threatens to break through. Butch jumps up from what he’s doing and turns to him, his face red, but mirroring the same smile that Jamie is trying so hard to hold back.

“It. Counts.” Butch grits between clenched teeth puts his combat knife away, buttoning the sheathe into place against his hip. They stare at each other for a moment, their eyes locked in a staring match. Jamie’s grin finally breaks free.

“Does no-“he cuts himself off with a yelp as Butch lunges for him playfully. He laughs so hard he thinks his chest might burst as he takes off in a run down the beach, Butch hot on his heels as he begins to chase him.

He knows Butch’s legs are much longer than his, but he can hold his own – at least for a little while. And even though the inevitable ending is Butch catching him in a tackle, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it. It’s something they’ve done since they were boys stumbling around in the grey fluorescence of the vault, constantly finding their way back to each other like it was fate, and it feels like home.

[lamphous]

top 5 internet interactions involving you personally

thank you for your service

my top 5 internet interactions involving me personally:

when I got bad faith dogpiled by scary clown movie twitter bc I said social media aus and prose breed different writing skillsets and a 17 year old called a mutual defending me a bootlicker

last summer when I tweeted vaguely about retroactively finding out one of my fics got super popular bc some verified account tweeted the link and five minutes later someone from my queer lit class dm'ed me and said "did it happen to be [the exact fic]"

the three anons in my inbox at this very moment who are mad at me for saying the current trend of destiel bloggers getting hate for having supernatural urls but making all the current popular posts/memetic phrases is literally the same thing as has been happening on this site with tjlc people for 4 years

that time someone tried to start butch femme discourse with me in the comments of my adventure zone fic

the harvard crimson blog post about an article I wrote about the good omens tv show not being queer rep that summarized it to mean the exact opposite (this one is mostly funny to me because my first thought upon reading it was “I’ve been misrepresented in the crimson... oh my god I’m the winklevii”)

honorable mentions to: the fact that the glee project (now on oxygen) official twitter account is still one of my first followers and the semi-annual emails I get from ff.net commenters asking if my 39 clues fanfic from 2009 will be updating soon

you can send me other top 5s if you would like

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The Intern (CliffxReader Pt. 2)

Pt. 1 :)

Requested by @perawuat​

@tealaquinn​

Let me know if you wanna be added to either the basterds or OUATIH taglist :)

You grinned widely as you reached for your diploma. You looked out into the crowd, your radiant smile reminiscent of a sunflower as you looked to the cameras and did a peace sign with your left hand as you raised your diploma with your right.

You finally graduated.

You had a big job in a hotshot Hollywood production to show for all your hard work.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid...

You looked out at the crowd, spotting dozens of familiar faces.

You found your family among the sea of pride.

And by them, two empty seats.

Rick and Cliff couldn't make it. They were in Italy...

You sighed softly. It as a bittersweet moment. They were doing the best they could, you couldn’t be mad at them.

The next few days your family kept you fairly busy. They’d flown in from out of state. You didn’t mind the company. Especially since the summer felt a little empty without Rick and Cliff to deal with.

But as the summer wound down, so did your work.

You moved out of your old apartment, leaving Ziggy, Rowan, and Odie...

You moved into a high-rise apartment in west Hollywood.

It was your first time ever living completely alone. You had a place all to yourself, no brothers barging in or bathroom hogging sisters. No roomates.

And still...

....no Cliff and Rick...

Nothing....

You sighed, and muttered a despondent, “Groovy...” As you looked up at your new building.

You took a breath, and took the elevator to the fifteenth floor, and walked down the long hall to your apartment.

You stopped, seeing a bouquet of red roses at the doorstep. You wondered if it was from the apartments landlady... She seemed like an old fashioned person.

You picked up a card that came with it, expecting it to be complimentary.

But...you knew that writing.

You smiled a little, and sighed a little more cheerfully, "oh Cliff..."

You sighed, flopping onto the second hand couch from a garage sale that you’d hastily strewn in the middle of the empty living room.

Your living room.

You read the card.

Cliff apologized for missing your graduation and not being there to help with the boxes. He also added a million little things to make you blush.

You held the letter against your chest as you presided over the rows of brown boxes scattered around the room.

You smiled a little as you looked through the first box. The first thing you picked out was a framed picture of you and Cliff.

You smiled, knowing you'd finally made a life of your own, and that he was part of it.

And you knew you really had it together a few months later, when you were invited to a party. A big Hollywood party.

The movie you'd worked on had been nominated for a few Academy Awards, including for best cinematography...which you'd had a big hand in.

You met a few big names at the party, and a few familiar faces. The night was young, and you danced there with the stars and the writers that gave Hollywood it's lights. After a while you stepped aside to grab a drink. You looked at the scene, your new friends, and future.

Rick had been rigth all along... You were going to make it big.

As you took a sip of your drink, you overheard something behind a nearby table.

There were a few older and frankly snobby producers talking, and avoiding the younger crowd. They'd been talking about some projects they had been looking into.

The name Rick Dalton came up, and you raised your eyebrow in curiosity.

"Rick Dalton is an old, washed up chain smoking alcoholic has-been who's still waiting to happen!" The group of producers broke out laughing as he went on, "Won't be long till he drinks himself into a grave!"

Your blood boiled...

You'd been trying to get Rick to get help. You'd been making progress, until he had to go to Italy.

The producer went on, "Or worse. Lets himself go, gets a beer belly, and lets those pothead hippies melt his brain! And that pal of his, Cliff Boot."

One of the other producers corrected him. "Booth."

He nodded, "Booth. Killed his woman, didn't he? What's he still doing on sets? Bad luck. Don't want Dalton or that scumbag anywhere near me."

Another man stood between you and the circle of snobs. He smiled, "Say, aren't you that talented young lady what worked on that western?"

You nodded, "Yes, sir."

He smiled, "Say, O'Mara, this is the young lady that worked on Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid!"

The producer that had been ripping on Rick and Cliff turned around, with a wide, yellow, broken grin, reached his hand out to shake yours, but you stepped away in disgust, maybe hurting your relatively young and vulnerable career. 

But to you  it was worth every second seeing those snob's blood boiling.

"Don't get too cocky, O'Mara. You wrote Rick Dalton's first check, and then ripped him off when he got too big for you. Of course he's having a rough time, you all turned your backs on someone that made every single one of you a pretty goddamn penny, while he and Cliff are scratching and barely surviving. You should all be ashamed of yourselves, listening to that fucking rumor like a bunch of teenagers listening to Paul Anka. The man's a war hero, for crying out loud, and you're a fucking draft dodger. So no. Don't ask me to shake the hand of a man who turned his back on people he owes everything to."

Before things escalated, the man that had attemtped to introduce you to the producers stepped in, spoke fast, made them laugh, and ordererd drinks all around.

As the producers picked up gossip about other 'has beens,' the mystery man took you aside, "I like your work, and I like your spunk, you're a good kid."

You smiled a little, and he went on, "How about I let you in on a little secret, kid? All those old boys back there? Tearing apart actors because they’re jealous. And when they’re not with each other, they tear each other apart, because they all want this." He raised up a briefcase.

"What's that?" You laughed a little, seeing the quirky, odd character gripping the case as if it were worth the world..

He smiled, "Well, kid, this here's the next big thing in Hollywood what's gon' get somebody an Oscar, or an Academy Award round this time next year."

"So you're a writer?"

He nodded with glee, "Writer, director, as of now sole producer. But I still need my crew, and my stars. And kid, I seen the wonders you've done down at NBC and for that picture. So, once I get this show on the road, are you willing to get in on it?"

You could not have felt happier, "Absolutely!"

He smiled, "Well then, I need some stars, don't I? How about I talk to your friends about this, huh?"

"M-my friends?"

He nodded, "Mr. Dalton, and his stuntman, I hear they're a damn good team!"

You nodded, proud that some people still knew them as what they were, "That's right, sir."

He smiled, "I pictured Rick in this role. It's not exactly his regular western character, but, it's new, its fresh! It'll give him a new face, a new chance! I see him as...." He grinned, looking into the distance as he waved his hands, as if the name was appearing in front of you on a screen, "Hudson Murdock! International spy!" He sighed in satisfaction, "We’ll knock Bond out  of the water! And probably knock that guy, Cliff into the water!"

You both chuckled, and he asked, "Think they'll be interested?"

"I think so, sir."

He smiled, "Please, kid, call me Rudy!" He handed you a business card, and then a pen and a paper so you could write your number, Rick, and Cliff's down for him.

He took the paper after you were done, and hid it away safely with the script he guarded with his life, "Be in touch soon, will ya kid? They'll be home from Italy, soon I'll bet."

You nodded, "Yes, sir."

He titled his head, "Come on, kid."

You sighed and smiled a little, "Rudy."

He smiled, "Alright, that's better, kid." He gestured to the growing crowd of young party goers, "Go on, have fun before the real work starts!"

Despite the rocky moments with producers, and the inevitable burning of a bridge or two, you couldn't get over the fact that you'd just gotten Rick and Cliff a new big shot in Hollywood...

Still, the adrenaline and fun started to wash down the more the night went on. By the time you were home that night, you were a little more than just uneasy.

Cliff was supposed to call you and let you know he'd made it home safe with Rick.

You were sure they wre going to get blind drunk together, 'one last time,' thinking it was the end of the line...

