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livethinking · 4 years

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«Poetry is not a luxury»: Maya Angelou, Gwendolyn Brooks, Margaret Walker and poetry as resistance

«Poetry is not a luxury»[1], Audre Lorde said. Poetry is not a game, another amusement to dampen the boredom of a humdrum life but it’s a need, a necessity as instrument to the battle against oppression, to self-determination and to identitary resistance because «poetry is power»[2]. And this is as much true and confirmed when poetry becomes activism, when lyricism expresses, and thus bears witness, a discomfort and makes it universal, fathomable through the poetic language; when writing in verse is the only way to express ideas and makes sure they’re recognised in their own dignity, thus it’s necessary in order to save and let respected the existence of that human being who has thought it, in order to this existence can be recognised as such, can arise from oppression and systematic hate, can give voices to those whose lips were ripped off, such as women, for whom «[…] poetry […] is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we [women] predicate our hopes and dreams towards survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought»[3], so, poetry’s place where they can expresses opinions, needs, dreams, hope, in other words themselves, where the cultural system gives preference to other voices, wherein censorship is not official, i.e. perpetrated by an organisation or a law, but it’s cultural because it’s the culture that systematically chooses (a given social class) what creative expressions are more or less are in line with its own values or strengthen them. That’s why for centuries poetry (but also the whole literature) has been place wherein affirm ourselves and the individuality of our own identity, or express pride for a communitarian identity; as it was for women, who found in poetry an instruments they can express their real self through, getting out of the patriarchal control and out of the role they were bonded to by society and came less to the expectations of this one. In this way, women could so analyse her being woman, dreaming to choose who are and what to do, self-determinising and exploring their femininity beyond believes given by a certain historical moment; as it was for black community, wherein black poets could express the a beauty, the varieties, the complexity of their subculture, their traditions, history and so express the pride of being part of this ethnicity, fighting against racism and networking against the oppression perpetrated by a system that privileges white citizens (and more often men). These two concepts converge into the poetic experience of black women poets, for whom poetry became a place wherein speaking of their experience as women and black citizens, wherein they can exist and affirm their existence, «The white father told us: I think, therefore I am. The Black mother within each of us – the poet – whispers in our dreams: I feel, therefore I can be free. Poetry coins the language to express and charter this revolutionary demand, the implementation of that freedom»[4]. Let think of great poets like Maya Angelou, whose poems «often respond to matters like race and sex on a larger social and psychological scale»[5], or like Gwendolyn Brooks, whose poetry, especially the latest, is a political and civil poetry, taking as cultural reference heroes and subjects of the battle for liberation of black people (such as Winnie Mandela, wife to the anti-apartheid activist), but also like Margaret Walker who «through her work, she “[sang] a song for [her] people”, capturing their symbolic quest for liberation. When asked how she viewed her work, she responded, “The body of my work… springs from my interest in a historical point of view that is central to the development of black people as we approach the twenty first century”»[6].

1. Maya Angelou: I know why the caged bird sings

«The poignant beauty of Angelou’s writing enhances rather than masks the candid with which she addresses the racial crisis through which America was passing»[7]. That of Maya Angelou is a lively and melodic voice, her poems can talk even when there’s no human voice to give them sound, they have as mode,s the language of the intense, brave speeches of the great activist of the battle for black people’s rights like Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr. Angelou was able to bring together all temporal planes in her writing: both in her poetry and autobiographies, she managed to give voice to the last, to make it a new present, part of the hic te nunc of the existence in action and not anymore as something disappeared with time, but as something that is still here partly, that is still a being. A past that is personal, her life, her youth, her terrible traumas, the beauty of growing before as a girl than as a woman; a pat that is of her community, the troubled story of afroamericana and who that the lyrical I becomes a We, the collectivity becomes a person. The personal experience is thus an exemplum for the common one and becomes even global. The present meets the past, that of when a given poems was born, that of readers, of the poet, it’s the daily battle which becomes memory, it’s the journey to the self-determination in a place where is hostility but also the future, it’s the caged bird that sings and whose song is heard by the free birds, the future is a song overcoming its own time: «The caged bird sings/with a fearful trill/of things unknown/but longed for still/and his tune is heard/on the distant hill/for the caged bird/sings of freedom»[8]. “The caged bird”, dr, Maya Angelou’s favourite metaphor, taken from Paul Laurence Dunbar, famous afroamerican author, is a symbol for the inner freedom that wins ones the oppression of the external, is an eternal song that’s heard until now and if it’s clearly listened, one can hear the thousand of voice from the past and here we can find the beauty in Maya Angelou’s writing: the ability to speak through not one but a thousand of voices, voices of both the present and the past, giving relevance to the last ones, and consequently she was able to tell the future, to be understood by who’ll be after her.

2. Gwendolyn Brooks: writing poetry that will be meaningful

The poetic voice of Gwendolyn Brooks, the first afroamerican woman to win the Pulitzer Prize, is raw, bitter when the language gets filled with political and cultural meaning, when brings a message without forgetting the sweetness, the beauty of a poised, refined style. Worked, studied poems, perfect verse and rhymes, but also intense, hard, which don’t take away to be tough, to tell the truth on oppression, pain, on the battle to re-humanise her own identity in a culture where it was deprived of its otherness, of being an Other Ego, an Other Truth. This happens especially with the her most famous poem collection, In The Mecca, a turning point for Brooks’s poetics. «I want to write poems that will be non compromising. I don’t want to stop a concern with words doing good jobs, which has always been a concern of mine, but I want to write poems that will be meaningful […]»[9] and this was so. Brooks managed to delineate a world, give multiple meanings to the words she used, to the poems, to speak with the voice of her great gallery of characters. In her poems, there’s her Lyric I, but also her characters. Such a polyphony that only few, even among novelists, can make it in such little verbal marks. «The words, lines, and arrangements have been worked and worked and worked again into poised exactness: the unexpected apt metaphor, the mock-colloquial asides amid jewelled phrases, the half-ironic repetition – she knows it all»[10]. A poetry that can speak to its people, community, that hopes, fights for a future where Gwendolyn Brooks «[…] envisioned “the profound and frequent shaking of hands, which in Africa in so important. The shaking of hands in warmth and strength and union”»[11].

