#an ode to queer joy
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AN ODE TO QUEER JOY
Part 2 : Joy in our partner(s) (Queer love)
unknown / @maraleestuff / jane the virgin : petra receives a message from her girlfriend. gif by @damnthosewords / @tattoosshouldbesubsidized / unknown / queeringthemap, anonymous in vietnam / unknown / @thehappyegg / one day at a time : elena gives a valentine card to her non-binary partner. gif by @agenderraypalmer
#part 3 tomorrow :)#2/3#web weaving#queer#queer joy#queer love#wlw#mlm#gay#lesbian#bisexual#poly#polyam#trans#nb#old queers#vintage queers#an ode to queer joy
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TED LASSO 3.09 THOUGHTS
saw someone who got a screener say it was the best episode of the season and perhaps the best episode of the series and like… I AGREE VEHEMENTLY. THAT WAS AMAZINGGGGGGG
funniest line of the whole episode hands down was roy saying “all of you know my ass is not hairy but not one of you spoke up. and I will never forgive you.” like TELL ME WHY THEY TOOK IT SO SERIOUS LMFAOOOOO
this whole episode made my little queer heart burst with joy for my best gay welsh boy colin hughes!!! and trent being the proud mentor watching the whole team embrace colin and watching ted have the most beautiful response of saying they DO care and to celebrate this part of colin’s identity AHH I LOVE THIS FOUND FAMILY MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF
call your friends and let them know: ROY. KENT. IS BACK. he is baaaaaack bitches! the roy we know and love is working his way back! his press monologue was so good and it shows the kind of integrity and kindness he can have
speaking of roy: rebecca’s harangue calling out roy? OUTSTANDING. it was so warranted but you can tell it came from a place of love by that very earnest look she gave him at the end (mostly love for keeley, but out of love and respect for roy too in my opinion)
she also wants roykeeley back like the rest of us y’all trust 🙏🏻
ok but BI JAMIE LOWKEY CONFIRMED???
and in the same episode where I… admittedly… loved the vibes between jamie and sam… like it gave enemies/rivals to lovers the way sam flipped him off when he wanted to be captain and jamie cut him off in his speech and they just laughed about it like ooh their friendship is so good we love the growth but also… that was flirting tell me I’m wrong
this episode felt like an ode to isaac and colin’s friendship. it felt like the journey isaac needed to decide that like “yes. okay. I’m your protector now. I’m sorry I didn’t see this before. I’m sorry you felt you had to keep this from me. but no more.” and sure he’s still very much A Straight Man™️ about it, but he’s willing to unravel and to deconstruct that in order to be the best friend his best friend deserves. my heart. 🥹
NATE MADE A GOOD DECISION AND DITCHED RUPERT YESSSS BABY STEPS. Rupert’s really going for the isolation manipulation tactic like he is truly scum of the earth I want to smash his face in. but JADE IS DOING NATE SOOO MUCH GOOD like he’s finally got a support system that he doesn’t feel codependent on and also doesn’t need to share with a whole team, so he can feel more secure in who he is now!!
FINAL SCORE IS 10/10 I LOVED IT AND IT WAS SO GOOD my only complaint is that there are only 3 episodes left and it doesn’t feel like it but eh wtvr
#abby liveblogs#ted lasso spoilers#ted lasso#colin hughes#jamie tartt#isaac mcadoo#roy kent#rebecca welton
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Did you know that I write a lot about memory, skunks, uploading consciousness, political maneuvering, skunks, aliens, skunks, queerness, identity, emotions, and skunks? It's true! I'm very proud of them. You can read books best described as
Given the chance to live forever in a world not built for death, what do you do?
Given the inability to forget—all your joys and sorrows, all your foundational memories and traumas—how do you cope?
Given the ability to create a full copy of yourself—down to every single one of those memories—to do as they will, to individuate and live out their own forever lives, or merge back down and meld their memories with your own, what paths do you take?
and
If I had a nickel for every time I accidentally wrote something with heavy plural undertones that I hadn't intended but nonetheless made me doubt my identity, I'd have two nickels! Which isn't a lot, but it is weird that it happened twice.
The Post-Self Cycle is a tetralogy of meta-furry¹, gender-weird sci-fi books. From the very beginning of the consensual dream of the System, the members of the Ode clade, all forks from the same core personality, have dealt with fear each in their own way. Do they search for greater ways to control their lives? Do they hunt for yet deeper emotional connection? Do they hone their art to the finest point?
From roots in political turmoil to the building of a new society, the story is there to be found, and the Bălan clade is there to tell it.
Digital versions come with illustrations from five artists — Iris Jay, Jade Laclede, Floe, CadmiumTea, and johnny a.
Available as paperbacks, ebooks, and free to read in the browser. Omnibus ebook and illustrated hardcovers coming soon!
Book I — Qoheleth
"All artists search. I search for stories, in this post-self age. What happens when you can no longer call yourself an individual, when you have split your sense of self among several instances? How do you react? Do you withdraw into yourself, become a hermit? Do you expand until you lose all sense of identity? Do you fragment? Do you go about it deliberately, or do you let nature and chance take their course?"
With immersive technology at its peak, it's all too easy to get lost. When RJ loses emself in that virtual world, not only must ey find eir way out, but find all the answers ey can along the way.
And, nearly a century on, society still struggles with the ramifications of those answers.
Features the bonus novella Gallery Exhibition: A Love Story.
Madison finds a way to address not only the joys and terrors of integrated simulation technology, but also tackles questions of gender and identity while telling a pretty gripping mystery story in the process.
— Nenekiri Bookwyrm
Book II — Toledot
"I am saying that you trust me — really trust me — and that life in the System is more subtle than I think you know. You let me into your dreams, my dear, and your dreams influence this place as much as, if not more than, your waking mind."
No longer bound to the physical, what lengths should one go to in a virtual world to ensure the continuity of one's existence?
Secession. Launch. Two separations from two societies, two hundred years apart. And through it all, so many parallels run on so many levels that it can be dizzying just keeping up. The more Ioan and Codrin Bălan learn, the more it calls into question the motivations of even those they hold most dear.
Madison Scott-Clary . . . trusts her readers to be able to understand a completely different culture and existence than our own, and makes it compelling to do so.
— Payson R. Harris
Book III — Nevi'im
"Do you know how old I am, Dr. Brahe? I am 222 years old, a fork of an individual who is...who would be 259 years old. I am no longer the True Name of 2124. Even remembering her feels like remembering an old friend. I remember her perfectly, and yet I do not remember how to be earnest. I do not know how to simply be."
The cracks are showing.
Someone picked up on the broadcast from the Dreamer Module and as the powers that be rush to organize a meeting between races, Dr. Tycho Brahe is caught up in a whirlwind of activity. And as always, when the drama goes down, there is Codrin Bălan to witness it.
When faced with eternity in a new kind of digital world, however, old traumas come to roost, and those who were once powerful are brought to their knees
Growth is colliding with memory, and the cracks are showing.
These characters are so well realized, so fleshed out, that I can’t help but to gush about how their interactions with each other inform the central plot of the book.
— Nenekiri Bookwyrm
Book IV — Mitzvot
"To be built to love is to be built to dissolve. It is to be built to unbecome. It is to have the sole purpose of falling apart all in the name of someone else."
Even the grandest of stories can feel small and immediate when it's just one person's life.
One of the most well-known names from one of the most well-known clades on the System, the avatar of political machinations and cool confidence, has been brought low. With help coming only from Ioan Bălan and the most grudging of support from her cocladists, all True Name has left to save herself is the ability to change.
Features the bonus novella Selected Letters.
Mitzvot drills down deeper into the lives of its characters and shows us that between the world-shattering projects that change the very understanding of the System, they’re just people trying to live their lives with love and purpose.
— Nenekiri Bookwyrm
Keep an eye out for Clade, an anthology of short stories from nine authors set in the universe, coming later this year.
----------
¹ That is, about members of the furry subculture rather than just furry characters.
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you increasingly seem like you're trying to make a marketable brand out of our faith to sell things. stop.
Jewitches began in 2020 as a single person creating & sharing educational materials on Jewish magic, folk practices, etc. The demand & reception was overwhelming & intense. The thirst for knowledge is vast & we are just one of many wellsprings attempting to provide some relief. If you don’t align with our manner of creating content, there are others who may suit you better & we encourage you to seek them out.
We create & share resources entirely for free—always have, always will. Content put behind a paywall is entirely optional (for example, early access to blogs that will be public days later). Both our blog & podcast are fully sourced; as are our infographics. We create videos for multiple platforms, create content on multiple platforms (including, but not limited to creating imagery of Jewish ritual & practice in the modern era), consult, answer emails, direct messages, sensitivity readings, & so much more.
But it is impossible to do that without funding.
The books, papers, & academic resources we use & cite are expensive; not to mention that the time combing through them is expensive, as is the time required to actually consolidate & write about it all. And we do this without grants provided by large organizations or businesses.
Creating resources takes time & energy & both of those things come at quite a cost.
In order to be able to full realize the Jewitches dream, we created something that we always wished existed: a space where you could find things catered specifically to Jewish spirituality because it felt like such a place didn’t exist in the way we, & so many others, were seeking it. We make & sell specifically Jewish items, including but not limited to ritual kits for those wanting to connect with Jewish spirituality, Jewish digital prints, digital guides, Jewish embroidery, Jewish jewelry (made in house & created by Jewish artisans), Havdalah candles, candles with Jewish fragrances & stickers that align with Jewish & queer Joy.
The shop serves a dual purpose: we could create support the work we were already doing and we were able to create a place for our art and products to exist. In a perfect world, our shop wouldn’t have to exist: the things we create could be shared without the need for a monetary exchange. We wouldn’t need to have it to fund the work that we do. But this is the world we live in. We love the work we do but we also deserve to be paid for it.
If you’re not interested in purchasing anything from our shop; no one is forcing you to do so. But making & selling Jewish-specific items to cater to those of us who wish to see these things exist does not mean we are “making a marketable brand out of our faith”.
On the comment of making Judaism “marketable” —We have always been exceptionally & extraordinarily clear: Judaism does not proselytize. We have no interest in “marketing” Judaism to anyone.
Our work stems from our love of Judaism & the magic within it. The imagery we share on this platform is an ode to Judaism, magic, Diaspora, the many cultures that Jews exist within & the world at large. At a quick glance from February's posts, we have roughly 10 shop posts (images) versus 25 educational posts (links, graphics, but not including reblogs of other people's blogs or photos, etc).
If our page is not something that brings you peace, joy, education, & wonder, we encourage you to prioritize yourself.