Of course, they didnt' know about your development...and you'd let them have their fun for the night.

You could wait a million years for Cliff.

Or...you thought...

It just wasn't like him

Even in Italy, he called you every single night. Now that he was home, there was no excuse.

You spent the next half hours or so debating and reasoning with yourself....

Maybe they knocked out because of jet lag? Maybe they were drunk because they drank on the plane? Maybe the phones weren't working? Maybe he went straight to get Brandy? Maybe he wasn on his way to yours?

The possibilities were endless....

Still, there was that constant, nagging, feeling wringing your heart...

Ringing...

The phone was rining.

On the third ring, you picked up.

It was Rick.

You glanced up at the clock.

12:55 AM...

Your eyes went wide as Rick quickly and calmly tried to explain every thing that happened in the last half hour without giving you a panic attack.

12:56 AM...

"HE WHAT?!"

Rick replied, "H-he's o-k, don't w-worry! He-"

"He got stabbed! And-"

"He-He'll be ok, Y/n, everything's fine!"

"And you? Are you ok?!"

He chuckled a little out of tension, but mostly because he just missed hearing from a friend like you, "I'm uh...I'm actually at the neighbor's right now. Everything's ok, Y/n, don’t worry."

"The Polanski's?" You felt a little ease in your shoulders, knowing Rick finally got what he'd been wishing for for months.

"Yeah..." You could practically hear the smile, "But I'll meet you and Cliff bright and early tomorrow. We're ok, honey, don't worry. Get some sleep, he's ok."

"Ok..."

Rick sighed, knowing you better than you gave him credit for, "Oh, and Y/n?"

"Yeah, Rick?" You held the phone between your shoulder and your cheek as you reached between the couch cushions for your car keys.

Rick chuckled, "Drive safe."

You smiled a little and shook your head once.

You practically raced to the hospital, giving Cliff and every other stunt  double in Hollywood a run for their moeny.

Your heart skipped a beat, stopped, and broke al at once when you saw Cliff again... After six months...t felt like a lifetime,

And it felt like even longer seeing him like that.

You knew he was going to be alright. Rick told you so. The doctors told you. The nurses told you...

But you didn't believe it until you saw him for yourself.

"Cliff..."

He looked up at you, clearly tired. Of course, the acid, the fight, the stabbing, and the morphine were behind that. Still, he shifted trying to get up to get to you.

"No, no, stay down, it's ok..." You sat by him, rested your hands in his and smiled softly.

To him you were nothing less than an angel...

Especially with the drugs (legal and illegal) and the bright white hospital lights behind you. "Y/n....you...you came? Told Rick to tell ya to get some sleep I-"

"That's crazy talk."

He took your hand and pulled it up slowly to his lips, and kissed your hand softly. He looked up with soft eyes, "I'm sorry, baby...I should've gone home, should've gone to see ya..."

You shook your head, "If you had, there's no telling what would've happened...Best not to think of that, not now."

"I'm sorry I missed it."

You shook your head, and rested your hadn against hisncheek, "Best is yet to come, Cliff." You smiled cheekily.... you'd tell him about the party the next day.

Until then... You gave him  a kiss, and said, "Get some rest, Cliff."

"Only if you do, baby..."

You nodded, "I will, I will."

He chuckled a little, through the meds and drugs, and mumbled and hummed "Dream a little dream of me..." as he fell asleep, holding onto you desparately.

Somewhere deep in his mind, he was scared you were a hallucination...He wanted to hold you enar and dear. He wished Italy and that night never happened. He wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

When you woke  up, it was nearly noon, and the sunlight was streaming through the blinds. You'd fallen asleep on the chair by Cliff's bed, with your head against his chest. His arm was around you still. And you could hear the warm hum of his voice through his chest as you woke up slowly.

You could hear Rick too.

"Goddamn, Y/n and Francesca are gonna get along, they sleep like logs."

You smiled a little as you stood up to hug Rick.

He smiled at you, and shook his head, "You wanna tell me how the hell you managed to save me and Cliff's careers in one night?"

You shrugged, and playfully "Hey, when you got it, you got it."

Cliff guffawed, but then immediately held his wound, "Shit, Y/n, you oughta be the one carryin' Rick's load then!"

You rolled you reyes with a cheaky smile and sighed, "Anyone would've done the same."

Rick sighed, "Oh, honey, you don't know Hollywood just yet."

Cliff said, "What we're tryna say baby is thank you."

"Ah, it's nothing." "You got us some work!" Cliff looked at Rick, and they were both relieved, knowing it wasn't quite the end of the line. "We knew you'd make it far..." Rick saw the way Cliff smiled and looked at you. It was all clearer now that Cliff wasn't wearing sunglasses. Rick smirked a little, as he chuckled, "I'll go ahead an' leave you two alone for a while." You covered your face as your rubbed your eyes, "Oh, come on Rick!" Cliff chuckled, "I wIsH!" You looked to Cliff, "Cliff!" He laughed a little as he reached out for you. You heard Rick closing the door as he left. You sat by Cliff again, and he kissed you. "Told you everything would be ok, kid." "Yeah?" "Yeah..." He nodded. "Rick was right. You made it. You're not just an intern anymore...and me and Rick are gonna be ok, and you n me are more than ok." You smirked a little, looking down a tthe ground for a moment, then back at Cliff, "Yeah, we are..." He rested his hands on the sides of your face, his thumbs pressed against your cheek. It wasn't something he did often, but you weren't complaining. Because in that moment, everything mattered. The past six months had been hell, and the past night was a nightmarish trip. His blue eyes were wide open then. Everything realy was ok... And you could see that in his eyes: The hope and love the 'washed up' stuntman hadn't felt in a decade or two. And he owed it all to you, the intern.

[flying-elliska]

Movie review : the Favourite (2018)

This is very much a movie I can say that is objectively brilliant ; without being a movie I loved. The first half, in which the cousins vie for Queen Anne's affections and the associated power was just incredibly unhingedly funny in a dark way. But the second half, in which everything falls apart, dragged and the ending was incredibly depressing. It made sense ! But personally, I like to root for the characters I follow, and when it becomes too much about terrible people being terrible to each other, it becomes unpleasant to watch. It's a matter of personal taste, I guess - I don't enjoy stories that are too pessimistic about human nature.

At the same time I am very happy that this is a movie that exists, for what it does with its female characters.It's funny how it portrays three women who are arguably all horrible, all some sort of queer too, and somehow it doesn't come off as misogynistic or homophobic so much as simply deeply misanthropic. It made me think about what, exactly, makes this portrayal so interesting in terms of what good female characters are. I think a lot of stories are still stuck in this concept that to be feminist/empowering/etc their female characters have to be these parangons of likeability, competence and maturity because anything else would imply bad things about female nature. This is immensely problematic because : 1) it places undue burden on the female character to always be there for others - often men, do all the emotional work, etc...without being central to the plot because 2) it's boring and it makes for characters that, being perfect, don't need to evolve, have no real arc and therefore are sidelined ; and 3) is a stereotype and treats women as unreal projections that are not allowed to be human.

So this movie is really really not that. Right off these women are all ferocious in the expression of their flaws. Queen Anne is incredibly immature and spoiled, Sarah is domineering and downright abusive, Abigail is manipulative and will do absolutely anything in the pursuit of their goals. They all have understandable reasons for being like that, too : Anne is grieving so many dead babies and is in constant pain, Sarah is incredibly passionate about what she loves and Abigail wants to be safe. They are charismatic. They're allowed a depth and magnificence that is most often reserved for male antiheroes. I think the greatest part is how little fucks they give about anything. They are not demure or polite or hesitant or anything we have been trained to expect from women in period movies. And there is something about watching women behave badly with glee and without any guilt that is just so cathartic. It reminded me of Killing Eve in that sense, with a similar baroque, absurdist, dry sort of humor.

Of course the "women be scheming" trope is nothing new. But the way it is depicted here is ; it's not directed towards men. The power shown lies very much in the hands of the women - be it Anne's regal authority, Sarah's willpower or Abigail's charm - even though it is still a patriarchy and the men are buzzing at the edges of the plot to try and make themselves relevant. I studied political science and in the field there is this persistent fascination with the temper, charisma, "lust for power" of Great Men, whose glaring human flaws are set aside because they acted decisively in a crisis and met history or whatever the fuck ; something that is talked about in terms of dominance with sexual undertones and presented as this natural irrepressible force. It is then opposed to the feminine force, presented as passive, fertile but weak, something to be controlled and shaped like fate or history or chance or the land or the unwashed masses. So there is something incredibly significant in seeing powerful women represented like this : opportunistic, lusty, ferocious, decisive, flawed, power-mad, flamboyant. It breaks the concept that there is anything natural about each gender's approach to power. This is accentuated by the fact that the men in the movie tend to be presented in effeminate ways, wearing wigs and makeup whereas the three main characters are the one always in action, shooting guns, falling in the mud, running around, etc. (Special mention to Sarah's period-butch get up...incredible) Through their interactions there is this fascinating feeling that the power doesn't rest in one specific thing, it's morphing and situational. The cousins are not just struggling to win the queen's affection, she is also struggling constantly - with her grief, pain, loneliness. I love it when character dynamics are so shifting.