3. Margaret Walker: poetry as hope, poetry for the people

Margaret Walker’s poetics is the voice of a whole people, is culture that becomes creative work of a lonely person for the universality and becomes bringer of values. It’s the song of a choir, a choir for the last, of the story of slavery, of that community that still fights for the right to exist; it’s a choir that still sings and never stops to sing the lines of this wonderful poet.

One of the most loved and praised poem of Margaret Walker is “For My People”, which contains all the characteristics that made unique Walker’s poetry and it’s an excursus through the past and more recent history of US Black community, from the tragedy of slavery, to civil battles still fought nowadays in the heart of the New World; «poems in which the body and spirit of a great group of people are revealed with vigour and undeviating integrity»[12]. She uses as reference cultural elements of her community, recalls heroes, events that form that culture as vast as unheard by those who spit poison to not lose the position of privilege, and if this culture isn’t heard, then Margaret Walker addresses also to the deaf. She speaks to them as well, making universal a history that’s particular. Walker speak to everyone through her rhymes, she speaks to the humanity; her poetry talks about tragedies but is full of hope because she knows there will be always someone who still listen, fight, defend, doesn’t forget, «[…] the power of resilience presented in the poem is a hope Walker holds out not only to black people, but to all people […] “After all, it is the business of all writes to write about the human condition, and all humanity must be involved in both the writing and in the reading”»[13]

Viviana Rizzo

References

[1] LORDE, A., “Poetry Is Not a Luxury”, in Audre Lorde, Sister outsider, Trumansburg N.Y., Crossing Press, 1984, p. 371

[2] TODOROV, L’arte nella tempesta. L’avventura di poeti, scrittori e pittori nella Rivoluzione Russa, trans. ita. by Emanuele Lana, Milano, Garzanti S.r.l., 2017, p. 120 (iBooks)

[3] LORDE, A., “Poetry Is Not a Luxury”, in Audre Lorde, Sister outsider, p. 372

[4] Ibidem

[5] EDITORS, “Maya Angelou”, in Poetry Foundation, web, 2021, (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/maya-angelou, retrieved on 24th February 2021)

[6] EDITORS, “Margaret Walker”, in Poetry Foundation, web, 2021 (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/margaret-walker, retrieved on 24th February 2020).

[7] HOLST, W.A., “Review of A song Flung up to Heaven”, in Christian Century (giugno 2002), pp. 35-36, cit. in EDITORS, “Maya Angelou” in Poetry Foundation

[8] ANGELOU, M., The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou, New Work, Random House Inc., 1994, p. 194

[9] EDI TORS, “Gwendolyn Brooks”, Poetry Foundation, web, 2021 (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/gwendolyn-brooks consultato il 24 febbraio 2021)

[10] LITTLEJOHN, D., Black on White: A Critical Survey of Writing by American Negroes, New York, Grossman, 1966, p. 91, cit. in EDITORS, “Gwendolyn Brooks”, in Poetry Foundation

[11] EDITORS, “Gwendolyn Brooks”, in Poetry Foundation

[12] UNTERMEYER, L. “New Books in Review” in Yake Review, vol. XXXII, n. 2 (inverno 1934), p.371, cit. in EDITORS, “Margaret Walker”, in Poetry Foundation

[13] EDITORS, “Margaret Walker”, in Poetry Foundation

#Black women #literature #poetry as resistance #Maya Angelou #ethnicity #resistance #black history month #Margaret Walker #poetry #Black community #Gwendolyn Brooks #activism #people #Black people #battle for civil rights #black lives matter

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nerdygaymormon · 3 years

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I need a bit of advice. I'm hoping to become an active advocate for the LGBT+ community within the Church, as I feel like the Lord has pretty much given me this as a calling. I wasn't to treat it seriously as a calling and try to do real, substantive work. However, I'm not certain how to start, and I'm scared of what will happen when I my extended family eventually finds out. They already struggle with me being disabled, what will happen when they find out I'm unrepentantly queer? Furthermore, I want my mom (who I live with and depend on) to be an ally to me, and she seems willing, but also scared of the reaction. She's also very lonely and I don't want to isolate her any more than she is by siding with me. Is my time not come yet? Is there something I should wait for? Are there things I need to do to prepare for the fallout? Should I tell my mom not to support me? I really appreciate you <3

The shade! "I wasn't to treat it seriously as a calling and try to do real, substantive work."

It's true a number of callings at church can be lacking much substance or done in a haphazard, hit or miss approach.

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In regards to your mom, usually your gut will guide you right. If you feel she'll be an ally, that's probably true. If you feel like it's dangerous to tell her, then there's a good chance that's true.

One way to test the waters is to bring up that you have a friend who came out as queer (lesbian, trans, etc) and you're glad they finally felt they could tell others. See what her reaction is. I do know that a parent almost always prefers to learn about something like this directly from their child rather than second-hand from someone else.

Your mom may find a new community to interact with and develop friendships with, online groups like Mama Dragons or Lift+Love, or even other parents in your ward and stake who have queer children. Coming out may make her life less lonely if she chooses to become an ally and engage with others.

One thing about coming out is you suddenly have a voice. Things you couldn't say before now can be spoken. Once you're out to your mom, you can tell her of this strong impression to help other LGBTQ+ people at church. You can let her know you want to be out to people at church.