If you would like to see us be able to create the educational content that you enjoy, but don’t want to see us promote the shop, feel free to donate via Kofi or BuyMeACoffee.
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Nonbinary actor Elliot Page is publishing a new book, "Pageboy: A Memoir" to be released in June!
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""Can I kiss you?” It was two months before the world premiere of Juno, and Elliot Page was in his first ever queer bar. The hot summer air hung heavy around him as he looked at her. And then it happened. In front of everyone. A previously unfathomable experience. Here he was on the precipice of discovering himself as a queer person, as a trans person. Getting closer to his desires, his dreams, himself, without the repression he’d carried for so long. But for Elliot, two steps forward had always come with one step back.
With Juno’s massive success, Elliot became one of the world’s most beloved actors. His dreams were coming true, but the pressure to perform suffocated him. He was forced to play the part of the glossy young starlet, a role that made his skin crawl, on and off set. The career that had been an escape out of his reality and into a world of imagination was suddenly a nightmare.
As he navigated criticism and abuse from some of the most powerful people in Hollywood, a past that snapped at his heels, and a society dead set on forcing him into a binary, Elliot often stayed silent, unsure of what to do, until enough was enough. Full of behind the scenes details and intimate interrogations on sex, love, trauma, and Hollywood, Pageboy is the story of a life pushed to the brink. But at its core, this beautifully written, winding journey of what it means to untangle ourselves from the expectations of others is an ode to stepping into who we truly are with defiance, strength, and joy."
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Sitp Essentials - Fandomversary Edition: Writcraft
June marks the 12th (!!!) fandomversary of this incredibly talented and generous author, whose work has brought me so much joy and healing over the years. What an accomplishment, my friend! I know I’m not only speaking for myself when I say that we are so very grateful for your presence and immense contributions to the HP fandom. I’m a bit wary of taking on long-term projects these days but I really wanted to do something to celebrate this milestone so I’ve decided that, during the month of June (and there was no better month to celebrate in! 🏳️🌈) I’ll be posting single recs for 12 of my favourite fics by @writcraft. Some are older recs, written in the blog’s early days, some are brand new, highlighting rare pairs, hidden gems and recent works. I won’t have a rigid schedule because I don’t wanna set myself up for failure so the rec posts will be a surprise even for me 🤣 I hope you guys enjoy them just as much!
Anyone who knows me well is aware that I’m very shy around my fandom heroes and will rarely initiate any kind of conversation with them. I was so anxious about being perceived that I wouldn't even tag them when I created the blog. Writ holds even more power in my imaginary fandom altar because they’ve written one of my all-time favorite fics. I found Little Compton Street aka the “Life on Mars Love Story Told in 3 Acts” at a difficult time of my life when I was almost leaving fandom for good. But getting to read LCS and to fall in love with those magical London spots and captivating characters was a beautiful transformative experience that altered me completely. This fic not only had a profound impact on my ever changing self-awareness as a queer person, it checked my many fic reading boxes, and pulled at my heartstrings in all the right ways. I've learned so much from LCS; it is an ode to queer history, a love letter to all of those who came and fought before us, and to all of those who were killed, erased and forgotten in the process. It is is a story filled with hope and a compassionate reminder urging us to always resist, and never forget.
*at a loss of words*
(…)
As you can see, I always get immersed in my feels when I think about LCS and I know it will always have a special place in my heart. This feeling of profound gratitude and joy for Writ’s formative works is what inspired me to do this humble homage. Am I a bit nervous about not having enough fuel to see this through? Hell yes. But I’m opening myself to the possibility of failure because I know this is for someone who’s unfailingly kind and compassionate. Writ, I admire you deeply as a writer and even more so as a person. Your contributions to the HP fandom through fics, fests and meta over the years have been immense, and I know your RL contributions to the queer community and its memory have been just as impactful. Happy 12th Fandomversary, my friend! For someone who’s been reading your words since 2012, it feels incredibly special to finally get to share this space with you. 🏳️🌈💜
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eye of the beholder
แฟนผมเป็นประธานนักเรียน | My School President fanfiction
Tinn Tinnaphob Jirawatthanakul/Gun Guntaphon Wongwitthaya
8k words
Rated M for sexual content
Crossdressing Tinn
An ode to queerness, beauty, freedom, truth and first love
For @silverquillsideas ❤ Happy birthday, beloved
Read on AO3
Gun thinks he misheard at first. Suddenly everything around him is too loud, both the sound coming from the speakers around the massive hall and the sound coming from those surrounding him. It’s Tinn that grounds him to the present; his hands on Gun’s neck and his lips covering his face with kisses.
He can only hear Tinn’s giggles because they share no space between them. He sees the joy reflected on Tinn’s face, radiant and honest and full of admiration and love. There’s no one Gun can read better than him, and among all the people that Gun has known and loved all these years, there’s no one whose thoughts and feelings are as transparent to him as Tinn’s. He feels like a winner for that smile alone, for the pride that Tinn so easily carries for him. He loves him so much. But he can only look at Tinn for a few beats, before his bandmates are pushing him off his seat and towards the stage.
“Um,” Gun starts at the microphone, but for the first time in many years, he’s at a loss for words. There are so many people he knows in the audience, and so many other people that he has only heard of, but doesn’t know personally. All the other artists in the category are also there, looking at him, waiting for his speech.
Desperate for an anchor, Gun searches the crowd until he finds Tinn. He’s smiling broadly, his beautiful teeth in full view, unlike the shy smiles so characteristic of him that Gun can see even with his eyes closed. The one dangling earring he’s wearing catches the stage lights in the single gem that balances at the end of the thin, gold chain that tickles down to his neck. His hair is tousled to the side unlike his usual style, and he fits right in with the artists in the room, charming and expensive. He’s mouthing something that seems like “Speak,” but Gun can only look at him, trophy in hand.
Gun thinks he might do something embarrassing like cry. Sound has an arm around his shoulders before that emotion is realized, and he’s lightly pushing Gun aside to talk into the mic and start their thank you speech.
Gun gazes back into the audience, his eyes naturally falling back on Tinn, as if magnetized.
He tries to think of who he wants to thank, of how to put his whole trajectory into just a few precious seconds without forgetting a single thing, but his whole mind is an ecstatic blank.
***
Singing had always been a passion, yes. Inherited, like the best of passions, the type that lasts longer than a teenage dream. Passion enough to make him ditch university when he started getting more gigs, and enough to last several changes in the lineup of his band. “I’m sorry, Gun,” so many of his friends had said before leaving to pursue more regular, tangible dreams. Some of them didn’t even apologize, but those weren’t his friends. Sound stayed, though. Despite his dreams being bigger than the stage Gun could provide him, Sound stayed.
And that’s how, on one night that had everything to go wrong, Gun met Tinn. Because Tinn wouldn’t have been there if it hadn’t been for Sound, and Tinn wouldn’t have gone to Gun if Gun wasn’t a massive fucking idiot.
Who trips over their own equipment? Who sprains their ankle on the way down a stage?
Sound had already been drilling him about how little sleep he got every night, and the incident would make him no kinder. If he somehow had broken his neck on that fall, Sound would probably have looked for a way to resuscitate him just so he could kill him again. Gun was doing his best, but between anxiety, fatigue, too much caffeine and post-performance buzz, it was only a matter of time before something stupid happened. And like a self-fulfilling prophecy, it did. But then there was also —
In the middle of his embarrassing incident and cries, there was Tinn running up to him, all nerdy glasses and ironed clothes with angular patterns, saying, “Let me see, I’m a doctor.”
Sound had helped Gun sit down on the steps down the side of the stage and stood hovering around like an overbearing mother. Gun didn’t know where the rest of the band was, but given the bad mood they were in all evening, he wouldn’t be surprised if they had left altogether. Tinn was probably the first person Gun ever saw Sound look relieved upon seeing.
Tinn removed Gun’s right shoe delicately, and then his sock. His hands were cold but kind, moving Gun’s foot from one side to the other. He looked up when Gun made a pained sound, and that’s when Gun took a proper look at him. He didn’t think Tinn fit very well in that bar. He seemed too... neat for it.
“It doesn’t appear to be broken, but it’d be better to take an x-ray,” Tinn said then.
“But what if it’s broken?” Sound said, hand on Tinn’s shoulder. “It could be broken, right?”
“Nothing’s broken, I can stand just fi— ah!”
It’s interesting how memory works. More than the first touch between them — Tinn’s grip on his arms, keeping him from falling ungracefully back down — what comes to Gun every time he thinks about that moment is Tinn’s scent. Something floral, fresh but not extravagant, that Gun had never smelled before. The girlfriends he had had before had always smelled too sweet, and his bandmates all smelled identical, possibly the same brand of cologne.
Caught between pain and a boy who smelled really good, Gun’s mind was white noise. He looked up at Tinn but Tinn was looking at Sound.
“Help me take him to my car,” Tinn said, and Gun frowned, protested, but Sound sounded remarkably like Gun’s mother when he was nervous, so it was a battle lost before it even began.
Minutes into a car ride with Tinn, Gun said, “I’m sorry.”
“Hmm? What for?” Tinn asked him, while slowing down to a stop at a red light.
“For ruining your night. It’s still early but instead of enjoying your Friday night, you have to take the band’s stupid singer to the hospital.”
Tinn gave him a pretty smile and shook his head.
“I was only there for your band anyway. Sound invited me, I’m— Oh I’m sorry, I never introduced myself, did I?” He grimaced, and Gun couldn’t look away from all of Tinn’s little expressions that he could catch with the city night lights. “My name’s Tinn. I’m a friend of Sound’s.”
“Sound has friends?” Gun quipped, partly genuinely impressed and partly to see if it would make Tinn laugh. It did.
“I’m the only one, I’m afraid.”
“Sound has a doctor friend.”
“We go back to a time when I hadn’t made such big life decisions and he was a little cuter.”
“Must be before I met him then.”
They both laughed at that, the car shifting back into gear as the light turned green. Gun’s phone rang with the ringtone he set just for Sound, as if he could hear them. He picked it up and sent Sound short replies, quickly ending the call, and then muted his phone. He didn’t want to get stuck in a back-and-forth with Sound and get himself motionsick, but mostly, he wanted to focus on Tinn.
“I’m Gun,” he said after putting his phone down on his lap.
Tinn smiled before he said, “I know,” and Gun didn’t know why it made him feel shy. Gun was the leader and singer of the band Tinn had come to watch, and Tinn was friends with Sound, so it was only natural that he’d know who Gun was. Plus, Gun had been singing for many years at that point, so he had already met people who recognized him before. He could look at so many different people every day and not see them, but he was seen. Perhaps he even meant something to them, which was something he dreamed of.