But...in the end, I have not seen enough happy and healthy portrayals of wlw relationships and intimacy to enjoy seeing women treating each other so badly. The overarching theme is that power and inequality of power just completely fucks you up, and your ability to have normal relationships which is...on point. But in terms of character arcs it just ends on a "oh this is just terrible across the board" feeling which is not my fave to end a story on. The women all let their flaws get them into this spiral of misery. Anne's choice is between someone honest who treats her like shit or someone who is sweet but also a manipulative liar ; Sarah is exiled from the things she loved most, her queen and country ; Abigail is reduced to servitude once again. The end. Resounding feeling is like woooow I'm happy that's not me. There is something about toxic relationships that kind of bores me to be honest, because there is something very previsible about it and the whole ha people are shitty thing. But I guess that's a matter of personal taste. In the end I think it's a great thing that this movie exists. I just hope we get more stories with morally ambiguous women we can root for until the end.

[42wallaby-way-sydney]

@gangstertogangster​ so since we’re on a glee kick for the OCs, I figure now is about as good a time as any just to have more things that totally get said during domestic au lines.

Yelena: Veruchka that isn't how babies happen. Nika: Uh huh! You and mama are both girls and you have me! Yelena, eyes widening, sweats: ... Nika: Hey how did that happen anyway? Where do babies come from? Yelena, driving faster: Ask your mother. Nika: But you are my mother? Yelena: Ask your other mother! ~oOo~ Michael: Look, alcohol is an answer to any problem. It’s not always the best answer but it is an answer. So pass me my wine or not even God himself will be able to save you, Raphael! ~oOo~ Vasya: Nah, my Aunt Shauna loves Olive Garden. They have better bread. Michael: What’s wrong with my restaurant?! It’s authentic Italian! The real deal! Vasya: It isn’t Olive Garden’s. Duh. ~oOo~ Nika: Hey guys, do you mind if I ritualistically slaughter this chicken? Peyton, jaw dropped: Uh... yeah a bit. This is the stage where we’re, you know, about to have a musical practice. Not... make chicken nuggets. ~oOo~ Vasya: That bitch is crazy! He had me kidnapped! Adrian, looks away: ...  Alexei: Ohmygod... ~oOo~ Jack: Papa, where do babies come from? Vladimir: ... Russia and Spain. Matt: That is not- Vladimir: My babies came from Russia and Spain, Matvey! Matt: Well if you want to get technical! Jack was born in Hell’s Kitchen! You idiot! ~oOo~ Mariah: Oh, Misty. Lucille is just... such a delightful child... Misty: Thank you, Mariah. I just... adore Honor... Danny & Shades, both sighing: ... ~oOo~ Matt: What's wrong?! Why are you bleeding?! Vasya, crying: I think I have internal bleeding! Matt: Oh honey. Internal means it's on the inside. Vladimir, smacking the back of Matt's head: Asshole. ~oOo~ Lucille: Breathe in. Now breathe out. Breathe in. ... Jack. Dani. Wake up. Vasya: They don't like meditating very much. Jack, snoring: ... Danielle, snoring: ... ~oOo~ Karen: You taught her how to treat a hemorrhage but not a period?! Matt: I didn't think it was important?! ~oOo~ Taka: I’m like the Malcolm X of our community! ~oOo~ Jack: Hey Siri, what was it like being poor and Asian? Marie: Terrible from what I’ve heard from my grandma. Peyton: Well, the mangoes aren’t as good in America. ~oOo~ Toly: I love fencing. I get to make new friends then stab them. ~oOo~ Vasya: I think I'm dying! Matt: Honey we're all dying. Vladimir, smacks Matt on the back of the head: What is your fucking problem tonight?! ~oOo~ Ravdí: Peyton, when you asked us to choreograph a dance number for this musical, you did not say that it was for Maddie’s zombie love story. Peyton: Yeah! Isn’t it a great idea?! Maddie’s story makes for a great musical and with you and Vas making a dance, I think this will be a big hit! Vasya, staring at Jamie: ... uh huh. Got this.... Ravdí: ... fiiine. We’re choreographing a dance number for zombies in love. Let’s go, Vas. ~oOo~ Bucky, wearing galaxy print yoga pants: Look my pants are out of this world so shove it. Vladimir: ... damn that was good. High five, Yakov. ~oOo~ Honor: Richard, I can taste your axe body spray. Get off of me! ~oOo~ Vasya: Well a drunk Stalin called me and told me that if I wanted Russia, he’d just give it to me! Matt: ... we need new Sunday dinner topics... Shauna: Ooh! I got one! Vladimir! You smell like melted cheese! Jack, whispering to Toly: You owe me five bucks. Eight minutes in and they’re screaming at each other. Matt, sighing: This is fine... Anatoly: I have vodka. Do you want some? ~oOo~ Yelena: If that boy so much as touches her I am destroying him. Natasha: I've already thought of ways we can hide his body. Yelena: I love you so much. ~oOo~ Michael: Both of my girls could kick my ass without even blinking and I find it unbelievably amazing. ~oOo~ Brad: Ooh authentic Chinese food! Diane: It's not Chinese, it's Asian! André: ... ya'll bitches be trippin'. ~oOo~ Richard: So I talked to your sister about who's the boss on this group project. Jack: Uh huh. How'd that go exactly? Who's in charge on your project? Richard: ... it's still unclear. Jack: Right. My sister is in charge, isn't she? Richard, sighing: I can't tell her no. ~oOo~ Maddie: ... why is there a live bear in the house? Marci: What? ... Ahhh! Bear! ~oOo~ Vladimir, saluting lazily: Aye aye captain. Yelena, ugly snort laughs: Shut up Vova. ~oOo~ Bucky: So how's that Eurofest thing going? Vladimir, pausing: ... you mean Eurovision? Bucky, snapping his fingers: Yep! That's it. ... don't look at me like that. I was closer that time than I was earlier. Vladimir: ... this. Is true. I don't even know what you said earlier. ~oOo~ Toly: Hey, Al? Alexei: Yeah? Toly: What was that? Alexei: An icecream commercial. Toly: No the fuck it wasn’t! Don’t you lie to me! ~oOo~ Jack: So you love my sister? Michael: Sí, more than air. Why? Jack: Would you be willing to take a bullet for her? Michael: ... yes? Why? Jack: I'll see you at the pier later tonight, Moretti. ~oOo~ Alexei: Man if one more person tells me that I am appropriating my own got dang culture Imma beat someone's ass. ~oOo~ Richard: I can't believe you said that! If you weren't a lady, I'd deck you! Vasya: You try and I'll have you on your back so fast you'll think you're out on a date! ~oOo~ Raphael: Wait, wait, wait! Hold on. You’re dumping me? For him? Nika, rolling her eyes: No, I’m dumping you, period. And then I’m gonna be with him. Period. If... that’s okay with him, question mark. Francis: Totally. Exclamation point. Raphael: Oh puke. Parenthesis, bold, underline. Michael, holding Smolya: Snort laughing. ... period. Raphael: Why are you even here? Michael: This is my apartment! ~oOo~ Yelena, after explaining a plan: It’s brilliant, right? Vladimir: Not brilliant at all. Yelena: Thanks for being on board. Vladimir: No. Not on board. Yelena: It means a lot. Vladimir: Big mistake. Very big mistake. Yelena: This will be wonderful! Vladimir: We are going to die slow, painful deaths. ~oOo~ Yelena: You get them! Vladimir: No you go get them! Natasha: What is going on out here? Yelena: We thought- Vladimir: Ah! No! There was no 'we'! Yelena: Shut up! We thought that the girls needed some life lessons... Vladimir: It was Lena's idea. Matt: Don't you dare tell me that Vasya and Nika, who are small toddlers may I add, are somewhere up there on that 100 foot tall building! Yelena: Okay, we won't. Vladimir: ... again, her idea. ~oOo~ Vasya: Fuck you! Dimitri: Later. Now shut up. I was talking. ~oOo~ Jack: I want to kill those guys! Vladimir: No! Matt: What a shocking turn of events... Vladimir: I don’t want you to bloody your beautiful hands! I will do it! ~oOo~ Vladimir: Oh congrats! You’ve made my seven year old look like a whore! Shauna: I think she looks great! Vasya: I think I want a leather jacket and combat boots now! Matt, groaning: Our seven year old is joining the mafia! ~oOo~ Rikki: I am a chapstick lesbian- is that the proper term for this? Because I’m not a lipstick lesbian, I’m definitely not femme, but I’m not entirely butch either? So I think I identify as a chaptstick les- screw it. I identify as chapstick! Just chapstick! Darla: What kind of chaptstick though? Sasha: Is it cherry? Because I see you as a cherry. ~oOo~ Marie: I’m like a Little Ceaser’s Pizza. Always hot and ready to go. Jack: Oh my god... Peyton: You’re gross. And I hate you. ~oOo~ Alexei: Toly’s a crackhead. Toly: I am not! I’m a motha fucking ganster! Alexei: See? Smokes crack. Andrey: I’m seeing myself out of this argument. ~oOo~ Yelena: All these screaming babies and yelling mothers and angry dads and annoying teenagers. They make me want to shoot up this mall. Nika: You cannot say that in public! Yelena: Why not?! It’s my second amendment right to shoot up a shopping center! Nika: NO! ~oOo~ Darla: I’m not much into BDSM. If I wanted to be whipped and chained up I’d just go back in time. ~oOo~ Peyton: Oh my sweet, poor, Japanese cherry blossom... Taka: Thank you. ~oOo~ Michael: This person wants us to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to them?! What?! Rahphael, snorts: That’s not happening. What do they think this is? Applebees?! ~oOo~ Peyton: It annoys me so much when people come here asking if we have a table and then get so offended when we don’t have them because of incoming reservations. Jamie: Honestly! What do they think this is?! Applebees?! We are a five star establishment! ~oOo~ Anatoly: You three better eat these pierogies! I didn’t starve in Utkin for you to deny yourselves food! Alexei, Toly, and Andrey, sighing: Yes, sir... ~oOo~ Bucky: You are a whole ass menace to society! Yelena: I will live. ~oOo~ Wesley: ... I’ve lost Maya. Fisk: Again, Wesley? Wesley, sighing: Unfortunately. ~oOo~ Lucy: I fear nothing. Not even god. Dani, Vasya, and Honor, watching her drink a smoothie: You’re disgusting. Jack: Can I have some of your smoothie? ~oOo~ Daisy: Being an inhuman is genetic. Vladimir: She gets this from your side of the family, Matthew! Daisy: But... you two adopt- Matt: I know. Don’t ask. Go with it. ~oOo~ Ian: Ugh, what do I take for hangovers? Darla: How horribly caucasian. Marie, snorts: Ha! Darla: Well isn’t it?! Marie, shrugging: I don’t know. I get the Asian flush so I take medicine before drinking. ~oOo~ Vladimir: I wonder what she’s going to buy... Matt: I wonder where she got the money... Jack: Vasi’s buying a bag of pepperoni! ~oOo~ Shauna: Look, we all know Toly won’t get into Harvard otherwise- Toly: What if I don’t want to go to Harvard?! Shauna: Ugh fine! Yale then! Toly: But mom- Shauna: Harvard or Yale Anatoly Jr! ~oOo~ Vasya: At least you all woke up in a bed! I woke up in the garbage! Jack: Okay. But. That’s nothing new. Nika, elbows him: Don’t be rude. ~oOo~ Sasha: I was in the dumpster! The dumpster! Rikki: My mom is blue! Darla: So I can see that this is a very stressful time for you both... ~oOo~ Dani: Lucy’s gonna be a minute. Vasya: Did she wake up in the trash too? Dani: No, she woke up half Asian. Lucy’s having a full blown identity crisis. ~oOo~ Vladimir: Your house is full! Full of sadness and emptiness! Yelena: Alright first off, you’re rude. Second, you’re a hoarder! ~oOo~ Sam: We don’t need this! Bucky: Sam, need and want are two different things. ~oOo~ Matt: I may not have vision but at least I have taste! ~oOo~ Vladimir: Ooh! For realsky?! Vasya: For suresky! ~oOo~ Anatoly: No son of mine is going to listen to shitty rap about doing cocaine! Alexei, thinking to himself: Please don’t tell mom... Anatoly: And Alexei Anatolyevitch! I am telling! Your mother! Alexei: Noooo!!!! ~oOo~ Therapist: Mr. Murdock, I think that Ms. Natchios may be one of your triggers. Matt: Please! I don’t have triggers! I am fine! Vladimir, snorts and coughs to cover it up: Okay. Elektra: Suuure you are Matthew. Matt: I will throw this chair at you, I swear to God! Don’t test me! ~oOo~ Shauna, lunging for Wesley: Augh! I can’t take it anymore! Vladimir, watching her punch Wesley: Shauna has earned my respect. Matt: It only took you five years to give it to her... ~oOo~ Jack: I’m so American that my favorite food is a McDonald’s cheeseburger! ~oOo~ Vladimir: If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?! Vasya: I dunno! Maybe if they invited me! Matt, slowly rubs his temples: ... I have a headache now... ~oOo~ Yelena: I drive like I have nothing to live for. Which I don’t really. Vladimir: Remind me to never drive near you with my children in the car. Natasha: And remind me to drive Nika around from now on. ~oOo~ Rikki: What do Asian parents beat their kids with? Francis: I don’t know. Textbooks? Ian: Rulers with F’s written on them? Jack: Slippers? Marie, glaring: I’m judging you all harshly. Jack: But are we wrong?! Marie: They feed us! Francis: Well that’s not a punishment. Marie: It is if you don’t like the thing they’re making you eat. ~oOo~ Vladimir: Has anyone seen my son?! He’s about yay tall! Clearly gay! But we haven’t had the talk yet! ~oOo~ Yelena: SHOW ME LOVE! SHOW ME LOVE! Nika: Mom... what is going on? Natasha, stirring her coffee: Oh just the usual amount of bullshit I deal with on a daily basis due to your other mother. ~oOo~ Maddie: I’m supposed to be in class. Ravdí: It’s okay, I’m supposed to be at work. ~oOo~ Darla: Oh what do I know?! Only what’s best for you! Rikki: I’m self destructive. Darla: I was just kidding. Rikki: I wasn’t. ~oOo~ Anatoly: How’s your dad’s restaurant doing? Alex: Very well. Alexei: Grandpa deletes bad reviews off his facebook so it only has five star reviews. He sees two stars, delete! Five star, it stays. Alex: He needs to fix the roof. Anatoly: ... what’s wrong with the roof? Alex: It’s old. Alexei: It leaks. Alex: The AC needs to be fixed too. Anatoly: What’s wrong with the AC? Alex: It’s old. Alexei: It’s broken. Shauna: ... I love your dad’s restaurant! ~oOo~ Vasya: Does anyone know if the damage control shampoo works on PTSD? Adrian: What about emotions? Asking for a friend. ~oOo~ Yelena: Oh god it’s missing! Natasha: What is? Yelena: The... the thing! Natasha, turning to face Yelena with baby Nika in her arms: What ‘thing’, Lenosha? Yelena, sighing in relief: Oh thank god, you found it. Natasha: ... you mean our daughter?! ~oOo~ Francis: A four letter word starting with ‘c’. Go! Rikki: Cock! Jack: Cunt! Rikki: Ooh! Nice one. Vasya: ... mine is corn. Nika: Well that’s adorable. Darla: Cute. ~oOo~ Vladimir: So it’s just a girls night? Vasya: Yeah, we’re just going to see a movie, grab a bite to eat, talk to the dead, and, if we have time, try to commit arson. Vladimir: Okay, have fun and don’t come back too late! Matt: ... after all that you just let her leave?! She said she’s going to commit arson, Vladimir! Vladimir: No, she said they’re going to try! They have to talk to the dead first, Matthew! ~oOo~ Matt, on the phone with Brett: Yeah, hey, if you get a call about a fire, can you give me a call? No reason. ~oOo~ Ravdí: Hey! I waterboarded myself! ~oOo~ Honor: This is a three day vacation! Lucy: Where are we supposed to be sleeping?! Richard: Well I just assumed you two would be inside each other. Jack, spits his drink out: ... ~oOo~ Vasya: So I met this girl at this coffee shop this morning- Honor: Oh no... No no no no. Vasi. You will not come out of this alive. Vasya: Uh... excuse me? Honor: She’s clearly a cannibal. Have you looked at yourself? You’re clearly an easy target. You’re a ballerina and very well marbled. If I were stuck on a deserted island with no food, I would absolutely eat you first. Literally everyone just stares: ... ~oOo~ AJ, the highschool art teacher, very clearly drunk: Listening to Brad talk is like listening to a horny bear claw into a chalkboard. I’m not pleased. Matt: ... well neither am I with that in mind. Shauna: I’m going to throw up. Bucky: God I love PTA meetings! ~oOo~ Honor: Gay kid! Alexei, blinks a lot: ... Honor: Asian girl! Marie: ... Marie. It’s not a hard name. Honor: Asian girl two! Peyton, inhaling deeply: ... she’s a kid. Breathe... Honor: Panda Express! Jamie: ... I swear to god... Honor: Weird twins! Rikki and Darla, blink and roll their eyes: ... Honor: Creepy incest twins! Jack and Vasya: ... we are not- Richard: Okay! So theater club meeting is in session now! ~oOo~ Ravdí: Sloppy babies! You’re all sloppy babies! Dani: Maybe we shouldn’t be calling the freshmen that. And give them encouraging words of wisdom instead? Ravdí: No! They keep dropping their flags! Again, babies! ~oOo~ Richard: Aren’t most of you gay? Honor: How dare you! ~oOo~ Ravdí: I’m sorry. All this time I’ve been treating you like an unpaid intern. When what I should have been doing is treating you like a paid intern. ~oOo~ Jack: Buenos dias, fuckboy! Ian, screaming shrilly: ... ~oOo~ Alexei: We’re all going to die someday. Well. Some of us. Toly: If you figure out immortality you have to share. Alexei: Uh. No. You’re annoying. Andrey: Will you share with me? Alexei: Maybe. ~oOo~ Alexei: Let’s come together! Like Voltron! Andrey: I’m the leg! Toly, rolling his eyes, softly but with feeling: ... fiiine. Losers. ~oOo~ Jack: I wrote this song for my sister! Vasya, closing her eyes, softly but with feeling: Ohgodno... Jack: I wrote this song to tell her that I’m always by her side! Even when we fight! Vladimir & Matt: Aww! ~oOo~ Andrey: Sometimes I feel like Ugolyok films me while in the shower and is waiting to sell the videos on Craigslist. Toly: ... what is wrong with you...? Alexei: ... I... uh... kay. ~oOo~ Lucy and Honor, trapped in an elevator, staring at a creepy puppet on a bike: ... What the ... hell... The puppet: Hello, girls. Let’s play a game. Lucy and Honor, banging on the door: Get us out of here! ~oOo~ Dani: You’re not letting them out of the elevator, are you? Richard: Nope. Not until they confess their feelings. Vasya: This is maniacal... I like this plan. Jack: You are all. So fucked up. ~oOo~ Maddie: I’m going to start projectile vomiting any second now... ~oOo~ The Principal of the highschool: I say we release the hounds into the school. Nick, the highschool science teacher, eyes wide: Let us not do that. AJ, the highschool art teacher: I think it might build character and therefore I veto Nick. ~oOo~ Ravdí, screaming as she runs down the hall: Why are there so many dogs in the hallways?! Vasya: This is the opposite of a problem! Francis: I love them all! Nika, climbing up the lockers, and hissing: Leave me alone! Unless you’re planning on eating my math homework! ~oOo~ Vasya: I will stop at nothing until you are homeless and drinking gutter water. Richard: Ouch. You’re rude.