You asked if there's things you can do to prepare or something you should wait for. The main thing is since you rely on your mom, you don't have to put yourself in danger if you think she'd respond negatively. However, my observation is when a person is wanting to come out and it thinking about it a lot, it's their time. It takes a lot of courage to do, there's never the "perfect" moment, and there's multiple ways to do it. Most queer people manage to come out and that's proof that we're a brave people.

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As for your extended family, what happens if/when they find out? Do they have such influence over you and your mother's life that they could make life difficult? If it's mostly you see them at family functions, the first time or two after they find out may be awkward, but usually people adjust and life moves on.

Last week someone told me that his approach to coming out to friends, extended family, and co-workers is he tells them what sort of reaction he wants from them and doesn't give them the chance to make it about themselves by asking what they're thinking or feeling. For example, "I have something important I want to share with you because I know you'll react in a positive, affirming way. I'm gay and it's an important part of who I am, and since we're friends I wanted to be sure you knew this about me."

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There is so much work to be done for LGBTQ+ people at church. You'll have to figure out with the Lord what you're to do.

For most such work, you'll have to come out as queer or as an ally. As scary as that is, it gives you power.

You can choose to tell people individually. If you want to come out to a wider group, you could make a post on social media, you can mention it in class. Once people know you're friendly to queer people, they will tend to find you.

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You're phrase that you're "unrepentantly queer," I like that. There's nothing to repent of simply because you're queer. I'm glad you know this.

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You're approaching an inflection point, which is an event that results in a significant change in your path & progress. Change involves risk and that can be uncomfortable. I wish you all the best.

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sweetfirebird · 3 years

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Fake-ass "feminists" (GC's) on Twitter with "the daughters of the witches you couldn't/didn't burn" in their bios (one had "daughter of the witches you forgot to burn" in her bio which lol they just forgot. Oopsy doodle!)... are like evil obviously but also so funny.

Yeah, I mean, a lot of the witchcraft charges were made against outspoken women or midwives or single women who owned property someone wanted, (I mean, much like the Inquisition, sometimes it's about true religious zealotry but sometimes, it's just about the money), and the apparatus for finding and punishing witches (civil governments working with the Church) was almost entirely male because that was the power structure at the time (still mostly is) and yes it was super sexist. About everything.

I mean, a lot A LOT of women died. But, firstly, there was not some feminist distinction in the charge of witchcraft? It was not witches (f) and wizards (m) on some weird binary, it was 'trafficking with the Devil' and 'witchcraft', and whether those were mass hysteria events or not, a lot of people believed in the witchcraft part. Yes, sexism was alive and well, and so was greed, but when you get scapegoating events (or again, possible mass hysteria events), it is because other social and political factors are at play. The witch trials are an expression of something that was happening at those times, with outcasts, the disabled, weirdos, the poor, queer people, and yes women, lots of women, as the ones bearing the brunt of it. This is a pattern throughout Western/European history. You will find that these groups tend to bear the brunt of everything. Singling out only one for one factor (women) ignores the other factors (disabled women. weird women. unmarried women. the race and ethnicity and religion of the women.) as well as all the others who suffered with them.

These "feminists" are using a horrible, horrible series of crimes to make themselves look defiant and brave even though they were not alive then and probably would have done anything to avoid such a charge if they had been. Hundreds if not thousands of people suffered and died during the course of these trials... maybe modern day ladies shouldn't be using that for gotcha points along with their little British GC colors or whatever.

Fuck, even in America and the Salem Trials, there was a gender component in the accusations and the charges, sure. There were also a lot of other political and social things going on, and it is erasing the actual history by ignoring that, and also yes, they punished and executed men and women who were accused of witchcraft. (We didn't burn them here though, so, I guess they wouldn't put that example in their twitter bios anyway. "We are the daughters of the women and men who did confess to being witches so they wouldn't be hanged or pressed.").

These "feminists" use it because it sounds dramatic. It makes them feel like they are standing before a bonfire, calling out their accusers, when in fact they are... not doing any of that. That is the image they want to cultivate. They are the virtuous and innocent women, perhaps bound, but who will not be gagged, spitting in the face of the cruel system that is *checks notes* asking them to leave trans people and in particular trans women alone, and also to just mind their own damn business.

It is far less dramatic to say that you are the daughter of a woman who grew up with a Catholic mother who was miserable and always exhausted and pregnant and never had a moment to herself. Or you are the daughters of the women who married men they didn't love for economic reasons because women did not have jobs outside the home and couldn't even have their own bank accounts. Or you are the daughters of women who are the daughters of women who got married because compulsory heterosexuality was (is) the the norm. Or you are the daughters of women who survived a back alley abortion. Or you are the daughters of women who are the daughters of women who marched for civil rights. Or you are the daughters of women who didn't survive a back alley abortion. Or you are the daughters of people who might not have identified as women if that option had been available to them. Or you are the daughters of women who didn't know how their own bodies worked and told you stuff like do not take a shower or a bath while you're on your period. Or you are the daughters of women who liked their marriage and loved their husbands. Or, you are the daughters of lesbians who lived and loved and got jobs and got married and had kids and were (somewhat) legally protected because drag queens and trans women of color fought back against the police and helped jump start a movement.

There is a lot of history they could be talking about here but...that does not position them as heroic victims.

(Also just like, as a sidenote, calling the women who made it through the witch trials "witches" just seems odd. Again, a lot of these people believed in witchcraft as a real and serious charge. What are you doing? This does not honor them.)