But something about the way Tinn said it — confident and a little proud — made Gun pause. He wouldn’t really be able to put into words why.
Gun’s mother always said he was perpetually stuck at five years old when he got sick, and injured Gun wasn’t much different. He would have preferred to cling to Tinn as they entered the hospital so he could smell his perfume again — a normal thing to do to a guy you just met — but Tinn got him a wheelchair. Maybe Gun did pout about it, or maybe something else showed on his face as the wheelchair gave him an unpleasant, queasy feeling, because Tinn crouched beside him and said, “Don’t worry. I won’t be your doctor but I’ll stay here, okay?”
The LED streetlights cast Tinn in much clearer light than the neon lights at the bar and the partial darkness inside his car. Now that he didn’t have to move, that he was being so kindly gazed at, he could look at Tinn. At his dark hair styled away from his face save for a few strands falling near his left eye; the beauty mark under said eye; the touch of pink dusted high on his cheeks; and the sheer gloss over his lips when he smiled at Gun.
Why the fuck did Sound never introduce Tinn before?
***
“Ow, fuck, stop pinching me, Gun!”
Sound deserved it, even if he did help Gun into his apartment after Tinn dropped him off, and even after he helped Gun shower and dress back up. He rolled his eyes when Gun still glared at him from the comfortable bundle he made under his bed covers.
“Look, Gun, Tinn is— It’s annoying, okay!”
“What is? He is?” Gun frowned, having seen exactly zero things annoying about Tinn.
“No— well, yes, he can be, I just mean—” He huffed and Gun raised a perfectly skeptical eyebrow at him. “Look, Tinn was very quiet in middle school, and then in high school it was like— everyone wanted to talk to him, to whisper about him and get his attention. They’d leave him letters in his notebooks and backpack.”
“So you’re saying he’s too hot.”
“I’m saying he doesn’t like it,” Sound said, rummaging through Gun’s wardrobe for worn-out pieces he could wear. “Having all that attention, I mean. He ran for school president so it’d look good on his curriculum and he had girls following him home. And guys.”
“Oh.”
Gun liked attention, but he wouldn’t like anyone following him home.
“Yeah. So he doesn’t get out much. I’m taking this, by the way.”
“So how did you get him to come to the bar tonight?”
Gun picked at his cuticles on his left hand, curious as to why the question made Sound pause.
“He asked to come,” he said. He held Gun’s gaze for a few seconds before finally leaving with a, “I’m going to shower, good night.”
***
It turned out that Tinn, who didn’t like attention but wanted to watch Gun’s band play, was not so bad at texting. A few exchanged messages with Gun asking about his condition and then offering to accompany him to the hospital for another check-up turned into whole conversations, which led Gun to see him again.
“I can’t believe you just want me for my body,” Gun joked out when Tinn inspected his ankle himself, even though Gun had told him he was feeling much better and didn’t need another trip to the hospital.
Tinn’s response was a much more amused smile than Gun had expected, but Tinn couldn’t maintain eye contact without blushing.
“It was the music, at first, but I didn’t think you’d fall for me so easily.”
Gun could never really anticipate Tinn’s responses, it seemed. Sound had led him to believe that Tinn was just a shy nerd, but he was the one who initiated contact and kept it going. By all means his flirting was silly, but still Gun couldn’t help letting out a startled laugh, louder than he had anticipated, and it, coupled with Tinn kneeling before him in a simple neighborhood café, rendered them more than a few stares. He paid it absolutely no mind when he had Tinn at ease around him. Perhaps because he hadn’t met anyone new in a while, or perhaps because Tinn was so naturally charming, but he found that Tinn was a company that he wanted to keep.
He also wanted to kiss him senseless.
“Why didn’t you tell me Tinn was so cute?” he’d ask Sound.
“Don’t say that shit to me,” Sound would reply, making sure to increase the volume in his headphones, loud enough for Gun to hear, which could not be healthy but Gun valued his life enough not to comment on it.
And Gun did know Sound since he graduated high school and formed his first fraught band. Though Sound still had odd acting jobs during the day, he still met Gun for band practice during most of his evenings and he took every opportunity seriously. He wasn’t afraid of talking Gun out of slumps, because their drive to carry on, despite their difficulties, matched like letters in a scrabble board. Years passed, Sound stayed, they knew the code to each other’s homes, and still it took so long for Gun to meet Tinn.
Not that he blamed Sound for being as reserved as he was. Sound had plenty of colleagues, all with his modeling, acting and singing careers, but he didn’t have many friends. If Gun himself was a reference for Sound’s friendships, then they would be steadfast and loyal to him and Sound to them. Of all people Gun knew, who’d lie to please him or simply take him for an idiot, Sound was the one no-nonsense bastard he trusted above all. However, the longer he spent with Tinn, the more Gun wished he had met him sooner.
Midnight walks with him weren’t boring or awkward, but rather occupied with the serene sound of footsteps and unimportant questions such as, “Did you have a pet as a child?” or “What’s your favorite childhood memory?” or even “What place would you like to visit?” They would walk side by side, shoulders brushing occasionally, fingers drawing close to each other like magnets eager to find their opposite. Gun would talk about obscure Japanese bands, Tinn would talk about dishes he wanted to try, and though they both needed to rest before long days, neither wanted to admit the night had to end.
Did kisses before Tinn taste as sweet? Gun remembered liking a girl in the student council back in high school, and he remembered writing music about her, of the way she could make a rainy day sunny when she walked into the room, of the lighter color in the tips of her hair, and the freckles that looked hand-painted on her cheeks. He more or less remembered his first kiss, because he was nervous, afraid of going at it wrong and becoming a joke in someone’s story.
And yet, the story of his first kiss with Tinn was a funny one.
Tinn had been sick at the time. A yearly cold, he had said, looking every bit like a soaked dog, miserable and sad and with eyes that begged you to pick him up. “Leave, Gun,” he told Gun from his sullen spot on the couch when Gun entered his apartment.
“You know how I am with authority, Tinn,” Gun said, taking the containers of food he had brought to the kitchen to arrange them in Tinn’s perfectly matching kitchenware.
“I’m serious, Gun.” Tinn’s voice from the living room barely carried over. “You know you can’t get sick.”
“You know my mom used to be annoyed at how I never got sick?” Gun said as he walked back into the living room, and Tinn looked at him every bit like he was an idiot. Gun was immune to it. “No, I mean, like, she would get sick and have to stay in bed and I’d man the shop and wouldn’t even get a runny nose. I’d wake her up to give her her meds and she’d call me a butt.”
Tinn cracked a laugh at that, which instantly turned into a coughing fit. Gun rushed to get him some water, which he took, looking deflated and flushed and extraordinarily adorable.
That was precisely why Gun leaned in to peck him on the cheek. Tinn, for his part, sick and probably not even especially aware of his surroundings, turned to talk to him, and the kiss landed on his lips instead, just like in a scene from a drama. Gun was surprised and Tinn was a little scandalized, trying to lean back from him and actually making whiny sounds in his throat, which was honestly a bit too much, so the only thing Gun could do was cup his face with both hands and lean for a kiss he actually meant.
It was brief and unromantic. Tinn’s face was hotter than usual, not in the pleasant way, and he was supposed to lean into it, which he wasn’t keen on, but still — still his lips were plush and soft against Gun’s, moving ever so tentatively as if it were a first kiss. Gun didn’t know if it was Tinn’s first kiss, and he wasn’t going to ask Tinn, because he didn’t want to know and it didn’t matter. He could ask him later if he had dated anyone before, or kissed, or slept with anyone, but those were faraway thoughts to Gun. There were only Tinn’s warm hands resting on his chest, his hair tickling Gun’s cheek, and his sticky, sweet lips.
When Gun broke the kiss, he licked his lips and touched them with the tip of his fingers. Tinn seemed to flush darker.
“M-My lips were chapped, I just—”
“Strawberry?”
Gun gave him a quick peck again and Tinn did a little jump in his seat. Gun wanted to eat him.
“I like it,” he said. Before Gun could kiss him without warning again, Tinn pushed him away and picked up his bowl of Tom Kha Gai, mumbling something unflattering about the guy he had just kissed.
But despite how much of an idiot Gun was that night, despite the nasty cold he got afterwards, despite Tinn’s whining about how their first kiss was supposed to be different and under the stars or something equally sappy and planned down to the phase of the moon, he always seemed to wear the strawberry lip-gloss after that. Like his perfume, Gun found himself developing a strong preference for it. He liked how it matched Tinn’s words and gestures, so caring and sweet. The scent of gardenias, as he learned was the predominant fragrance of his perfume, soothed Gun’s insomniac nights, filled his lungs as Tinn leaned over him, his strawberry lips leaving trails down his neck and chest, before Gun demanded to taste them again.
All the intricacies of Tinn delighted Gun. His straight posture and pristine white coat; the tilt of his head when he was noting something down. If Gun stayed out of town for a few days, he liked visiting Tinn at his clinic upon his return, completely unannounced, just to see his benevolent doctor smile turn into the Tinn smile that Gun liked to see directed at him, pretty like a star on a summer night.
No one seemed to notice but Gun, why was that? Gun could recognize Tinn from the back just by the way he walked, elegant and poised but not aloof, not putting on airs. There was the way he would have to bend to hold Gun, and the look in his eyes when Gun looked at him from above, from his stage, the two of them pretending there was only them under the stage lights; or when Tinn was on his knees, between Gun’s legs in the living room of his blue apartment, the lamp casting shadows on his red cheeks, his red lips. No pretense in his eyes, in his fingers that closed around Gun’s wrists and brought them down to kiss his pulse there, leaving heart-shaped lipstick marks there.
Tall and reliable, timid and shy, eager and passionate, all so easily given. Was Tinn just like this, terribly and achingly open, or was Gun just so damn lucky?
***
Gun was standing in front of his mirror, eye pencils and powder puffs on the bed close to him, wondering if he should attempt a rocker look for his next performance, when Tinn walked in.
“Dinner’s ready,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. Gun’s chest filled with countless emotions upon catching Tinn gaze in the reflection. Years of sharing dorms with people he could barely call acquaintance or sleeping by himself, and now his moments between events were graced with homemade food again. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking about being a rock star,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, just to make Tinn laugh.
“You’re already a rock star though?”
“I’m thinking of early 00’s rock star,” he said, waving an eye pencil at Tinn, and Tinn hummed.
“Let’s see,” he said, moving towards Gun, sitting on the bed and motioning for Gun to sit with him.