[funeral-clown]

@demibuckybarnes

it’s jdox

it’s got some smut

it’s got some banter

it’s got some daddy kink

it’s got a whole bunch of girls names

it’s got sins against the pizza gods

read it if you want

The handle of the door dug into his back through the thin cotton of his shirt, leaving JD wincing. He was more concerned with his front, however, where Dr. Cox had him pinned, snarling, hands furled into tight fists around his shirt. The position exposed a frankly embarrassing amount of belly to the cool air. At least he was wearing a shirt, unlike the growling man currently pinning him to the wall.

“Cassandra,” his mentor grit out, “What in the hell were you thinking, dropping in unannounced on my one day off this week?”

JD started to stammer out a response, only to be roughly jostled into silence.

“Let me to that one for ya there, sweetheart. ‘Oh, how I miss my stud of a resident! He must be lonely, up in his apartment with his scotch and his flat-screen tv and his premium sports cable package! I should go annoy him, thus taking away any chance of him drinking himself into the sweet oblivious void where the hospital, it’s patients, and most importantly I do not exist!’ Am I somewhere close, precious?”

JD sulked.

“I just thought you might want a buddy. You have my back in the hospital, and I have yours-”

A sharp whistle cut him off.

“For the last time, Cassiopeia, I don’t “have your back.” I do my job, which is to make sure you don’t kill all your patients! And it’s a damn exhausting effort! So forgive me for wanting a few hours to myself to drink scotch, watch hockey, and put my hand down my pants-” at this JD’s gaze shifted downwards to his sweats-”eyes up HERE sunshine- without any life or death disasters looming over me or sparkly Disney-princess eyed fan girls looming behind me! Now give me one good reason not to kick your ass.”

JD fluttered his eyelashes. Perry growled and shook him again.

“I’ll pay for pizza?”

There was a pause. His eyes narrowed, considering. After what felt like an eternity, he grunted and let him go. JD let out a small breath of relief, giddy at the chance to bond.

“Fine, but we’re getting pineapple and anchovies and I won’t hear you bitch about it.”

“Anchovies on half?”

“You’ll get anchovies on all of it and you’ll like it!”

“Fine.”

JD rolled his eyes and dialed the number as his dubiously enthusiastic companion returned to the couch.

“There’s beer in the fridge.”

“I thought you were drinking scotch?”

“Correctamundo, I am, in fact, drinking scotch. You, however, are a degenerate upon whom fine liquor is wasted. So you will be drinking beer.”

JD grinned.

“Thanks, Perry. Thoughtful of you to provide a drink, knowing I hate whiskey and all.”

The teasing lilt was not missed by his irate companion, who scoffed before crossing his arms.

“I just refuse to see good booze go to waste on the ungrateful. Now go get your pansy water. And hey! Newbie!”

JD froze halfway to the fridge and looked back.

“No more first naming me. We are not friends, we are not buddies, I am your superior, and it’s Doctor Cox, Big Dog, or, since this is my house, My Lord. Got it?”

JD nodded resolutely.

“You got it, Doctor Per-Bear.”

He cackled and ducked away from the pillow sent flying at his head with a snarl.

“First strike, Deirdre.” 

Still quietly laughing, he grabbed a beer and returned.

“So! Who’s playing?”

“Mouth shut, eyes open, princess. You’ll figure it out.”

“What, no rant about the grand history of the sport?”

“Here’s a rant for ya. If you open your mouth again before the pizza gets here, I’m going to spit in your beer like all the waitresses at the bar do.”

“Ha! Jokes on you, I drink appletinis at the bar!”

“Strike two. And now if you talk, I’m going to kick your ass and throw you out.”

JD took a sullen sip and dramatically gestured to his closed mouth.

“Ah, sweet relief. If I’d known how absolutely giddy it would make me to hear you not speak, I would have bribed the Janitor for duct tape ages ago.”

JD stuck his tongue out. He got a raised eyebrow for his troubles.

“Problem, Betsy?”

He shook his head.

“Awww, buck up there, kid. Tell ya what, if my team rallies by the next period, Daddy might just let you have a sip of his scotch like a big girl.”

JD rolled his eyes and took another drag of his beer.

“Thirsty?”

He shrugged.

“Fine, but you better enjoy it. Little girls like you can only have so many. I’ve met your brother, and I’m not letting another lightweight Dorian crash on my couch.”

JD grinned.

“What? Ohhhhh, did I allllllmost call you by your name, there, Suzy? Don’t worry, Newbie, it won’t happen again.”

JD did his best to project his internal thoughts through his eyes.

“Can’t tell if you’re pissed off or turned on. See, that’s the face Jordan makes when she’s angry, and when she’s angry, I usually get laid. But. Well. Hate to ruin your dreams of a white picket fence, but that’s just not happening, Francesca. I’m not the settle-down type.”

JD gave up on projection and simply flipped him off.

“Thatta girl.”

Perry cuffed him roughly behind the head and grinned.

They both watched silently, drinking their alcohol, until the pizza finally arrived. JD looked to Perry, who gave a small grunt and gestured to the door, eyes glued to the screen. JD paid for the food abomination and chattered lightly to the pizza delivery man, just because he could. The sense of his mentor’s growing frustration only heightened the glee he took in finally communicating with another human being. 

“Darlene! Let the nice hostage go, he has places to be tonight!”

Smiling awkwardly, the man took his tip and left.

“Just had to rub it in there, huh, Newbie?”

“I learned from the best, Big Dog.”

The small snort he got in response was accompanied by the tiniest of smiles. Progress, that was almost laughter. Perry must have already been half tipsy when he got here.

“Well come on, sweetheart, you gonna bring the pizza over here like a good little bitch, or am I gonna have to ask the service for a new french maid?”

“Shall I get you a refill too, sir?”

“That’s more like it.”

JD rolled his eyes and acquiesced. 

“Jordan must really be into dirty talk.”

Perry froze, slice halfway to his mouth.

“Come again?”

“I mean. You’re always calling people names, and getting weirdly descriptive. She must be into it, if she keeps coming back to you.”

His eyes hardened.

“Jordan, mythic bitch that she is, is into a lot of things. Namely, making me miserable. None of which is your business, considering, oh, we’ve BOTH slept with her, and I spend my every waking moment trying to forget her little experiment with lesbianism. No, you know what? We’re all friends here. Why dontcha go ahead and tell me there, princess, does scissoring actually work, or is it just in porn?”

“Just porn.”

Perry’s eyes bulged.

“You are perilously close to losing speaking privileges again.”

“You asked!”

“I have seen your penis, unfortunately, I think we could all safely assume it was a rhetorical question.”

“I only know because Elliot told me.”

“You know what? I could actually stand to hear more.”

“Sorry, Doctor Cox,” JD said smugly, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“So you frenched a lesbian.”

“Well she said she wanted to be sure!”

“And she decided to go about that by kissing the most effeminate man alive.”

JD pouted.

“I’m not the most effeminate man ALIVE.”

“Darla, you’re a bad wig and a touch of mascara from being a full on drag queen on a butch day.”

“Yes, I get it, I’m a girl, eat your pizza.”

“Damn right you are,” Perry muttered, and continued to do just that. 

JD grabbed another beer for himself, but as he began to sit, a foot shot out to occupy his space. 

“What now?”

“They’re doing a piss poor job out there. Change seats with me.”

“Seriously?”

“Do you want to get kicked out?”

At this point the threat sounded half-hearted. For all his bluster, they were having a good time, easy banter tossed back and forth over pizza and booze. Perry had been planning to spend another evening alone, and while he might have fooled himself he preferred it, the half bottle of scotch warming his belly loosened his facade enough that he could admit, if only to himself, that he didn’t half mind the company. His eyes skated over to JD, settling himself into the warmth Perry had left, mouth wrapped around the neck of his beer, eyes staring off into nothing. He’d been lonely. Now he got a seat warmer and free pizza. It could be worse.

“It’s toasty over here. Like I’m being warmed in a Cox Oven.”

JD’s head tilted tellingly sideways as Perry groaned and threw another pillow at him.

“Alright, Mary Beth, that’s where I draw my line!”

A look of delighted mischief crossed his companion’s face.

“Pillow fight!”