#again i say again that GCs and TERFs are so evil and yet so pathetic

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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All this trans!Nie Mingjue really makes me want some trans!Jiang Cheng, and if you want too, maybe him ending out pregnant instead of his core being melted, because if I remember correctly Wen Zhuli was honorable, so if Jiāng Cheng did get raped by one of his subordinates, I feel he’d try too limit Jiang Cheng’s suffering.

“It’s not that I’m especially opposed to an alliance by marriage, but who were you planning on having marry in?” Nie Mingjue asked Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu politely.

They blinked at him.

“I think,” Madame Yu said dryly, after a few minutes, “that we were planning on A-Cheng marrying in. Women usually do.”

“But your son isn’t a woman,” Nie Mingjue said, which he thought was quite reasonable.

“I don’t have a son,” Jiang Fengmian said. “Only two daughters.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “You have an older daughter and a younger son. Hasn’t he told you?”

“Ah, you mean – by Qinghe standards,” Jiang Fengmian said. He sounded uncomfortable with the idea, which made Nie Mingjue’s eyes narrow and Jiang Fengmian immediately drop the notion of saying something more along those lines. After all, Nie Mingjue himself was a man ‘by Qinghe standards’, as the other sect leader put it, and starting trouble with Qinghe wasn’t on the agenda for today. “Sect Leader Nie, I appreciate your concern, but my daughter –”

“Son.”

“My daughter is a woman. We don’t practice Qinghe ways here.”

“It doesn’t really matter what you practice in the Lotus Pier,” Nie Mingjue said. He was wearing his best pleasant smile, which most people said looked like he was about to start chopping people into pieces. It was, at the moment, a fair description. “From my perspective, with my Qinghe ways, you have a son, who is a man. However you wish to treat him or raise him is up to you, of course, and I’m still willing to arrange a marriage between him and Huaisang, to be maintained or cancelled at their will when they’re older, including a marriage in which Jiang Cheng marries into the Unclean Realm. But what I will not tolerate is Huaisang getting confused by being told on one hand that he has a wife and the other a husband. He’s very fragile after our father’s death; I’m sure you understand.”

Jiang Fengmian, who’d been about to protest, shut his mouth, his desire for Nie Mingjue not to bring up, yet again, the fact of his father’s murder at the hands of Wen Ruohan – a murder that would need to be answered for, one day – outweighing his desire to argue back.

It was a petty move, but Nie Mingjue was aware that he had very few cards to play against the older and more influential man, and that meant he had to use them all no matter how petty to get what he wanted.

Mostly, in this case, for Jiang Cheng to be treated the way he so obviously identified. The damage that could be done by people who didn’t understand this sort of thing was incalculable – it was worth sticking his nose into another family’s business, no matter how rude, to try to make a difference if he could.

There were long few minutes of silence, in which Nie Mingjue stood his (tenuous) ground and Jiang Fengmian considered possible responses that would result in even more awkwardness.

Just at the point that it was getting intolerable, Madame Yu snorted, a surprisingly inelegant sound for such a refined woman.

“Let him be a son and a husband, then,” she said, her voice a little waspish. “If he changes his mind later, he can resume being a daughter, and there will be no loss.”

It wasn’t exactly how Nie Mingjue had intended on settling Nie Huaisang’s marriage, but it seemed a worthwhile conclusion, even if Jiang Fengmian was clearly not entirely on board.

“Very well,” he said. “Are we agreed?”

The marriage was unofficially dissolved when the boys were twelve, if by ‘dissolved’ one meant that the entire Jiang sect had entirely forgotten that their young master had ever been a young mistress, even Jiang Fengmian. A casual comment to Madame Yu that she ought to consider finding someone to marry in to their sect so that the heir could be officially confirmed, rather than wasting him on a cutsleeve marriage out, was more than enough for the entire concept to be permanently misplaced.

(Not that he thought they would make a bad pair, but if that was the case they could always figure it out for themselves later on.)

As far as Nie Mingjue was concerned, that was the end of it.

And yet, years later, it was at Nie Mingjue’s tent in Heijan that Jiang Cheng came, a twisted expression on his face.

“I have a problem,” he said, and touched his stomach lightly in a place a little too far down to suggest a stomachache. “I don’t know what to do about it, and – when I was younger, Huaisang said – well. I thought you might have some insight.”

Nie Mingjue let Jiang Cheng into the tent and put up a silencing array behind him, the sort used to protect news delivered by the most important spies.

“I’m not sure what you want me to tell you,” he said honestly. “It’s not a problem I’ve encountered on a personal basis, if you understand my meaning. Do you want to keep it or not?”

Jiang Cheng settled down where Nie Mingjue led him, still grimacing. “I don’t know,” he said. “The idea of bearing a child for any one of them disgusts me beyond telling. But on the other hand, what did the child have to do with it? It seems unfair not to give it a chance to live.”

“It’s not a child yet,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. He could do math, and the fall of the Lotus Pier wasn’t that long ago. “There’s no way that it’s quickened this soon after. Right now, it’s a problem that can be eliminated with a bowl of medicine, if that’s what you want.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’m considering it. It’s only…on one hand, even if it’s not a child yet, it could be a child, if I let it. A Jiang child, with me as its father, and obviously my Jiang sect could use as many new members as possible, no matter what the other half of their biological origin. But on the other hand – wouldn’t it be irresponsible to carry a child now? I’m leading the Jiang sect’s efforts against the Wens, trying to avenge what they did to me, to my parents, to my sect, and a child would be a distraction from that…and Wei Wuxian, who might have helped me out, is still missing.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t comment on Wei Wuxian, even though he itched, as he often did, to remind Jiang Cheng that no matter how atrociously Jiang Fengmian had behaved – and no matter what the condition of his birth had been, legitimate and incorrectly categorized – he was the son and heir of the Jiang clan.

Not the child Jiang Fengmian had brought in and treated as if he’d been the son he’d never had.