Gun had noticed light make-up on Tinn before. Not just the healthy red of his lips, but a hint of brown eye shadow when they went out, his well-defined eyebrows and the thin outline of his eyes. Tinn’s hand held the pencil like a fine surgical instrument, firm and precise, with just the right amount of pressure. Gun liked his breath fanning on his face, and opening his eyes to Tinn’s focused expression. He was ruined for any future make-up artist. He should just snatch Tinn away and take him on every tour, his patients be damned.
“Where did you learn this?” Gun asked, his hands comfortable on Tinn’s knees.
“My mother taught me,” he said.
Gun hummed and closed his eyes, feeling like a flower basking under the sun of Tinn’s attention.
“What else did you learn from her?”
He felt Tinn’s huff on his face, and it made him smile.
“How to debate,” he said, and Gun grinned.
“Is that so? Why do you always lose arguments against me then?”
Like when he said he wanted to see Tinn, and Tinn would apologize, tell him he couldn’t make it, but he showed up late anyway.
“You have very strong arguments.”
“Can I call my old class president so you can tell him that? It’ll be just a minute—”
Tinn tapped him gently on the shoulder and Gun opened his eyes to see him giggle and shake his head. He wanted to kiss Tinn then, but he was reaching for the lip tint, and Gun held off.
“My mom should get along well with you,” he said. Gun looked at him in a way that seemed to amuse him. “It’s true. She’s strict but she loves authenticity. I... There were some things in high school that made her really sensitive to lies.”
Gun’s grip on the fabric of Tinn’s pants tightened slightly, and he scooched closer.
“You’re... wholly you, though,” Tinn finished, hesitant, as if unsure his words truly conveyed everything he was thinking.
It was funny. That was the one thing Gun would always think about Tinn.
For his gig, he did wear eyeliner, and Tinn’s red lip tint, and a red jacket tied around his waist. His sleeveless shirt showed off his arms, and there was glitter in his hair and rings on his fingers. Tinn was there, looking up at him in a way that reminisced of their first meeting, but Gun was more aware now. He could see the awe in Tinn’s eyes, the slight parting of his lips, and Gun would sing the bridge on one knee, looking straight at him. The whole concert house sang along to his song, and that should thrill him, but it was Tinn, legs crossed, eyes barely blinking, that gave him energy to sing himself almost hoarse.
“Tinn used to get bullied,” was a confession Sound made not many days later, after one too many of Gun’s inquiries. “I told you he got too much attention.”
“What? Wasn’t he—”
“He never told his mom.” Sound wouldn’t look him in the eye, but he could see the anger set in his jaw. “And it was never physically violent, not too many people knew about it, it was just... Mean.”
Mean.
Tinn would squirm when Gun touched his sides while they kissed, so Gun would do it all the time. He would break into giggles, and Gun would kiss his neck and cling to him as he tickled him more and Tinn would laugh and say his name breathlessly. He preferred to make love to him face to face, so he wouldn’t miss the way Tinn looked at him, open and direct and a bit unbelieving, his hand firmly gripped in Gun’s, mouth opening but he was never loud. When they finished, he liked to lay still for a bit, still connected, his breath in sync with Gun’s, and his hands, tired and awed, traced the lines of Gun’s face, the fast beating of his pulse on his neck, before he pulled Gun down for a new kiss, one that lingered, like a blessing and a promise and grace, all at once.
People were mean. To Tinn?
Tinn with messy hair and Gun’s red satin shirt on him, lipstick smeared on his lips and cheeks and neck, sleepy but not asleep, hands in Gun’s hair as Gun bit a new bruise on his collarbone and his hand moved down to fully awaken him and continue the dance from the night before. Tinn, who looked at him like he could see all of him and wanted him more for it, as if he could reach into him and pull from Gun a lifetime of longing finally fulfilled, as if Gun didn’t understand the meaning of the songs he sang until he talked to Tinn that first night in his car. “I’m a friend of Sound’s.” He had been so close and Gun had never seen him and now Gun didn’t want to look away again.
How could they be mean to him?
Gun didn’t have to ask anything of Tinn. Just like in their early conversations, where they could talk about anything to chase the loneliness away, Gun didn’t have to gather the courage to tell Tinn his worries about recording his first album, or how he missed his mother after going months without seeing her. Tinn could see his tells as clear as day. In return, he tried to take care of Tinn as much as he could. Carrying him to bed when he fell asleep in the living room, reading. Cooking for him, because he so often forgot. Singing to him as he dried his hair, or as he called from two towns over and Tinn had to stay home.
Mean for what? None of the answers he could easily think of could justify it. He knew exactly how teenagers were, he remembered them well. Because he was too smart, too soft-spoken, non-confrontational? Because he was the principal’s son and the school president? For completely arbitrary reasons, for petty reasons, just because?
It was an unremarkable day when he came home and saw Tinn preparing dinner in a dress. It hadn’t been any harder than any other day, and the sun hadn’t set completely, not a cloud in the sky. The skirt was long and pleated, unpatterned, and the cuffs were white, carefully pulled up as to not get in the way of his cooking. The color was just like many of his shirts, a familiar lavender.
Seeing the color pulled Gun from any pause he might have felt. It was Tinn. It was just Tinn, the man he had been living with and whom he had known for so long now. They had shared more than one anniversary. His hair was still the length Gun enjoyed — not too long that it looked unkempt, but long enough that Gun could run his hands through it. Artist-like. When Gun circled his arms around Tinn’s middle and breathed in, he smelled the familiar gardenias, and nothing had changed. Nothing except his heart, falling in love again at being trusted with something new.
“You stink,” Tinn said, but didn’t make any movement to pull away from Gun’s grasp.
“You smell good,” Gun said, knowing Tinn would roll his eyes at him.
“You should shower.”
“Hmm. Five more minutes.”
“Did that ever work with your mom?”
“Yes.”
And it worked with Tinn too.
After dinner, there was no rush to the bedroom. They walked in, hand in hand, and laid in bed, facing each other. Gun let his hand touch the collar of the dress, sharp and long and elegant, down the buttons at the front, and then rested his hand on Tinn’s waist.
“They didn’t like me,” Tinn said, because he knew. He barely saw him talking to Sound, but he knew they talked all the time. “They didn’t like what they saw, but I don’t know what it was.”
“They were fucking stupid.”
“There was a teacher who didn’t like me either.”
He pulled Tinn closer, grip firm. Tinn smoothed a thumb over his frown.
“He didn’t do anything to me.”
“But also didn’t do what he should have done.”
Protect you. Shield you. Support you, when you needed.
“Sound was there. We knew each other for a long time. It wasn’t so bad.”
There was always a reason why Gun liked Sound even though his bandmates kept getting in conflict with him. Perhaps he also saw something that others couldn’t see.
Tinn turned shy, hid his face on his pillow.
“I... had a crush.”
Gun frowned.
“On your teacher?”
He shook his head.
“Someone from a different school.”
Gun tried to tickle him, but Tinn protected his sides. His long skirt spilled on the bed, showing off his legs, and Gun reigned his hands. Tonight, he just wanted to know Tinn. Know what he had missed this whole time.
“Who was it? Was it a girl your mom didn’t approve of? Was it a delinquent boy? Who...”
Tinn turned to look at him again and Gun stopped. He tried to remember which high school Tinn went to, and he recalled... The international school his own school would compete against. The principal had been a beautiful woman with long hair, but Gun couldn’t remember her face. Boys in blue pants and red ties. His music club performed to them during cultural fairs, and he would face them whenever he helped in sports events.
“Tinn,” Gun said, voice weak, unbelieving, “that was over ten years ago.”
Tinn’s hand played with the collar of Gun’s shirt, and for the first time, he was incapable of holding eye contact.
“The music... It didn’t make everything better, but... There was so much honest joy in it, that it made me want to feel it, too.”
Gun understood why Sound seemed so reluctant to allow Tinn to meet new people, and especially himself then. There was in Tinn a desire to be good that surpassed the bad that had been done to him. Or perhaps, now that Gun knew him better, it was in spite of it. When Gun sang, when he looked straight at Tinn, Tinn looked back at him like he was a guiding light. Gun wasn’t, couldn’t believe he was such a thing with all his failures and rejections through the years, but for a few minutes, all those years ago, he meant something to Tinn. Something that carried over, that stuck to his character, that resonated within him. He had always seen Tinn as someone similar to him, incapable of being anything but authentic, and maybe Tinn had seen that, too. Maybe he had drawn from Gun’s love for music that wish to inspire, to be there for others. And if Gun sang for an audience that looked at him the way Tinn did, then who inspired who first, really?
How much could have been dispelled that first night, if they had not been compatible? When Tinn picked him up when he fell, when he looked at Gun out the corner of his eyes in his car, carrying in his lingering gaze a number of words unspoken that Gun felt compelled to hear? Gun was not good at flirting. By every account, Tinn was out of his league. Sound couldn’t have known that it would work. Gun didn’t have a record of keeping relationships, of fighting for them. He didn’t know what he wanted out of them, just some form of — peace. Of delight, like his mother spoke of his father. Something that felt like he didn’t have reinvent himself for, just to please them.
Something like hugging Tinn in the kitchen, eyes closed, listening as he hummed a song Gun didn’t know yet. Tinn helping him with his make-up, unhurried, soft brushes and softer touches. And waking up to his lavender dress, the fabric cool and light as water against Gun as they tangled together, Tinn’s hair on his pillow.
***
Standing on that stage, with a trophy in his hand, his bandmates by his side, all of the words of thanks that Gun can think of are for Tinn, clapping for him from the audience, his earring shining like a tiny fallen star. Gun wears the other earring, matching him. When Sound finishes his speech, Gun takes the microphone, and he says, “Thank you everyone who believed in me when I was just a kid singing at school fairs. Thank you for what you saw in me then, that helped me get here today.”
Gun sees a screen with his face, his smile big and eyes so small, and he laughs when he sees the red lipstick stains on his nose and cheek. It’s too late to wipe them away, so Gun only shakes his head, and waves at Tinn. His band is led off the stage and towards a different spot for pictures and more speeches. He catches sight of Tinn in a dimly lit corner, but it’ll be hours before he can touch him again. They’re winners now. It’s the happiest Gun has ever seen Sound, and the others look happy enough that they might want to stay for a few more years.
When he has time to check his phone, he sees notifications not just from his mother, but also from his old school friends. His first little band of misfits, the ones who believed in him the most. He can’t cry. Not right now.
The night carries on in bright flashes and indistinctive chatter. Gun stays for the after-party, buzzing with an energy that feels a little manic. Every once in a while, he’ll look around to find Tinn, to ground himself. So he knows that at the end of this night, he’ll still be the same man with a home to go back to. Not just Gun, the frontman, but the same Gun that Tinn once met. The one who got grumpy and unsociable when he got writer’s block and couldn’t write a good song. Whom Tinn called “difficult” when he was sick and refused to rest.