“Wait, fuck, no, the game-”

His protests were cut off by a blunt fluffy force connecting with the side of his head and pushing him against the couch cushions. Damn it, he couldn’t take that lying down. It was on.

Game ignored, Perry launched a full scale feathery assault. Laughing, JD returned volley with his own attacks. They stood up and clashed together, pillows laying mighty blows, hockey game forgotten. JD ducked behind the couch for cover, striking out when his opponent peeked over the edge. Snarling, Perry slammed him with a displaced couch cushion. 

It was clear there was only one recourse if victory was what he hoped to achieve.

“EAGLE!” JD cried, and leaped through the air, tackling Perry over the arm of the couch and against the ajar cushions beneath. His eyes went wide as he went down, bowled over backwards into a soft and pillowy landing. Panting, shaking with laughter, JD beamed down at him.

“I win!” he crowed, and something about the moment, him perched on his chest, the unabashed joy, the rising heat from the exercise, the flushed faces and sparkling eyes, made Cox feel something. 

Not something for the first time. Feel is perhaps not the correct word. As he stared up into the joyous expression on his opponent’s face, he let himself acknowledge something he had been feeling for a while.

Fondness.

Percival Cox was fond of him.

In an instant, he felt it, recognized it, accepted it, and moved on. Fondness aside, victory in the hands of the enemy was unacceptable.

“You think so, huh, Sally Ann?” he murmured, panting himself, eyes half slits.

“Uh, yeah, I totally took your ass down.”

He scoffed, hands coming up to JD’s waist.

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Did not.”

JD’s breath caught as Perry’s hands squeezed.

“D. Did too.”

He smirked.

“Betcha can’t do it again.”

“Wh. What?”

Startled and off balance, it was easy enough for Perry to lean up, closer, lips nearly brushing against the curve of his cheek, and murmur, “I said. I bet. You can’t. Topple me. Again. Layla.”

JD froze.

“Um-”

Moving quickly, Perry flipped them over onto the floor, pinning him underneath. He grinned viciously.

“HA! I win. Now. Tell me who’s the greatest.”

JD grumbled, still taken off kilter.

“Newbie, don’t make me tickle you.”

“No!” JD squirmed underneath, trying to buck him off. It felt. Interesting.

“Then who’s the greatest?”

Pouting, he gave up the struggle. It was almost disappointing.

“You are.”

“And who can never be defeated?”

“You!”

“And who just kicked your girly little ass all over this living room?”

“I don’t know if I would put it like that, exactly, but-”

Perry brought his arms together to be held down with one hand, letting the other tease at the sensitive skin on his stomach. JD squealed and started squirming again.

“Fine! You did! You totally kicked my girly ass!”

“And that makes you?”

“.....Really thirsty?”

“Sally.“

JD sighed.

“Your bitch.”

“There’s my girl. Now, I’m not letting you up until you say ‘Doctor Cox, you’re the strongest, smartest, sexiest man alive, and I’m so, so lucky that I’m your bitch.’ Got that?”

“I’m not saying that!”

“Why not? It’s the truth. Not like you weren’t thinking it.”

“Can’t I just bark like a dog again?”

“MMmmmmmmnope! Not quite the level of humiliation I’m going for, sugar.”

“Fine! And then you’ll let me up?”

“Swear it on my father’s grave.”

JD grit his teeth.

“Doctor Cox.”

“Yessssssssss, Lacy?”

“You are the strongest. Smartest. S.”

“Say it.”

“Sexiest man alive.”

“God, it’s so good to hear the truth come out. Annnnnnnnd?”

JD gave a last token effort to release himself from his banded grip. Perry simply pressed down on his wrists.

“And I am so, so lucky to be your bitch. You asshole.”

Perry hummed thoughtfully.

“Gonna have to deduct points for the ad-libbing, there, Georgia, but overall a fine performance.”

“Now let me up!”

Perry grinned.

“Confession time, Samantha. I hate my father.”

“Wha-”

He was cut off by his mentor’s tongue in his mouth.

Oh.

Oh.

Well okay then.

Groaning, he opened his mouth wider to let him in deeper. He tasted like scotch and anchovies. It was the single most disgusting mixture JD could possibly think of. But his dick was still more than happy with the change of procedure. Pushing against his hands, he tried to press further into him, but even with the distraction Perry held firm.

Very firm, if what was rubbing against his thigh was any indication. Gasping, JD broke away for air, Cox’s lips chasing after, sliding across the corner of his mouth, his cheek, beneath his ear, down his throat, leaving small painful nips along the way that made JD’s skin tighten and burn.

“Is that your ego, or are you just happy to see me?” he choked out, giggling when Perry growled against his ear.

“Try stroking it and find out.”

“I w. Would love to, there, but I, uh, fuck.” Perry sucked a bruise into the base of his throat, half purring. “I can’t seem to get use of my hands.”

“Don’t need ‘em,” Perry muttered, nosing at his hairline while JD pressed kisses to his face, “Like you right where you are.”

“Perry,” JD whined, trying again to release his hands with futility, “Wanna touch you.”

A sharp bite tugged at the lobe of his ear.

“What’d I say about first names, there, sunshine?”

“But-”

He cut him off with his mouth. Perry quickly decided that this was his new favorite way of shutting him up.

“No first names for you.”

“Well, I am NOT calling you Big Dog when you make me come.”

“Is that what I’m gonna do, Beryl?”

“Come on, I’m already half way there!”

Snickering, Perry ground down hard. They both moaned harshly into each other’s skin.

“Ah, the enthusiasm of the young.”

“N-nnn. Not. Not that young. Jerk.”

“Your creative use of insults has clearly proven me wrong here.” Perry let the hand on his stomach palm JD through his jeans, the heel of his hand rubbing hard on the bulge underneath. “You’re not young. You’re a child.”

“What,” JD moaned as his hips thrust into his hand, “And you’re my Daddy or something?”

Perry froze.

JD bit his lip.

“Doctor Cox?”

He blinked.

“Doctor Cox, I’m sorry, I went too f-”

Definitely his favorite way to shut him up, he decided. Perry finally let go of his arms to tear at his pants. JD brought his hands down to help, only for a dark growl to let out until he brought them back over his head.

Snarling, he finally got them unbuttoned and unzipped, drug them down over JD’s thighs and off his body before pushing his own sweatpants down.

“That what you’re into? Huh?”

His hand wrapped firmly around JD’s dick, pulling him out of his boxers and stroking roughly.

“Don’t know why I’m surprised. Always following me around, daydreaming. This what you wanted?”

JD let out a small whimper at the rough handling.

“This it? Dumb new kid with big lost eyes. You just want Daddy to take care of you? Huh?” 

He stroked faster.

“Well? You gonna be a good girl? Tell me the truth,” he licked at his nipples, biting, “Or you’re getting punished. Can already tell you need a. Ha. A firm hand.”

JD’s teeth ground together as he tried to focus on anything but the building tension in his balls.

“Yes,” he hissed, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yessss, please, more. Daddy, please.”

“Good girl,” Perry crooned, “So good, asking so nice, making me proud of you, go ahead. Get the first one out of your system, princess. Because when I finally fuck you,” JD whined, “When I finally pound that ass like you always dreamed of, I want you to last more than five measly minutes.”

JD let out a small shriek when he came. Perry stopped to admire his handiwork, boxers and shirt now tacky with semen. His hand was a mess. He held it up, smeared it against JD’s face.

“Lick it.”

JD’s nose scrunched up but his tongue still slipped out, lapping away obediently.

“There ya go. Pretend it’s one of those suckers you’re always stealing from pediatrics. What kind of a sick fuck actually takes candy from babies?”

JD nipped at the webbing between his fingers, eyes alight with teasing.

“Oh, carry on.”

JD’s tongue swirled around his palm, between his fingers, tracing the lines on his hand and sucking it clean.

“There ya go, sweetheart. Just like that.”

He wrapped his lips around two of his fingers, suckling gently. Perry moaned at the sensation, thrust them deeper in.

“Ohhhhh, you’re giving me ideas, Kara. Look at you take it, huh?”

He slid in deeper, to the back of his throat.

“If I weren’t so hard up right now I might even take you up on that. But I have other plans.”

His fingers made a popping sound coming out of his mouth, and JD’s lips were slick with spit.

“I’m pretty good at it, you know.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I got a lot of practice. You know, in college.”

“That the only thing you got practice in?”

JD laughed and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, baby. One of these days, I’ll sneak you into Kelso’s office and you can just go to town. My treat. But right now? Turn over and spread ‘em. I’m gonna go grab some lube.”

JD hesitated.

“Something wrong?”

“It’s just, uh. You know. I didn’t actually expect this, coming over. I didn’t really. You know. Prepare, or anything. And we just ate pizza. With anchovies. Could we. Maybe save that for another night?”

His eyes softened.

“Well, obviously. You’re gonna be coming over a lot more often now, anyways.”

“I am?”

“You are. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Newbie,” Perry gestured to the tv, “But my team won. I think you might be good luck, so we gotta recreate this. Every time.”

JD smirked.

“This exactly?”

“Well,” Perry grinned, “The spirit of it anyway. Now. If I’m not fucking you, and you’ve already gotten off once...”

“Pretend it’s a sucker I stole from a baby?”

“There’s Daddy’s girl.”

JD beamed.

Damn it, he really did look like a Disney princess.