(Really, Nie Mingjue didn’t understand places like Yunmeng. What was the point of not recognizing misaligned reincarnations like theirs? It wouldn’t make it any less true.)

“Depending on the way it affects you, you could be out in the fields for months still,” he said reasonably. “Certainly plenty of mothers in Qinghe don’t go into isolation until there’s only a few weeks left. And even if you aren’t, I can take charge on the battlefield while you consult on strategy from the backend, the same way you would if you’d been taken out of the field because of an injury – Lan Xichen is doing much the same thing, when he’s not acting as courier, and he’s doing it because he’s a terrible general rather than any logistical reason.”

“But it’s not an injury.”

Nie Mingjue frowned at him. “You’re making it very difficult to resist making some sort of pun about the Wen sect’s swords, Sect Leader Jiang, and I don’t even like that sort of crude humor.”

Jiang Cheng took a second to get it, then snorted. “I supposed you could say I got ‘stabbed’ a few times, yes.”

“Only a few times? They really are worthless dogs.”

And now Jiang Cheng was laughing, even though he was trying to stop himself. “That’s terrible, stop it…you know, I suppose, if you look at it from a certain perspective, I really am just suffering from – from post-stabbing complications.”

“Seems reasonable enough to me.” Nie Mingjue poured Jiang Cheng a cup of the tea that had already been cooling on his desk – a little rude, but better than wasting time making a new pot. “If you do decide to keep it, you can leave the child with Nie Huaisang once it’s born, if you like. He’s always liked children, and it’s not as if I’m going to let him get anywhere near a battlefield, now or ever.”

“Are you sure he’s not a woman?” Jiang Cheng asked. He sounded almost wistful, which suggested that the arranged marriage they’d set up so many years ago might even have a chance of resurrecting; Nie Mingjue would have to slip Nie Huaisang a hint. “With the fans and the birds and the pretty things –”

“He says he isn’t, and so he isn’t,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. “I admit it’d make it easier if he was. No one outside of Qinghe would question his below-average talent or his love of frivolities if he was a woman, however unfair that might be, and it’d make things easier for him.”

“You’d still yell at him to practice his saber.”

“Of course. What does saber have to do with gender?”

Jiang Cheng smiled and shook his head. “Thank you,” he said. “I still haven’t decided one way or another, but…it’s good to know there’s a way to do it, if I want, that doesn’t mean that – I’m not as brave as you. I don’t want people to know.”

“It’s not a matter of bravery,” Nie Mingjue said. “It’s common etiquette. Anyone who spends time thinking about another person’s genitals that isn’t planning on courting them is wasting their time.”

Jiang Cheng snickered. “No, I mean – people know about you, that you’re misaligned. You’ve never been shy about it.”

Nie Mingjue was pretty sure Jiang Cheng was thinking about the incident during a discussion conference some years back when he’d been shouting at Jin Guangshan over something or another – loud enough to be audible across half the city, it seemed, based on the number of people who talked about it afterwards – and ended the rant by telling the other sect leader to suck his non-existent dick.

“I’m not really a shy person,” he said dryly, and Jiang Cheng pressed his lips together in an evident attempt to avoid descending into giggles – he’s definitely thinking about the suck-my-dick comment. “Also, Qinghe is a bit more open about these things; it makes it easier, not having to explain exactly what it means or doesn’t mean. Don’t be too hard yourself.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t seem convinced, but nodded anyway.

“It’s not just that,” he said, though obviously it was, in some large part, that. Jiang Cheng’s complicated relationship with Wei Wuxian was proof of it, if nothing else. “It’s also – people can do math. I don’t want people thinking I’m weak, or a pushover.”

“No one who has seen you wield Zidian is likely to make that mistake,” Nie Mingjue said, but he could tell from the set of Jiang Cheng’s shoulders that that wasn’t enough. “It isn’t weakness, you know. Anyone can be captured, anyone can be tortured – some people will have to live without a leg or an arm, after what they suffered, and that’s the lucky ones that didn’t die. That’s all it ever is in war – just luck, good or bad. If I walked into a Wen ambush next week, I’d be as liable to complications from a Wen ‘stab’ as you, but it wouldn’t be because my strength wasn’t enough.”

“I guess,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s just – if I kept the child, people would have to know, wouldn’t they?”

“Says who? If you retire from the battlefield due to complications from an injury for a few months, then the assumption will be that you found out that you got some poor girl pregnant and took on the child once you knew. If you do want people to know that you carried it, well, children come and go at their own speed.” Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Let some gossip overhear you talking about how you were already carrying the Lotus Pier’s next heir before any Wen set a foot on Yunmeng soil, and everyone will put together the rest. You know how it goes.”

“I suppose I do, at that.”

“Huaisang could probably put together a convincing story,” Nie Mingjue said. “He’s really very good at identifying every possible point in time and place where someone could be having sex, even if the actual personalities involved make it highly unlikely. And then he illustrates it, usually.”

Jiang Cheng was smiling, and his shoulders were straight again – his burdens lifted, however temporarily.

Good.

“Let me know what you decide,” Nie Mingjue said. “I know just enough about medicine to be able to mix you up what you need using just the medicine I already keep in my general collection, so no one would need to know, if that’s what you choose. And if you choose the other way, well, I have the medicines to help support that, too.”

“You keep that much medicine?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard about the tendency of the Qinghe Nie towards qi deviations –” Of course he had. Everyone had. “– but we have a habit of keeping an awful lot of medicine on hand.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jiang Cheng said, and he was frowning a little, thoughtful, but not as stressed as he’d been earlier. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Nie Mingjue said. “Really, don’t. If I let it get out that I give advice, every misaligned sonofabitch that wants to get a promotion will start showing up at my door with problems that are really just an excuse to get a chat in with the sect leader, and then where will my troubles end?”