“Are you proud of me?” he asks Tinn on the ride home, tipsy, unable to look out the car window without getting sick. He keeps his head on Tinn’s shoulder, Tinn’s arm secure around his waist, and he can only see blurry details of Tinn — the red of his lips, his long bangs framing his face, so close, too close but at the same time, not enough.
“I’m proud of you,” Tinn says, kissing his forehead, and Gun will not cry, not yet, even though he can’t name a single feeling he’s experiencing right now. “I’m always proud of you, Gun.”
“Even when I get mad at you for not replying to my texts?”
“Hmmm.”
“Even when I forget to do the laundry?”
“A little less then.”
Gun whines but he’s also laughing into Tinn’s neck, where he kisses Tinn, just because he can. Tinn tries to argue, to push him back a little, saying something about “Not in the car,” but Gun doesn’t care about his surroundings or the time or anything at all at that moment. The car jolts, running over some irregularity on the road, and Gun clings to Tinn. Always his safe port. He breathes in and out, through his mouth, and Tinn’s perfume fills him. City lights flash outside, a reminder of the night and the outside world, but Gun thinks only about Tinn’s skin, soft underneath his touch, underneath his lips. How long has it been since he kissed Tinn? Hours.
It’s so long still until they’re climbing the steps to their home — a home that is technically only Tinn’s but that has Gun’s shit everywhere. His favorite guitar, the clothes he’s been wearing since college, shampoo from a brand that’s sponsoring them, alongside Tinn’s things. Gun’s boots are in the same wardrobe Tinn keeps his dresses, some of which Gun bought himself, because now, he sees Tinn in everything beautiful. Not high heels, no, Tinn doesn’t like those, but discreet rings with a single gem; dangling earrings like the ones they wore that night, that suit Tinn’s hair nicely; and red lipstick, with all different kinds of finish, none of which Gun understood until he applied them to Tinn himself and ran his thumb over his lips.
Gun pins Tinn against their front door as soon as they’re inside, asking, “What do you want?”
Tinn’s breath leaves in a surprised huff. Gun can see him clearer now that they’ve stopped moving, the entrance light shining above them until the timing goes off and they’re left in the dark. Still, Gun sees him, and he brushes Tinn’s hair away from his face. He leans closer, lips close to Tinn’s ear.
“Should we find another house to live in? Open a new clinic for you?”
He kisses a trail down Tinn’s neck, his hands pulling Tinn’s shirt from inside his pants and going underneath, fulfilling his desire to feel the skin there. Tinn’s arms circle his neck, fingers tangling with his hair, making Gun latch onto his skin, right where his shoulder meets his neck, lips and teeth and tongue and a pressure that steals Tinn’s breath.
“Come to Milan with me next month,” he says, and he feels more than hears Tinn say his name. “Tinn.”
He takes a step back and the light goes on again. Tinn’s pupils are blown wide, and his eyes are round and dark and seeing only him. Good.
“I want to give you everything,” Gun says.
“You’re drunk,” Tinn says, and his smile is a little weak, a little uncertain.
Gun shakes his head, not because it’s a lie, but because it’s not the whole truth. He wants to say it. He’s wanted to say it for a long time.
He steps closer again. Nose to nose, lips millimeters apart. Tinn leans down to touch his forehead to Gun’s and Gun smiles at that.
“I want you to be there for me, and I want to be there for you,” he says as the light goes out. “Whatever you need, would you tell me what it is?”
All this to say, I want you to tell me all about you. All this to say, I want to know your dreams. All this to say, talk to me about anything and everything. All this to say—
Tinn’s kiss falls on him like an unexpected downpour. It’s not usual for him, who’s timid, always setting the pace when they make out. Maybe he’s drunk on whatever it is that takes the inhibitions out of Gun tonight, that makes them stumble on the way to the bedroom, tripping over discarded clothes. They’re giggling and kissing and falling askew on the bed. Gun should be holding his weight away from Tinn as he falls on him but they’re not graceful tonight. Tinn has lost his jacket but Gun kept his white shirt on, though fully unbuttoned, because he liked the way the silk felt to the touch. They’ll probably find lipstick on it in the morning, but it would be far from the first time it’s happened. Gun’s not even embarrassed to bring Tinn’s clothes to the cleaners anymore.
He finally stops kissing Tinn long enough to pull himself up, hands on either side of Tinn’s head, to look at him. Hair mussed, lipstick smeared, eyes shining and dark. His hands lay on the bed, just beside Gun’s, palm up and waiting. Open. Trusting.
Tinn once told him that he decided to become a plastic surgeon not to take up expensive jobs for celebrities, but to help those who wanted to feel better about themselves. He always chose every job very carefully, working together with the patient for a healthy mindset, and he said there was a special type of joy about looking in the mirror and liking the person you saw there.
Gun was so proud of him. He wished he could go back and meet Tinn in high school, to hold his hand, and call his name there. He wanted to give him happier memories on his own stage. He wanted Tinn to see how Gun saw him, inside and out.
“You’re so beautiful,” is all he can say.
He sees Tinn’s eyes water before Tinn pulls him back down to kiss him again. That’s when he lets himself cry, and laugh, and touch Tinn all he wants. His mind is still hazy, and Tinn is overwhelmed, so it’s far from being their best night. But Tinn keeps his legs wrapped around him, and Gun takes them both in hand, trying so bad not to fall into Tinn, wanting to make him feel good. He whispers nothings that are everything, and he hopes Tinn believes them all, because even if he’s a little drunk on alcohol and very drunk on happiness, he means it when he says, “You’re good, you’re so good, you’re perfect, I love you.” The sleeves of Tinn’s shirt feel like being touched by seafoam, and the bed dips as he thrusts. Tinn hands on his back feel like dragging him down and down, falling into his kiss until they’re both struggling to breathe.
When they climax, one following the other, Gun falls heavy into Tinn, and Tinn catches him. It’s like coming back to the shore after the tide has receded. Finding the way back home, after swimming in the dark sea. But it’s only the night, giving way to the morning, and kisses that have regained their calm as dawn approaches.
***
Gun wakes hours later, with the sun already high in the sky. He can tell Tinn cleaned him up, but there’s still too much of the party the night before in him, so he takes a shower before he looks for Tinn.
He finds him in the living room, his tablet in his hands, and silver glasses on his face. His skirt is a deep navy, and Gun knows he has a tie that matches it perfectly. He can see his own marks on Tinn’s neck, imperfections on the otherwise smooth skin that Tinn makes no attempt to hide with a scarf or a high collar. The button-up he wears has the first few buttons undone, showing the marks off. It’s just the two of them, after all. Just like he can be messy and forgetful and capricious sometimes, Tinn can also show his flaws, his temper, bare it all. When they disagreed or had fights over banal things, Gun could never be mad at him for more than a couple of hours.
Gun looks at those marks, at the column of Tinn’s neck, all of it calling for him like a mirror of Gun, of their mutual desire. But he also looks at Tinn’s eyes and sees him squinting at the screen despite his glasses. He’s still sleepy, even though he’s usually the one who wakes up early between the two of them. He tries to suppress a yawn, and Gun doesn’t even know if he’s making a sound or not for how endeared he feels. Intimacy felt really fucking good bathed in sunlight.
“Milan is on the fifteenth, right?” Tinn asks, taking his teacup from the coffee table.
“Yeah,” Gun answers, walking towards him. Tinn frowns.
“Do you think they can get me a seat in your flight? I don’t think— Gun, I’m still talking!”
But Gun only gives him more sniff kisses that evolve into pecks that evolve into him sitting on Tinn’s lap, arms around Tinn’s neck.
“Are you really coming?”
“Hmm,” Tinn acquiesces, setting the tablet aside on the couch in favor of holding Gun back. “That’s what you— I mean.” He gives Gun a smile that makes him look younger, full of light. “That’s what I want.”
How could anyone be mean to him, ever? All Gun can see is a beautiful boy, putting himself in Gun’s hands.
“You two are so gross, I’m never staying in the same room as the two of you ever again,” Sound had said once when they went out on a double date, Sound’s boyfriend laughing silently, and what Gun heard was, “You’re perfect for each other.”
He takes Tinn’s glasses off, folds them and places them on Tinn’s tablet.
“Okay,” he says, cupping Tinn’s face, void of any make-up but flushed and radiant all the same. It’s the sun, shining on the couch from the open window. But Gun hopes he can be that light, too. “Although I’ll probably have to hide you or they’ll think you’re a celebrity.”
“Aren’t I?” Tinn asks, tilting his head to the side and adopting a contemplating expression. “I am your boyfriend, after all. Isn’t that a kind of celebrity?”
Gun hums, nodding.
“I should dress you up and show you off,” he says, but freezes, thinking well about what he just said. His eyes must show his sudden panic, because Tinn is patting the back of his head and kissing him before he’s saying,
“Okay. Speak well of me, will you?”
It gives him pause for a few beats. He looks between Tinn’s eyes, as if expecting him to take it back, but he doesn’t. Gun has wanted to talk about him publicly for so long, but he didn’t know the right timing. He didn’t know where, in the long time he had been dating Tinn, their feelings had finally aligned perfectly. He’s admired and loved Tinn for some time now. Was it enough, for all the years Tinn had liked him before he was even in Tinn’s life? Would Sound hate him for exposing Tinn, who kept so much of himself to just a few select people, of which Gun has been so lucky to be included in?
But the night before, with Tinn’s gaze on him as he finally felt at the top of his world, Tinn’s earring clipped on his own ear – a part of Tinn always with him – he understood what it was like to speak of someone like they’re the world, just like his mom would do for his dad. It came out of him every time he thanked those that supported him, his eyes on every camera but his heart set on Tinn. Did it reach him?
Gun looks at Tinn until his vision gets blurry and Tinn’s smile fades, replaced with concern. Tinn asks, “Are you okay?”, but Gun only hugs him, hiding his face on his neck. He breathes in the scent of gardenias, and with the sun and Tinn’s warmth covering him, he doesn’t think about Milan, he thinks only,
“Mom is going to love you.”
Perhaps it’s time to plan a different trip.
#My School President#TinnGun#gun guntaphon#tinn tinnaphob#GeminiFourth#Alternate Universe: Different First Meeting
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The Meanest Flower
New letter from my old chap Bertie and he starts with a poem:
I remember—it must have been when I was at school because I don’t go in for that sort of thing very largely nowadays—reading a poem or something about something or other in which there was a line which went, if I’ve got it rightly, “Shades of the prison house begin to close upon the growing boy.”