Perry’d have to get him a tiara.

[femmociraptor]

I literally jusf realized I was a lesbian. For the longest time I thought I was bi, then I realized it was just because my mom was always pressuring me to be with men. I’m 19. I feel like a lot of my peers came to this realization sooner. Is that just me? I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do. Also I feel like I’m surrounded by straight girls and I wonder if I’ll ever meet anybody...

[via Pew Research]

The age that people come out can be a very personal thing. It’s affected by a lot of factors, such as class, race, sex, gender, educational access, religion, region, family dynamics, and so on. There are averages to be had for every generation, sure, but the thing with averages is that they don’t tell a meaningful story. A lesbian from a working class family of lapsed Catholics is going to have a different experience from a lesbian from a middle class family of observant Muslims and a Butch lesbian coming from an educated WASP background is going to have a different experience from a Femme lesbian coming from an immigrant family kept intentionally functionally illiterate. You really can’t compare these stories with an eye towards assigning value judgments of who should be doing what and by when without doing a disservice to all the people involved here.

The Pew Research survey said that on the whole, young lesbians today tend to come to terms with their sexuality later than both gay men and bisexuals, with an average age of 18 for knowing and 21 for actually telling someone. There are a lot of reasons for this (compulsory heterosexuality being a major one). At 19, I’d say you’re actually right on track for your age group, despite how it may seem. The thing is, you don’t know how many of your peers are currently wrestling with these topics at the moment and just not talking about it. If you and I had been peers at 19, you would have thought I was one of those straight girls you find yourself surrounded by right now… and yet… :-) These things take time. The nature of coming out being what it is (and now in combination with social media), it can seem like everyone else is hitting those milestones way before you, that you’re a late bloomer, but I promise you, they aren’t and you’re not. You’re a lesbian, full stop, and for the great majority of us, the path to realizing that is not an easy one to take. Given what some of us have had to deal with, it’s a miracle any of us get there at all.

A lot of people (gay and straight) make the mistake of thinking that because so many Western countries have marriage equality right now that most of the work towards eradicating “real” homophobia is done. It’s not. Attitudes are slow to change and family dynamics persist. Lesbian is still a dirty word to many (in every sense of the word) and the cultural expectation of being quiet about your sexuality only works to keep gay people (especially gay women) in the dark and in the closet, purposefully separated from others who may be like them and kept away from that intimate knowledge about themselves. The fact that it takes so many of us so long to realize who we are is not an accident.

As for your mum, I empathize. I am in my 30’s and my mother still points out attractive men to me as potential romantic interests or half-jokingly encourages me to consider this man or that. It’s frustrating and it has gradually lessened over the years but given our starting point, I suspect it will never fully go away. The relationship a gay child has with their straight same-sex parent is often a complicated one. They’re projecting a lot of their own dreams onto you and often can’t separate who they are from who you are. Even the most progressive, pro-marriage equality parent has issues. Supporting something in the abstract is quite different from sitting across from it at the breakfast table or seeing it on display at Aunt Helen’s wedding. A lot of us have had to parent ourselves as a result so if you feel like you are in this category, just know that your path is a well travelled one and there are others like you who can help you. Seek out your local older lesbians and make friends. They are out there waiting to be found and if you go out with kindness and an open heart, more often than not that is what you will receive in turn.

Amongst my friend group, we’ve talked at length about the phenomenon where it feels like, when compared to our straight peers, most gay people are about 10 years behind. So many (out) gay people I know are off by a good 10 years or more compared to their straight peers on their educational goals, their careers, their relationship milestones, family relationships, financial goals (oh so massively behind…), family goals, and so on. It happens so much it’s almost a running joke now. “She’s in her early 30’s which is early 20’s in gay years, so she’s just wrapping up university now”… or how about finally getting the relationship with your parents in your 30s that your siblings had in their 20’s… or seeing lesbians in their 40’s and 50’s finally buying their first home and then seeing the awkward arm pats and “I don’t know why you didn’t do this sooner”’s from their straight friends and family contrasted with the glee and support (and envy) of their gay friends who just get it. To be quite honest, if you weren’t 10 years behind, based on my experience you would be the exception rather than the rule.

I won’t lie to you. You absolutely do have some catching up to do. You have some catching up to do with yourself. Every gay person does. This is a pretty big aspect of who you are that you’re just coming to terms with now and it’s going to change your relationship with yourself and your conception of who you are both in your past and going forward. You also are figuring out some pretty fundamental things about what you like and how you feel and that’s information which your straight peers have had access to their whole lives. And you won’t have the relative protection of adolescence and the legal protection of being a minor as you figure these things out… You won’t have the generally supportive parent who tells you that Jess is a nice girl but honey, you shouldn’t make your university decisions around her… or you will but you won’t be sure whether you can truly trust the motives behind their advice. You will deny and deny that your first bad relationship is actually bad because the other person will become a living stand-in for your gayness and a rejection of them is a rejection of you. And the “I told you so”’s in the aftermath when you finally end it will feel personal in a way you can’t quite describe… and the decisions you made during that relationship to keep it afloat will have greater and longer lasting consequences than the ones you might have made at 16. No one tells lesbians what safe lesbian sex is in health class and so you will fumble through your first few encounters and have to cobble together a bunch of broken and vague resources to try to construct your own understanding of how it works and you will find that when you first go to get tested, 9 times out of 10 that shitty About.com article you read at 2am will have more useful information to give you than the person sitting in front of you with a healthcare degree and sensible shoes. You will be tempted to get wrapped up in the celebratory nature of marriage equality (as will the good people around you), will feel yourself wanting something positive and good and unapologetic in your sometimes positive and sometimes good but often apologetic gay life, will find yourself seduced by the promise of legitimacy for who you are and the person you love, and will want to get married to the first healthy long term girlfriend you have… and if that relationship ends (as many, many do), you will have to decide amidst the grief whether you will mourn its demise in private or brave the disappointment and almost inappropriate investment your community had in your (very personal) life while also being a Bad Gay in the eyes of both the straight and sometimes gay people around you. As a gay person and specifically as a gay woman, you will have to learn to be your own biggest advocate. You will have to develop a spine of steel. You will have to go forward and forge a life for yourself with few role models and even fewer mentors. You’re blazing a path and it won’t be easy.

But it will be rewarding… especially compared with the alternative.

Be gentle with yourself. It’s hard and you’re just getting started but the payoff is a life well lived and (hopefully) well loved. You will meet someone, several someones if you’re lucky, and the more you live your life, the more you will notice a young lesbian coming into her own, growing up and finding out just who and what she is and being surprised time and time again at just how strong she really can be when all is said and done. You have the promise of an entire life stretching out in front of you. What do you want to do with that promise?

Never forget that you are a gay woman who was formed in a culture that was not meant for women and or for gays and would deny the agency and humanity to both. The fact that you are even at this point at all is a testament to your strength and the resiliency of your human spirit. Don’t dismiss that. It’s a hell of a thing and it will carry you a long way. Coming out to yourself as a lesbian is a massive achievement and I know first hand just how hard you’ve had to struggle and I want to say that I’m proud of you. There is a reason it’s called pride… because you’ve had to fight like hell (and you had to win) to get here.

[unholy-fabray]

Butch-ifying every female character on Glee

Step 2: Tina and Mercedes

@warblercore brought up the sad fact that there are zero (ZERO!!) butches on Glee, and I think that needs to be fixed…

This time I bring you Mercedes and Tina! Check out part 1 (Brittana) here.

[thegoing-gayhoax-blog]

“Ars Ratio” Reflection (Second Draft)

Kara Ireland

WRIT 3160

Reflection

 What's in my portfolio? In my portfolio are various modes of the depiction of how the myth of going gay functions in society. I've compiled a series of gifs, pictures, and scenes from various shows. These shows include MTV’s Faking It, ABC’s Glee, FOX’s Scream Queens, and Freeform’s The Bold Type. My argumentative piece follows these depictions. I used MTV’s Faking It pilot episode as my main source of scrutiny. I listed numerous discrepancies I had with the show. Mainly, I wanted to highlight how damaging the very first portrayal of lesbians on mainstream television since The L Word was. It was revolutionary for me because I was struggling with my own sexuality at the age of fifteen. Seeing two women in a same sex relationship at any stretch was good exposure for me, it increased my sense of normalcy. It wasn't until I got older, got more experience, and a wider world view that I began to see how awful the show’s premise was. My argumentative paper ventures into how I felt it missed the mark. I then have a comedy skit that will be supposedly performed at Atlanta’s Gay Pride. This original piece is modeled after the kind of comedy I'd seen at my own experience at Pride 2017. Most of the comedy was made at the expense of heterosexual people. In a safe environment full of people who have had similar experiences, it was okay to poke fun at the majority. The skit touches on inappropriate touching, unrequited crushes, and personal experience with girls supposedly going gay. It addresses some of the bothersome situations lesbians often run into in a lighthearted way.

My third argument was a series of tweets I’d composed in response to real-life depictions of “going gay.” I searched buzz words on twitter, such as “be gay, go gay, try girls” etc. to reply to. Though confined to 140 characters – even less, because of the handle, I felt that I’d used Aristotelian appeals accurately to challenge their beliefs.