Jiang Cheng, who was dealing with similar problems, smirked. “That doesn’t seem like my problem. At least people know better than to ask anything of me.”

“That can change,” Nie Mingjue said threateningly. “I’ll get Huaisang on it; see what happens to your reputation then.”

Jiang Cheng held up his hands in surrender as he retreated.

Nie Mingjue wondered for a moment which way he’d pick, but then remembered that it wasn’t his business and also that there was a war on that needed his attention a bit more.

Personal problems could wait.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #I'm thinking of continuing this one #could be fun #trans JC #trans NMJ #pregnancy #discussion of abortion #Anonymous

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twig-soup · 2 years

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so when i finally accepted that i don't want men the way i'm "supposed" to and that i actually want women in that way, i still had a lot of unlearning to do. coming out (to myself, to my family) was just the beginning. there were still many aspects of queerness that made me uncomfortable, and i thought that having a mix of conservative and progressive beliefs on the subject made me unique, but really it just helped preserve my relationship with my conservative family and really i was being selfish, which i suspected deep down but had a very difficult time coming to terms with. i knew i was gay and there was no coming back from that revelation, and because i personally only identified with the L in LGBTQIA+ at the time, i let my conservative upbringing color my perception of people who were queer in different ways. i think, honestly, that i was so codependent with my parents that i blinded myself on purpose so i wouldn't lose them (in hindsight, maybe that might have been better. could have avoided the whole "stop crying over sodomy!" situation after my first sapphic relationship ended, and a lot else). it bothered me, though; at times it tore me up inside. the more i thought about it and the more i researched and participated in the community, the more i realized that i want to see A LOT more men in crop tops and short shorts. i want people to talk about sex as if they are not ashamed of having a body or experiencing sexual pleasure. i want a trans girl to announce her preferred pronouns and for it to be normal, not brave. i want people to talk about their multiple partners and be received with normal enthusiasm. i want people to wear elf ears to the store and paint their skin blue. and i even realized, upon seeing someone use she/they pronouns and feeling a flutter in my chest and reliving select childhood memories, that although gender was never a crisis for me like sexuality was, i am queer in other ways than just my sexuality. (this became longer than i thought it would be oops)

although a less life-changing discovery, this revelation was in some ways even bigger than the one about my sexuality. you don't have to identify as queer in multiple ways (or at all!!!!) in order to embrace people for all that they are, let's not get it twisted, but something just clicked for me then, and i saw with true clarity how much of my thinking was shaped by my parents' horrible and isolating outlook. like, before i came out, my family didn't believe that gay people loved each other. seriously. they taught me that the love between two men is not the same as love between a man and a woman and never can be, that gay relationships revolve around sex, that gay people are simply obsessed with their unnatural desires, all the queers are. but they were wrong! it's not about sex! it's never been about obsession with "unnatural desires"! and i always knew that, i screamed it at my parents, it's not about sex i love her!, but turns out it's even more than that. queerness goes beyond your personal experiences and i think more people should be reminded of that. queerness is about sex, actually, about virgins and whores and feeling sick of being shamed into silence, and it's about love, love between partners, between friends, between strangers, and it's about being proud of yourself and everyone else who lives and expresses themselves in a way that usually brings rejection, harassment, and discrimination. it's about recognizing that western society was designed specifically with cis straight white men in mind and no one else, that monogamous heterosexual marriages didn't have to be the standard, that gender roles didn't have to develop the way they did (or at all), that the reason you're uncomfortable seeing a face with a full beard and blue eyeshadow isn't because you're a free thinker but because you were taught to feel that way and haven't realized yet that you don't have to.

last year i went to my first pride celebration and it was delightful. the freaks were out and i was one of them. i kissed my girlfriend and the usual flash of panic, is someone going to shame us? hurt us?, wasn't there. there was a man wearing nothing but cutoff shorts and a really pretty bra. fat girls with bellies out. people who's gender i couldn't have assumed if i wanted to. a big grin on every single teenager's face. these were people my family and society taught me to judge and avoid, when in reality, these are the people i feel safe around, because i'm one of them. and i always knew that, but when you hear what your parents say about the freaks of the world, accepting that you're one of them is basically accepting that your parents don't like you, or wouldn't if they knew the real you, and that's a very painful thing. and listen, you don't think your brand of queerness is weird because it's yours, but can't you see? this mindset of "what is different from me is inherently lesser" is exactly the one that homophobes and transphobes have! and while it's not your fault that this was imprinted on you, it is your responsibility, as someone who wants acceptance for yourself, to change the way you think. how can you expect nonjudgement from others when you yourself have rigid standards of acceptance?

this post is for everyone but especially queers who are newly escaped or in the process of escaping their conservative upbringing. you're not unique for clinging to what is familiar and whatever logic you're using to explain away the validity of other weirdos like yourself is flawed and will never hold up against this one simple truth: being embraced wholly and completely, for everything you are, is a core human need, and nobody deserves to be denied that just because they look, act, or make life decisions that make you uncomfortable despite posing no actual threat to you whatsoever.

happy pride to all, and remember that whether you identify as part of the LGBTQIA+ community or you're just a freaky lil guy you deserve love and acceptance and that is a fact. regardless of where you're at on your journey i love you and i think your existence makes the world a better place.

#happy pride 🌈#just something to think about this month #2nd paragraph got away from me a bit but i hope i got my point across #love u guys #tw: coming out trauma

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midnight-in-town · 3 years

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Idk how much weight an anon's thoughts hold, but anyway. I'm bi GNC, and have a few parts of myself I still question, and am friends with other LGBTA people, one of my close friends being trans. When it comes to a lot changes to old LGBTA characters, or "adjusting them to modern views" many I know feel a certain discomfort because of how removed it feels. Like a label slapped onto a mannequin with weird preconceived modern ideas about the LGBTA, instead of a character who happens to be LGBTA.