It's Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood by William Wordsworth.
That guy that looked like somebody who wouldn't break and egg is a famous criminal known as Soapy Sid and that plain girl is her accomplice
While his female accomplice was gratefully embracing his lordship, Soapy Sid substituted a duplicate case for the one containing the pearls and went off with the jewels, the money and the receipt. On the strength of the receipt he subsequently demanded from his lordship the return of the pearls, and his lordship, not being able to produce them, was obliged to pay a heavy sum in compensation. It is a simple but effective ruse.”
And she dared to kiss Bertie!
My reaction:
Wooster was so close to marry a criminal but Jeeves saved him again by pickpocketing the pearls. Bertie should be glad that Jeeves does his job properly and has moral sense because Jeeves being so smart, charming and skilled could be a new Raffles.
Aunt Agatha has his necklace, Bertie lost money but had the chance to teach manners to his aunt and Jeeves can burn the the bloody cummerbund. More jolly days come in Wooster's future until Aunt Agatha strikes his bachelorhood again. Come on!!! His aroace/gay/queerness can be seen from the International Space Station!!!
For now, I'll leave a part of the poem Bertie remembered:
Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
#letters regarding jeeves#aunt agatha makes a bloomer#BLOO#jeeves and wooster#reginal jeeves#bertie wooster#a j raffles#literature#letters in the underground
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i love that you've been making a lot of ur avatrice fics a subtle (or very UNSUBTLE) ode to mascs/butch lesbians. and an ode to being queer in general. i think my fave things to read lately have been works like that; where the characters aren't just queer, but happy to be queer, relieved to be queer, or saved by being queer. and in terms of gender expression and queerness its something that i've had a hard time reconciling with myself, but the way you explore it through bea is refreshing and helpful for me, someone who's been out for 8 years and still sweats when deciding what shirts to buy myself, or sometimes how to even just walk when i go outside
honestly i never know what like general reactions will be but everyone has been so lovely! i think it's like — fundamentally so important to me that bea was never ever made to be femme! like canonically she's attractive to women in the show!! she has her little slacks!! & she's not like masc/butch explicitly but at the same time i'm like... she's never gotten to choose for herself either! & maybe she would! she could if she wanted! a little knight at the campfire, you know
& yah it's hard!! i've been out for over a decade & have gotten to have top surgery & be in a generally v safe & queer city + a wonderful marriage & community & like... i still cry over pants!! it's hard to be in a world that wasn't built for you, no matter how happy it is
BUT that being said yes to me queerness is the holiest thing in the whole world!! like whew, queerness DOES save the world; it is a relief & it is a joy & it is a miracle!
& i think, for me, at least, when i write bea, it's rly important to use the word lesbian for sure, but i also think like... there is something so so so beautiful about butches & dykes!!! & at least part of my journey has been falling in love with those words & that history & that deep joy. so in my fics i love writing bea getting to have some of that freedom & healing very specifically around like... not being femme!! she's a lesbian!!! maybe one day she would love the word dyke & all the gentle power it has held for so long. i don't really want it to be subtle bc i don't actually think after a few years of therapy & the world's most enthusiastic partner that bea would ever want anyone to think she's straight lol
& like god... i made myself emotional w a suit or a pair of pants & an older dyke where u just are like... oh. i can exist like this, so happy & so myself & so loved, for so long. & ava is wonderful so it's just kind of lovely to imagine bea just like... getting a masc haircut w the full freedom to love it or hate it bc ava is just :) i love you!!!!! & bea has never gotten to see if she would even Like that on herself before. bea trying on men's ("men's") clothes, picking out cologne bc she likes the way it smells better than perfume, etc etc etc. & in addition to her little button downs & slacks like... what would she want to wear during a lazy day at home? what would she want to wear to brunch on a sunday morning? ava is just in love so there's so, so many choices that open up to her!! she gets to just settle into what makes her happy & all the ways that's fluid & graceful & changing, none of which are defined by expectations of shutting the queer part of yourself off. all the beautiful expansiveness of queerness & this really gorgeous masculinity that's just There to explore. idk, it's wonderful lol & i feel like that freedom is just, for me, really nice to get to write. obviously if other ppl feel differently, that's also totally cool, but yeah, soft butch beatrice in all those variations forever
#give beatrice a hoodie 2k23#honestly i feel like any aesthetic bea has or explores ava is so into lol
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we’re finally truly reaching summer here, meaning it’s time for slow mornings spent on the balcony instead of the bed! along with this, the first pride reading challenge update! if i may say so myself, i’ve truly been on a reading streak these past two weeks and i don’t want it to ever stop.
here’s a short overview of which books i read for which prompt, in chronological order. a short opinion on each (at least each of the books) is below the cut :)
original post || my storygraph (tell me if you add me so i know to add you back!)
queer academia
Workplace support and affirming behaviors: Moving toward a transgender, gender diverse, and non-binary friendly workplace (Huffman et al., 2021) and Implementing LGBT-Diversity Management in a Global Company: The Case of SAP (Martins et al., 2016)
abolish, annihilate, aspec
Never Been Kissed - Timothy Janovsky
queer joy (aka everyone is queer and nothing hurts)
The Heartbreak Bakery - A.R. Capetta
yes homo
The Charm Offensive - Alison Cochrun
Never Been Kissed - Timothy Janovsky
i really enjoyed this one, and i certainly did not expect to tear up while reading it but i sure did. there are a few places where you notice that this is the author’s debut novel but imo the characters make up for it mateo beloved
The Heartbreak Bakery - A.R. Capetta
this was a very light-hearted read, and it really felt like an ode to underrepresented identities (in a good way, i’d say). sometimes confusing, but oh well that happens and is more a me thing than a book thing lmao. i think i would’ve liked it even better if it was less teen-y and with a little more focus on the magic itself, but that wasn’t what i was signing up for so it’s perfectly fine
The Charm Offensive - Alison Cochrun
so. damn. sweet. honestly, this book was so good to read. i liked the setting, i liked the characters, and the awkwardness in this is so lovable. 10/10 would read again
#studyblr w/knives reading challenge#pride reading challenge#reading#books#bookblr#reading time#literature#studyblr#studying#university#knife gang#also once again i love the colour scheme sab!#*mine
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Masterpost
Personal favorites
error
contradictions
drowning
feeling like you've stolen something
my name is a poem
home/prison
some days
listening
it wants to eat itself
Aromantic
happy
imaginary love
compulsion
wanting to want
asymptote
distance
Bigender
both and neither
rubber band
sunshine
trapped
you can't win.
siblings
holy
dialectical
Trans
queer
balance
ghosts
navigation
freedom
proud?
Family
five stages of a mother's grief for her trans child
daughter/son/failure
mother's house
outlier (father georg)
reflection
grief
yartzeit
Dysphoria
deadname
stranger
learn to love your body
i wish i could wear a dress
gender & childhood
burden
Euphoria
ode to a sock cock
joy
hair
shape my body into a home
yom kippur
Coming Out
afraid
declare your gender
take my heart
bite my tongue
trans day of visibility
Friendship
unsure
talking
funny thing
highs and lows
Sexuality
masterpiece
breathless
remember
outsider among outsiders
Mental Health
monster
person
won't die today
sun
how long i've lived
metaphors
wanting to get better
Someone
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Here we are, I posted all my web weavings about different types of queer joy ! I hope you enjoyed them 🥰🌈
An Ode To Queer Joy : part 1 (community) / part 2 (queer love) / part 3 (euphoria)
And if you want another reason for experiencing some queer joy, here is what we gained all over the world in terms of new queer rights in 2022 & 2023 🏳️🌈🏳️⚧️✊️
#yes this is a photo of hirschfeld. bc seeing all these queers from the early 20th century *smile* and be themselves... it's so precious#queer joy#web weaving
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ODE TO QUEER JOY
Ode to Queer Joy is the title of a personal project I started photographing last Spring. My aim for this project is to build a photographic archive of the varied LGBTQ+ spaces in Chicago where we find community, love, pride, support, representation and joy.
Much of this project (so far) was photographed as part of Block Club Chicago’s Pride month coverage in 2022. The initial published photo essay is titled “An Ode to Chicago’s Queer Spaces: Photos of Pride, Love and LGBTQ+ Joy in Chicago” and can be seen here: https://blockclubchicago.org/2022/06/30/an-ode-to-chicagos-queer-spaces-photos-of-pride-love-and-lgbtq-joy-in-chicago/ The piece won a Peter Lisagor Award in 2023 for Best Feature Photography.
Before the Block Club Chicago piece, I had begun a project photographing portraits of people at Kathy Osterman Beach, also known as Hollywood Beach, in Chicago. This beach is a popular LGBTQ hangout spot in the Chicago summers. Some of these portraits were used in this piece for the Chicago Reader titled “We’re Here, We’re Queer, We’re at the Beach”.
This gallery on my website will continue to be updated with new photographs from this project.
Exploring and participating in community is a core value to my work and life. Currently, the two communities I most identify with and strive to document are my geographic community of Chicago and the global community of LGBTQ+ persons, of which I am proud to be a member.
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Gay as A Fox: Family Guy: No Title Can Express How Much I Hate The Third Episode I”m Reviewing Today (You May Now Kiss The Uh, Guy who Receives, Family Gay and Quagmire’s Dad)
Content Warning: The third episode discussed today is EXTREMLEY Transphobic. Discretion is advised.
Welcome and welcome back to Gay as a Fox, my look at various fox shows attempts at tackling queer characters. Last week we tackled how the simpsons did it, with two great episodes and two passable ones with plenty of john waters, homer marrying a man to the bible, unecessary milhouse subplots and fashion chernobles to enjoy. All thanks to kev my friend and patron who comissioned these reviews. This week though.. he had me watch one episode from my teen years, a boring sterotypical pile of garbage... and easily the worst thing i’ve reviewed. Granted I generally steer towards good media.. but i’ve dove into my share of dumpster fires. In fact Kev is responsible for comissioning/inflicing the previous title holder ... which just so you have a gage for how BAD quagmire’s dad is if you haven’t suffered through it yourself or your memories are vauge.. THIS is what I had to put up with..
BE.. AFRAID..
Of course before we can get into that we have not only two otther episodes but have to get to my throughts on the show itself.