 The gif set from The Bold Type contrasts the problematic tropes shown in both Faking It and Glee. It supports a stereotype, then dismantles it. In the first gif set, Kat is shown identifying with the lesbian experience, but saying that she didn't think she could get past “all this” referencing to the female anatomy. The lesbian character of the show, Adena, countered her statement with “it's not about all this. It's about this” in reference to her heart and emotion regarding a person.

 I believe this is relevant to my discussion because Kat admitted that the sexual nature of their budding relationship was offputting, as she did not identify as a lesbian. She was merely exploring her sexuality, and she'd done so by kissing Adena. They hadn't gone further, and she didn't think she could pursue a relationship because of the sexual barrier that existed between them. Adena validated it, but also said that it wasn't about the body. Being in a relationship transcended sex and the parts involved. It rested solely on the heart and the emotion surrounding the couple that determined it's sustenance. This was the point I was trying to convey, myself through my argumentative paper. Too many people believe that “going gay” is about sex, when it is only a mere part of the exploratory experience. To truly give oneself to a same sex relationship, it needs more substance than an attraction and willingness to explore. The Bold Type executed this well.

 ABC’s Glee enacted several stereotypical tropes about lesbians and gays throughout their series, but it was mostly for educational purposes to highlight and identify bigotry. Nevertheless, the openly lesbian character, Santana, was made out to be predatory in several instances. Quinn was one of her best friends, and they eventually had sex together. The scene where it happened was on prom night, when they were both single and feeling lonely. Alcohol was featured heavily in the episode. It implied that intoxication can make someone “go gay”. Quinn then emphasized the fact that she'd never slow danced with a girl before, and Santana smirked at her. This is the predatory lesbian fallacy being portrayed. The scene then cut from Santana leading her away by the hand from the party to a suggestive morning after scene. Additionally, with prior knowledge from the season, Quinn had gone through a rebellious bad girl phase, and this was amongst the last things she did. It was never explicitly said that this was part of her regime, but it can be interpreted that way.

 FOX’s Scream Queens was a satirical show that was made to offend people in the masses. There was no stroke to identify why the quotes were problematic, but it was understood by most that it was satire. There was one butch lesbian on the show, who was one of the first killed during a serial killing. She was dubbed Predatory Lez immediately, and we never learned her real name. In her brief duration, she developed a superficial relationship with Chanel #3 based on lewd jokes. Naming a character Predatory Lez does not help the view that lesbians really are predatory and infringe on boundaries. Viewers never got insight on the intricacies of their peculiar relationship, but at one point, Chanel #3 begs the killer not to kill her because she was “sort of gay now too”. Beyond the implication that a few kisses and explicit jokes made between one another changed someone's sexuality, it was also used as a discriminatory saving grace. She partially identified as a member of the LGBT community to be pardoned. She denied it later. This abrupt change makes it hard for people to come out. Though the show is based on satire, it does have parallels to real, ignorant people that think this way.

   Through this class, I have discovered that argument transcends pro and con. Essentially, everything is an argument. Commercials, designs, font choice, music, inflection, gesture, clothing, hairstyle – everything has the potential to be an argument. Anything can be designed to persuade. After analyzing various shows, I began to consider them differently. Words are not the only mode of argument because everything has the power to make a statement.

 I have learned that the color scheme of a product or an advertisement serves to persuade someone, years prior. Since being in this class, I have learned that the mere existence of the product is an argument within itself. The product serves an argumentative purpose initially. It was difficult to wrap my mind around, but throughout the semester, my mindset has been malleable. It has increasingly made more sense. In reading Heinrichs, mostly, I was offered several new perspectives through relatable material. I would like to thank you, Dr. Harris, for assigning such a book – rather than a text that is purely academic. It was much easier to read and retain. By reading Heinrichs, it has become more apparent to me that argument lives in everything.

 The philosophy of argument and writing is something I’m not entirely well-versed in. I understood it minimally when I came in, and I still have a tentative hold on it now. When I was a junior in high school I learned for the first time what ethos pathos and logos were. At Chamblee, Coach Smith taught it to us. It’s funny because we never even did anything with that information. I think we might’ve had one project or assignment that incorporated it, then I put it on the backburner. We learned the basics. When I came into WRIT 3160 three years later, I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t plan on delving into Aristotelian appeals because I didn’t know about them and truthfully, I didn’t care about that stuff. For every argument I’ve made in the past, every persuasive paper, it was solely the rights and wrongs and do’s and don’ts. It was all pros and cons. Never once did I think that my delivery itself was part of the argument, that my rhetoric was just as influential as my facts.

 I didn’t care about the technicalities of argument. I didn’t care about the impact of pathos, logos, and ethos in real life situations. It was fascinating to discover that they’re all around us all the time. Reading Heinrichs was tedious for me at times because even though he made it relatable, I still couldn’t get engaged. This class was good nevertheless because it kept me writing when I didn’t want to and often times I resented the fact. As a writer and an author, I needed that push. This can now be used in my books, because my communication can be stronger.

 The concept of rhetoric is still somewhat lost on me, just because it encompasses so much. I would not say that I’m an expert, nor that I could effectively explain it to someone new. It’s still confusing for me, but this class has offered a little clarity. Assigning a weekly riff and response forced me to read for comprehension. I would skim Heinrichs, then have to go back and read it over again because the meaning was lost on me. Because rhetoric is all new to me, it was hard to absorb and apply the information. However, creating a riff and understanding how an author initially wrote their piece turned out to be the key to comprehension for me. This was an incredibly original recurring assignment. You forced us to read for interpretation, and you can’t effectively interpret something that you don’t understand. The riff and response held me accountable for my reading. Without it, I very well may have skipped the readings altogether because being introduced to new topics I haven’t had any prior knowledge about intimidates me, and I just opt out of participating. The riff was easier to produce than the response, for me.

           I learned about syllogism and can decipher it when it happens. I have noticed that people use syllogism incorrectly, more often than not. The most recent one I can remember hearing and identifying was on the premise of who can say the N word and who can’t. Essentially, the argument was: Black people are people of color. People of color say the N word. Mexicans are not black, but they are still people of color, therefore they can say the N word. People were using this syllogism to defend their right to say a word that didn’t pertain to them. I’ve also been noticing fallacies since being exposed to the different types.

Since discovering the intricacies of rhetoric, I have subconsciously been noticing and labeling certain moves as such. I’ve been decoding people’s decorum and spotting disingenuous advances. I’ve seen it a lot at work with my managers, the difference between their interactions with the customers at Target and their interactions in the break room. I can identify more deadly fallacies when I speak to people. The main ones my counterparts fall victim to are tautology, slippery slope, and the red herring. They love to change the subject. I’ve seen all of the Aristotelian appeals in play at work as a cashier, ranging from children using logos to get a toy, parents using ethos to justify their refusal to buy said toy, older adults using pathos to get a discount, people using Kairos to justify their splurging (“It’s on sale!”).  I’ve noticed code grooming a lot too, especially within mixed racial crowds. White people’s decorum shifts when in a predominantly black environment, they begin code grooming. Those are the few from Heinrichs that have stayed with me, those that I can readily identify. Without this class, those behaviors would not be blanketed by any academic terms. The child would be whining, the parent would be annoyed, the old people would be trying to mooch, and the splurgers would be irresponsible. My managers would’ve just been fake, just as the mixed crowds. I’m glad that I can pinpoint all of this as forms of rhetoric, even though they are not the conventional argument we automatically think of. Being in this class and reading these books give me a stronger sense of interpretation as I go through the world. It’s one of the more valuable things I’ll take from any class since I’ve been in college.

As far as my e-Portfolio is concerned, it is not ideally what I wanted. When I was first assigned this project, I was excited because I got to create a blog regarding something personal to me. I had already been using tumblr for most of my teenage years, so I thought it would be easy enough. My use of tumblr consisted of me, mostly reblogging relevant pictures and quotes. I’d never focused on the posting and the organization of it all. That was a more daunting task than I’d expected. My gifs did not post accordingly, in the grids I’d always seen them. They took up way too much space and required too much navigation. Originally, I had the vision of having my gifs with explanations and analyses beneath them, but the reflection wouldn’t allow me to do that effectively. I also didn’t have the tabs that I thought I would. Everything is just straightforward and narrow. I thought it would be more exciting, but the material was more important that the aesthetics of it all, so I left it alone.

[unholy-fabray]

Butch-ifying every female character on Glee

Step 1: Brittana

@warblercore brought up the sad fact that there are zero (ZERO!!) butches on Glee, and I think that needs to be fixed...

...starting with Brittany and Santana!

[unholy-fabray]

Next up on the Glee Butch Project: Rachel!

She's pissed she didn't get the lead in the school play.

(I'll redraw this digitally when I get back home, but I couldn't help but sketch this out rq)

[unholy-fabray]

Quinn goes through several major style changes over the course of the show and I'm having trouble deciding what style to give her. For context, here's the first two sketches showing butch-ified Brittany, Santana, Tina, and Mercedes.

[unholy-fabray]

This is technically Monday when I'm posting this, but still wanted to share! Thanks to the great @hevanderson for tagging me 🫶

It's been a very busy week with school so no digital art to share atm, but have these sketches I made on my class notes:

Top three: Quinn + Rachel, Tina, and Kurt headshots. I swear I've seen a similar Tina drawing before, but can't remember where?? idk, the mental image wouldn't leave my brain so 🤷🤷 if anybody recognizes the posing, let me know!