Hello Anon and thanks for sharing! I’m sorry though, but I'm not sure what your ask is about? Is it related to Gren from Cowboy Bebop?

If so, I agree: it does bother me because Gren’s a war veteran, who was tried as a spy, put in jail and tortured and, upon learning that a trusted comrade was possibly the reason for his downfall, got seriously depressed thus took drugs that had a strong gynecomastia side effect.

One could argue that Gren possibly had feelings for Vicious in the original story, be it true romantic feelings or the expression of a need for comfort in a seriously traumatic time such as war, either way, I’d agree. As such, focusing on Gren as a LGBTA character, I don’t mind. In fact, I love LGBTA representation and I think it’s necessary to have it in fiction.

However, as a hardcore fiction fan and a big fan of the original story, I see no reason for its live adaptation to oversimplify a character by only focusing on its one controversial enough dimension so that it’d gain public approval because it’s “representation”.

Same with feminism: as much as I love and support a woman doing what she has to do to protect herself (*coughcough*Julia), I saw no necessity to change a brave and independent woman into an abused one who tricked her abuser and eventually became the antagonist she seemed to be fighting to free herself from.

So addressing controversial topics and adding representation? Sure, go ahead, i’m all for it. But not by oversimplifying complex characters who used to make a fine statement as themselves already.

As you said, sometimes it feels like representation is a label that can just be stuck as is onto a character or a plot and we’re expected not to complain because “at least it’s representation”. Well, I can’t agree with that: people are complex and so are fictional characters under the pen of their writers. So modern shows, books or ideas are expected to step up otherwise we’re allowed to call them out.

As you said Anon, you’re your own person and you admit that you’re still questioning yourself on some aspects that make you who you are, as a unique being. Ain’t no way we’re going to reduce you to being bi or GNC or an Anon. You’re you.

TL;DR I hate labels. I understand the need people have to find a place to belong and I respect that. But using labels in media often implies an oversimplification that I can’t abide by.

TL;DR 2 full offense but Gren in original CB has no common ground with Gren in Netflix CB 2021. They don’t even share the same hair color, LMAO.

Sorry if that is not related to what you were talking about. Have a good weekend Anon! :))

#cowboy bebo #julia #gren #acchan works 72 hours this week and needs to chill #STILL #representation in media is only good if it manages to represent the complexity of the topic that it focuses on #anon #answers

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bard-llama · 3 years

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Arthurian Legends in the Witcher ‘verse

Those who know me know that my first and truest love is to Arthurian Legends and everything else comes second. Like... it’s the special interest that stays while hyperfixations come and go (tho uh, been with the witcher for a WHILE now, though have changed fandoms within that). I did a study abroad in England while in college just to study Arthurian Legends. Spent my 19th bday at King Arthur’s birth place in Tintagel. Everything I know about medieval(ish) warfare and city planning and history and shit is ‘cause of King Arthur. Hell, my entire concept of leadership is informed by my version of Arthur. So yeah, I’m big into King Arthur.

Which OBVIOUSLY means I need to bring Arthur into the witcher. And because I’m a nerd, it’s gonna be very informed by reality to give it a little depth. Soooo:

Arthur of Undvik (aka Skellige is Wales now)

Okay, some folks may not know this, but the original (insofar as we can say) Arthuriain Legends come from Wales, not England. In fact, the invaders Arthur was fighting off were the Anglo-Saxons. This is really important context because the ‘original’ Arthur wasn’t a king - he was (we think) a war chieftan. It was only later when England (and later France) adopted the legends that things became more... imperialistic? Sort of? There was always an element of war, but originally, it was in the context of uniting the Bretons in order to fight off the Saxons. But when Christianity was brought in later, a lot of stuff was added and changed to align with that. Arthur became a wealthy (blonde, white) king with knights in shining armor to command. Those knights had Christian chivalric values and were noble and brave and went out searching for the holy grail and killed non-Christians, ‘cause that was the “right” thing to do. I mentioned imperialism because this is where it starts to come in - instead of uniting to fight invaders, the knights fight in holy wars (there was an obsession with placing Arthur directly in history when he’s probably actually an amalgamation of many people and originates waaaaaaayyyy before England or Christianity), and they spread their values wherever they go, because Camelot is PerfectTM and Moral (nevermind that the stories are mostly about the hollowness of some of those morals). tl;dr - the parts of the Arthurian Legends you’re probably most familiar with were additions made MUCH later by peoples who had technically stolen the legends from Wales. Those peoples were primary England and France. (Like Lancelot du Lac? Yeah, as you might be able to guess, French invention, because the tales needed more romance)

Okay, so how does this relate to the Witcher? In the Witcher world, I say that Arthur is the jarl of Undvik and is legendary in Skellige because he united the Isles to fight against invaders from the continent. To your average Skelliger, Arthur is Theirs and also he’s a warrior, not a poncy ass king.

But the legends weren’t confined to Skellige and as they spread across the continent, changes were made. Most especially, the Toussaintois people fell in love with Arthur and claimed him as their own - and gave him all those trappings of “civility” like a crown and a dazzling breastplate and knights in shining armor who live up to all the ideals of a romantic hero.

The Knights of the Round Table

The Knights of legend actually are quite similar to the Toussaintois knights (which is not incidental). So it would absolutely make sense for Toussaintois bards and poets and storytellers to invent their own versions (think fanfiction, but on a socially acceptable scale; King Arthur IS public domain, for the record) and those would spread based on which the audience likes best. Take a couple generations and it’s easy to claim that it’s “the true story” of Arthur, not that Skelliger wild man. Plus, their version has all these awesome quests with noble knights!