I used to REALLY love Family Guy. The first three seasons were something I happily devoured when I found the show, I bought the dvds for them and for season 4, and I was overjoyed to watch the show every week when it came back. I geninely loved it and honestly.. I still love those first 5 seasons. Some things have aged very poorly, Quagmire on the hole, some of the jokes, and we’ll get into some of that in a moment with our first episode in this three pack. But the show was just packed with memorable gags, using the cutaways not as a crutch or filler like later seasons, but to tell some REALLY hilaroius jokes with low context
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The show was good.. but eventually a combination of Seth Mcfarline barely checking in, likely being busy doing a ton of other projects, and the show loosing viewers cause dit to turn, churning out episodes. While the show would ocasoinally do sterotypical jokes, the series slowly leaned HEAVILY on jokes that are just “LOOK STEREOTYPE ABOUT GROUP”. It went from well constructed insanity to just “LOOK HOW OFFENSIVE I CAN BE AIN’T THAT FUNNY” which has worked exactly never times.
As such while the first episode is decent if shooting itself in the foot, the second is boring and the last... is a horrible pile of shit the creator stood behind. Yes really. And we’ll get to all of tha tin a moment as I tackle Family Guy’s attempts, emphasisi on attempts, to tackle gay marriage, conversion thearpy, and transgender peoples.
You May Now Kiss The Uh, Guy Who Recieves (Season 4)
Before we even get into the episode, we have the title
And that sets the tone for the episodes gay characters. Last week when covering the simpsons, I talked about how John was a fairly camp gay man, he still had some layers and a wonderful john waters performance backing him, making him feel like a real person despite being a one episode gay character there to teach Homer Simpson a lesson about tolerance.
Family Guy.. gives us jasper...
Jasper is every possible gay sterotype packed into one character. He isn’t a NEW character, having shown up in seasons 2 and 3 in cutaways and then in a small roll in the two parter where Brian got addicted to cocaine then moved to hollywood for a while... which had a casual possibly transphobic joke in it as a throwaway.. that’s somehow LESS offensive than Quagmire’s Dad.
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Jasper entire schtick is
Sounds tiresome? Then imagine that stretched out and magnified for an ENTIRE EPISODE. There is NOTHING added to flesh jasper out as a character. He is a walking sterotype and every word out of his mouth could be replaced with “GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY I LIKE PENISSSSSS GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY I LIKE PEEEEENNNNNISSS”, set to ode to joy and nothing would BE diffrent. The show tries to justify itself by having Stewie constnatly lampshade it.. which only makes it worse as they KNEW Jasper was a puddle thin gay sterotype and STILL used him as the episode’s center anyway. They would’ve been better off having a recurring character come out. I would’ve watched Seamus’ gay pirate wedding. Just saying it now if any Family Guy writers read this I present you that episode ENTIRELY free. I will take no credit and say nothing else as to not steer you so you end up in rights issue. Make this happen.
Instead they brought in a camp gay sterotype and his silent boyfriend, Ricardo, and then TRY to make it an aseop episode about gay marriage. And then mostly focus on Brian instead. While Brian’s attempts to be an ally are noble, it really says something when your episode dosen’t at all seem to care abotu the emotions of the actual gay person. Simpsons already did a gay wedding episode, again covered last week.. and used Patty, having us care more and adding weight to one of the main characters not being okay with it. Here it’s just a character who will evaporate into rainbow colored either after this. Simpsons had not only done two great episodes on gay characters, but had learned it’s lesson from the first one to give us some more investment. It still made mistakes, but it actually gave a shit in making it. As such while I do WANT the ban on gay marriage to not pass, it’s because .. it’s a fucking same sex marriage ban. I could care less if Jasper gets marriage, it’s just the right thing to get behind. Any other gay characters are also just reduced to sterotypes or gay jokes like watching sex and the city.. which feels like a cheap shot given the show is not that bad. The second movie and large portions of in just like that? yeah fair enough. But the joke isn’t even that funny. And yes i’m standing up for Sex and The City. It’s not perfect, having a VERY biphobic episode itself i’ll get to one of these days to tear to shreds, and language that’s very of the time, but it is a fairly witty, enjoyable sitcom that tackled issues no other show could or would> The sequels are varying degress of ehhhhh or yikes, but it’s not half bad. It also has shirtless Kyle Mclaughn angrily playing tennis at night which is both the whitest and most glorious thing i’ve ever seen.
That being said while it fails in giving us a queer character to give a shit about it DOES do some satire well: The three sides against it are all the varying shades of dumb that go against queer issues: We have Mayor West who dosen’t seem to have any real issue with gay people and is doing it entirely to distract from building a sold gold statue of a long forgotten cereal mascot, Dig Em the sugar smacks frog, though the Dig Them joke with Mort Goldman is hysterical, who represents politicans who only oppose queerness for their own ends or points and don’t genuinely care about the lives they ruin, with West only going against it in the end because Brian holding him hostage distracted everyone. That said we get a LOT of great late Adam West in this one from “Jingle keys” to i’m a tomato, to his bullet sized shield hidden somehwere on his body to coughing up strageo. He’s as always a delight
The next is the far right via the Young Republicans, who are portrayed as hateful idiots and suck Chris in entirley because he wants to touch boob. They have no real arguments or groundign to actually oppose this, their just hateful assholes as they should be portrayed. They also give us the best joke of the episode as they send chris on a little inititaion test to join the young republicans
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This joke.. really sums up why despite their mockery, sometimes diserving, cutaway gags REALLY work for the show. This joke is random, nonsensical, really makes no statments on clinton himself such as his predatory behavior. It’s just funny nonsense that implies a former president reguarly sings a jolly song whie prancing around nude. ANd it is glorious. Family guy is rarely mature nonsense but the good stuff has such an ubanashed joy and lack of shame to it that I can’t help but love it. It’s wacky 8tth grade fun nonsense and it owns it.
Finally we have Lois who decides she opposes marriage but is okay with them being together... and it’s portrayed as equally nonsensical. We also get the great parody education film “you’ve got a gay
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Lois ends up learning her lesson not thorugh some heartfelt struggle btu through the obvious via her parents: that MANY of the straight people railing for no gay marriage are deeply unhappy yet think their form of marriage is right while people who geninely love each other shouldn’t be able to get married turnign her around> There’s no big speech at the hall or anything, Lois just relaizes she was wrong and lets Jasper have his wedding.
So yeah the episode is not great at actually portraying gay people , has no excuse for it given the simpsons again did it better LONG before this.. but does ballance it out with some legit poitns and some great jokes. Stewie’s candbowl bit is also classic as is the payoff for the voltswagon key (”your welcome”). It’s not the best episode of the early shows nor one I could say really saved anything, especially since as we’ll get to next week it’s sister show did Gay aseops much better not long after this. But you can find most of the good gags themselves on youtube so you don’t really NEED to bother with this episode but it won’t really harm you if you watch it. IT’s just kinda there. Now if you want painful to watch.. welllll
Family Gay (Season 7)
It’s remarkable how far the show had fallen in just three seasons. The pacing is so bad at this point that the first 6 minutes of plot are about Peter using bean money to buy a brain damaged horse. Yes really. They were so proud of this thorughly stupid and unfunny bit, including jokes about horse semen and licking peter’s buthole..
They stamped it on the front of the DVD for the season. This episode was a slog even before getting to the gay jokes, just an endless void where nothing funny happens to compesnate for the throughly edgelord attempts at “comedy: through shock humor instead of actually trying to write a joke or have something be nuts and random while still being funny like Naked Bill Clinton. Which is a sentence I got paid to write and it sadly isn’t enough to offse thaving to watch this thing, let alone the thing after it. This episode is just a void where comedy goes to die. It’s 22 minutes of nothing.
And then it has the nerve to TRY and have an aseop about gay people. Peter gets injected with the gay gene and thus becomes gay. So once again instead of introducing a queer character or having someone come out.. they instead turn peter gay. For an episode. And SUPIRSE he suddenly acts camp gay because he got injected instead of you know, himself but into dudes, and outright abandons his family. Not leaves lois to have a partner.. he just abandons the kids and never visits or anything. Which is the most in character peter is once gay honestly but paints a bad picture. And then we get them trying to speka out against gay conversion therapy
Yes in THIS episode. And two of our MAIN CHARACTERS SEND PETER THERE. Brian because he feels bad for lois and Stewie because he’s an armored closet gay for the episode despite being camp gay every other episode
Yeah NONE of this is forgivable and the episode just brushes it off, lois rejects him and we get a blazing saddles refrence. Then peter turns back during an orgy. Nothing was acomplished< meg outright lampshades that and this episode just... is a void. It got one or two laughs maybe , including said blazing saddles refrnece but nothing really truly hilarious or good or worth sitting through this. It’s nothing and it shoudl be forgotten. And to the writers credit they did agree to phase out gay jokes. To their entire discredit.. it was in 2019. 3 years ago. Gah and now .. “Quagmire’s Dad”
Fuck This Episode (Also Season 7)
I fucking loathe this episode. I usually try not to get angry in my reviews, like I said I normally review stuff I geninely like on some level and while I won’t hesitate to call out a shows flaws, I can find some good in most things, or at least a laugh or two. Even with The Boys comic I could make some jokes. But this? This episode.. is loathsome. Calling it garbage is an insult to trash as most trash at least was used for something one time or served a purpose. All this episode does is spew hate and double down on harmful sterotypes. Getting though Family Gay was hard.... this was damn near impossible. Kev outright APOLOGIZED for having me review this one, I got paid good money.. and it wasn’t NEARLY enough. This episode isn’t just the worst thing i’ve reviewed i’ts one of if not THE worst piece of media i’ve seen. And yes, that threshold is indeed vast but I stand by it.
To give those of you who are lucky enough to not have seen this the bare minimum you need: This episode follows Quagmire, who just as a reminder is a rapist of VARYING kinds and has kept sex slaves in his house, so you know who exactly their trying to portray as normal, as he welcomes his Navy War Hero mother in, who at the time is biologically a man and hasn’t transitioned yet.
Due to being mildly camp, because that’s the only kind of gay people Seth and Co think exist, Peter and JOe think she’s gay.. but it turns out, as you likely knew going in even if you hadn’t seen the episode, she’s a woman, named Ida and trasnitioning. Now outsie of the usual for family guy camp gay sterotypes, this isn’t a TERRIBLE setup. The show has had two episodes about gay men at this point, as well as a subplot about Meg joining the Gay and Lesbian Alliance.
So having it revealed that this isn’t that, but talking about the underserved topic of Trans People instead.. it’s a decent start. It’s a bit botched because the person their trying to portray as confused and conflicted over this . .is a sex monster whose raped women and kept others as slaves, so I don’t give a damn what he thinks or abotu his feelings.. but the base setup is trying a little.
The problem is every fucking thing else. Quagmire is portrayed with some naunce: he’s clearly against all of this and it’s portrayed as not right.. from trying to downplay ida being trans to lashing out at them like a 12 year old. But the fact he’s confused, dosent know what to call them besides Ida, and had a LOT to take in is portrayed sympathetically and he comes around by the end, not trhough a big speech but through having a few hours alone to process and accept that Ida is still the parent he knew and loved.. they were just hiding part of who they are and their HAPPY now. It’s not perfect, because again, sex monster, but it’s clear their trying a bit.
And that’ ALL the credit I can fucking give them because everyone else in this episode is a transphobic fucking monster, except Meg, and NEVER get called out for it. To use the simpsons again, Homer in Homer’s Enemy is a homophobic jackass to show he’s wrong. He says outrageous shit
But NO ONE is on his side but likeminded idiots who also have to learn the lesson. Here... Peter, Lois and later Brian and Stewie are portrayed as casually transphobic, blatantly dispresectful and out and out horrible.. and it’s portrayed for COMEDY. Ther’es no jokes told. .thier just awful about this trans woman and it’s taken at face value. Ther’es no commpuance, no learning, no nothing. Their just fucking awful people.
See with peter it’s more like homer and thus I can take it a LITTLE: He’s throughly stupid, knows nothing and thus is no help to Quagmire when he needs him. That’s nothing new and he’s a bad person. We’ve established this. He abandoned his family when he didn’t REALLY need to abandon his kids. He’s garbage
But Lois is usually portrayred as a sane person by the show. .and is FAR WORSE. Like HOLY SHIT. She , like peter claims being trans means ida is gay, has meg throw a dish ida brings over “in the outside trash”, makes passive agressive comments about her and when finding out Brian slept with her, LAUGHS HER ASS OFF LIKE IT’S THE FUNNIEST THING. She’s a terrible person whose utterly awful to this woman and it’s treated like any of this shit is okay or a joke. Throwing out a trans persons hard made food because you don’t like their trans isn’t a joke.. ti’s hate. Pure, unabashed hate. This episode is hateful as shit with everyone but Quagmire treating Ida like some sort of freak.. again except meg, but they make a cheap joke about meg instead of letting her be an ally.
Then we get to Brian who not only do lois and peter treat like crap when, this time, he hasn’t done anything, but who has sex with Ida not knowing she’s trans.. and his reactoin is utterly disgusting in both senses. He vomites for 37 seconds straight.... yes really. Like the previous ep this one is full of filler. But he VOMITS OVER IT FOR 37 SECONDS,
then when revealing it he says “aren’t they supposed to tell everyone when they move to the neighborhood” like she was a SEX OFFENDER. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST there isn’t enough GO FUCK YOURSELF in the world to cover that line.
Oh and we also get Quagmire beating brian up for it because he’s so likeable he assaults a man for sleeping with his parent for no good reason and brian says I fucked your dad... FUCK. all of this.
But worse is how SETH treated the reaction to this in the interview that I found thanks to the wayback machine and wikipedia.... here.. here are his quotes complete and unabriged
Details: You predicted that another episode—about a transgendered character—would make the LGBT community happy. It didn't.
Seth MacFarlane: That surprised me. I don't meet a lot of stupid homosexuals. They seem to be a pretty smart bunch. But it seemed that they were not picking up on the fact that it was a very sympathetic portrayal of a transsexual character.
Okay first off, Seth... TRANS DOES NOT = GAY. There are gay, demi, bi and pan trans people sure, but it does not mean every trans person is into the opposite sex. Second implicitly calling anyone “stupid” who dosen’t “get it”. and what part of Lois having her food thrown out, Chris asking uncomfortable questions about their privates, everyone treating her like a circus freak, and brian vomiting for 37 seconds is sympathetic? The character is seen as a good person but is also a transphobic punching bag with no character beyond “transexual” and “quagmire’s parent”. Just because the character isn’t a sterotype dosen’t mean you get a pass sethanial.
Details: Maybe the fact that Brian barfs his guts out when he realizes he's had sex with a transsexual threw them off.
Seth MacFarlane: Hey, we're still Family Guy.We're not suddenly going to become 7th Heaven. Actually, I guess on 7th Heaven they would probably burn the transsexual at the stake. Let me think of another example. We're not Mr. Belvedere. Look, Brian happens to be a heterosexual character, as I am. If I found out that I had slept with a transsexual, I might throw up in the same way that a gay guy looks at a vagina and goes, "Oh, my God, that's disgusting." It's just the way we're biologically wired. They should give that another look.
Oh my god.. so much fucking wrong here. Okay first off you don’t have to be a sitcom to treat a character with dignity in an aseop. Simpsons treated John with plenty but still had PLENTY of jokes , often at homer’s ignorant expense
So you could do the same theortically with a trans character. You don’t have to be Full House to have people except Ida. Just be a fucking adult.
But the next part is the worst.... jesus christ. Seth. .if that’s your reaction to sleeping with a trans woman
Seth you are a rich man. You can afford to edcuate yourself even running three damn shows. You have no excuse for being a prejudiced ass, let alone positioning yourself like your not. I do concded he COULD have changed his stance and become more educated.. but he still approved and va’d and defneded this episode and said this shit. He still should be held acountable.
It is NOT normal to throw up after finding out you had sex with a trans person. It means YOUR transphobic and YOU have no ground to stand on. YOU think Trans people are less than people and YOU can go fuck yourself.
Also the gay man going at a vagina and saying ewww.. .what? Vagina’s don’t.. magically repel gay men? They dont’ see them as insects or something. They just don’ot find them attractive. And it’s NOT how we’re biologically wired, you fucking idiot. I’ve been attracted to trans men and women. You know why? because i’m BISEXUAL. I’m into men and women. Trans Women and Trans Men.. are just women and men. The only diffrence is they weren’t born with the body they were meant for. That’s all. You throwing up about that says more about YOU and jackasses like you who claim to be progressive but then vomit at sleeping with a woman.
I hope for the sake of the Orville and other projects Seth’s grown the hell up. But this episode, even with a sequel that apparently tries to fix it.. without actually fixing anything beyond maknig the characters not monsters, is a putrid steaming monument ot hate that will never quite go away.. and will hopefully only be remembered as a cautionary tale. Fuck this, thank you for reading.
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hello and welcome to my oc blog!! i have so many projects and so many characters so feel free to ask about literally anything and everything. it may take me a while to finish asks but i always see them and try to answer them as soon as i can! some of the information present on my main blog will be transferred to here so you'll see a few repeats as i actually start working on the blog.
my current projects:
shadow fields: shadow fields is a collection of different stories in the shadow fields township. from the disappearance of charles ellis to the possession of abel greene and the vivisection of eric laura vallery, many stories can be told. there is no one reason and no right answer.
the shadow fields sun bears: the township baseball team. our main character, atlas, is presented with the issue of a failing team. the sun bears start out as a good team but they quickly fall into a slump when they begin to ignore their god. this god is present to the human eye. you can see her at the edge of the stands or vanishing around the corner back into the locker room. she makes the grass hiss and sounds like wooden chimes clinking together in the wind.
this god appears most often to atlas, a newcomer who has to hold up the weight of the team by himself. after their most recent drought, the god presents herself to atlas but doesn't say anything he can understand. its up to him to interpret it and try to help the team himself.
moonlight hills: with no rhyme or reason- mayor midas drops dead. an unexplained and unfinished murder where midas only dies of blood loss. its up to adenine scott to watch over the autopsy and begin investigation into who killed mayor midas. its a cycle. each mayor for the past thirty years has dropped dead unexpectedly. adenine is the one to tie it together- to uncover how and why the town breathes.
the grey lake: three kids trying to relax before senior year leave winnemucca, nevada and travel to wallowa, oregon for summer break. the story is styled in a way to make it similar to what you think of when you think "indie film." trent realizes how lonely he's become since his mom passed. cassy's issues with her self worth resurface and she tries to come to terms with not being what her mom wants. ricky struggles to connect with the world around him after thirteen years of homeschooling and together they try to take a break and figure things out.
the house by the sea: three kids living in an orphanage on the seaside leave their home and travel by train out of the city on a journey of self discovery. their caretaker marnie has to find them while still keeping the other kids safe, though the story mostly revolves around ella, joey, and david- the three kids who ran away.
geophilomorpha: forming in 2002 and releasing their first album (self titled) the same year, geophilomorpha hit the punk rock scene hard. on lead vocals is caine butcher, one of the bands founders. on guitar is eddie mortan, floyd marilyn on the upright bass, matthew cadorna on electric bass, and on drums is jeremiah ashley, the other founder. the band has been in the queer rock scene for years, making albums about personal experiences regarding addiction, angels, transsexuality, and bloody noses.
ode to aphrodite: inspired by the poem made by sappho of the same name, ode to aphrodte formed in 2008 with the help of the members of geophilomorpha and released their first album in 2009. inspired by afro-punk voices like pure hell and fishbone, as well as classical jazz and blues, the bands vocalist and bassist thelma richard-ashley wishes to continue uplifting voices from music artists of color like herself. ode to aphrodite is a tribute to lesbianism and black joy. though their music can be on the heavier side instrumentally, their main goal is to create and share a meaningful message.
the exhibitionists: starting in 1996 and releasing their first album in the same year, the exhibitionists is an electronic and industrial band founded by seth (vocals and keyboard) and stanley davis (guitar). the twins, inspired by artists like skinny puppy, tool, ministry, and nine inch nails, welcomed jane evans (bass) and audrey kim (drums) to help make the music they loved. the band stands out from most others- making dark and ambient electronic music great for stage performances. with an almost cultish fanbase, the exhibitionists quickly got their name out in the electronic music scene.
collaborations:
deciding exousia: founded in 1993, deciding exousia is a nu metal band, releasing their first album, hermeneutics, in 1994. with a harsh sound and large group, exousia took local basements by storm. founded by stella jansen (rhythm guitar), sebastian dalton (lead vocals), trevor neilson (bass), liam morrison (drums), and kevin hayes (lead guitar). eventually graduating to the stage (and bigger basements), they introduced new members to the group. damon bauer on keyboard, ethan walker for orchestral accompaniment, blair hyde on woodwinds, zachary quinn on percussion, and wyatt payne on synths.
the springfield prairie dogs: the first of me and erin's two fan teams, the springfield illinois prairedogs are a collaboration between me and her. there's so much to say about them, so ask anything and everything.
the austin bats: the same goes for the bats. they're located in austin texas rather than illinois, and is the rival team to the prairie dogs.
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The queer odes have put me in a really good gender mood. Ergo:
joy trans claire fic be upon ye (I still have a chapter left but trans claire deserves love)
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