What I’m saying is: there is AT LEAST one Skelliger who is ready to fight that Toussaintois twig over who owns the Arthur legend.

Anyway, this all came up because I was looking for a theme to name all of the Strays of Spalla’s dogs (of course the Duke of Dogs travels with a kennel!) and @useless-empty-brain suggested Arthurian knights. So obviously I had to make the legends canonically exist in the Witcher!

This also seems a good time to remind people that bards weren’t just musicians! They were oral storytellers and documenters of history. So these tales would probably be published, because the Witcher world seems to have a printing press (& I made Gaunter its owner) and mass produced books. But the main way people would hear about the stories of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table would be through story and song. Each region probably has its own versions where they’ve substituted themselves in for the Skelligers or the Toussaintois, because what kid wouldn’t want to play King Arthur and pull the sword from the stone?

Holy shit, I’ve just realized that while I can play with historical versions of the legends, I can make my version the canonical Witcher one!!!! Heads up, yo, Arthur is not Christian, not straight, and actually thinks that commoners are people! (but no for real, I’m working on an original Arthurian legend novel and Arthur is trans and pan and a socialist)

Hmm, what would the impact of the continent’s own history have on the legends? Are some of the knights nonhumans? Or are most stories pretty notably anti-nonhuman? I shall have to think on this...

#the witcher #arthurian legends #king arthur #fic planning #worldbuilding #myths and legends

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cruisingthedemimonde · 3 years

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America’s Gay Men in WW2

World War Two was a “National Coming Out” for queer Americans.

I don’t think any other event in history changed the lives of so many of us since Rome became Christian.

For European queers the war brought tragedy.

The queer movement began in Germany in the 1860s when trans activist Karl Ulrichs spoke before the courts to repeal Anti-Sodomy laws. From his first act of bravery the movement grew and by the 1920s Berlin had more gay bars than Manhattan did in the 1980s. Magnus Hirschfeld’s “Scientific Humanitarian Committee” fought valiantly in politics for LGBT rights and performed the first gender affirmation surgeries. They were a century ahead of the rest of the world.

The Nazis made Hirschfeld - Socialist, Homosexual and Jew - public enemy number one.

The famous image of the Nazis burning books? Those were the books of the Scientific Humanitarian Committee. Case studies of the first openly queer Europeans, histories, diaries - the first treasure trove of our history was destroyed that day.

100,000 of us were charged with felonies. As many as 15,000 were sent to the camps, about 60% were murdered.

But in America the war brought liberation.

In a country where most people never even heard the word “homosexual” , historian John D’emilio wrote the war was “conducive both to the articulation of a homosexual identity and to the more rapid evolution of a gay subculture. (24)” The war years were “a Watershed (Eaklor 68)”

Now before we begin I need to give a caveat. The focus of this first post is not lesbians, transfolk or others in our community. Those stories have additional complexity the story of cisgender homosexual men does not. Starting with gay men lets me begin in the simplest way I can, in subsequent posts I’ll look at the rest of our community.

Twilight Aristocracy: Being Queer Before the War

I want us to go back in time and imagine the life of the typical queer American before the war. Odds are you lived on a farm and simply accepted the basic fact that you would marry and raise children as surely as you were born or would die. You would have never seen someone Out or Proud. If you did see your sexuality or gender in contrary ways you had no words to express it, odds are even your doctor had never heard the term “Homosexual. In your mind it was just a quirk, without a name or possible expression.

In the city the “Twilight Aristocracy” lived hidden, on the margins and exposed their queerness only in the most coded ways. Gay men “Dropping pins” with a handkerchief in a specific pocket. Butch women with key chains heavy enough to show she didn’t need a man to carry anything for her. A secret language of “Jockers” and “Nances” “Playing Checkers” during a night out. There is a really good article on the queer vernacular here

And these were “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.”

In public one must act as straight as possible. Two people of the same gender dancing could be prosecuted. Cross dressing, even with something as trivial as a woman wearing pants, would run afoul of obscenity laws.

The only spaces we had for ourselves were dive bars, run by organized crime. But even then one must be sure to be circumspect, and act straight. Anyone could be an undercover cop. If a gaze was held to long, or lovers kissed in a corner the bar would be raided. Police saw us as worthy candidates for abuse so beatings were common and the judge would do all he could to humiliate you.

Now Michael Foucault, the big swinging french dick of queer theory, laid out this whole theory about how the real policing in a society happens inside our heads. Ideas about sin, shame, normalcy, mental illness can all be made to control people, and the Twilight Aristocracy was no different.

While cruising a park at night, or settled on the sofa with a lifelong lover, the thoughts of Priests and Doctors haunted them. “Am I living in Sin? Am I someone God could love?” “Is this healthy? Have I gone mad? Is this a true love or a medical condition which requires cure?”

There was no voice in America yet healing our self doubt, or demanding the world accept us as we are. And that voice, the socialist Harry Hay, did not come during the war, but it would come shortly after directly because of it.

Johnny Get Your Gun… And are you now or ever been a Homosexual?

For the first time in their lives millions of young men crossed thousands of miles from their home to the front.

But before they made that brave journey they had another, unexpected and often torturous journey. The one across the doctor’s office at a recruiting station.

In the nineteenth century queerness moved from an act, “Forgive me Father I have sinned, I kissed another man” to something you are, “The homosexual subspecies can be identified by certain physical and psychological signs.”

These were the glory days of patriarchy and white supremacy, those who transgressed the line between masculine and feminine called the whole culture into question. So doctors obsessed themselves with queerness, its origins, its signs, its so called catastrophic racial consequences and its cure.

“Are you a homosexual?” doctors asked stunned recruits.

If you were closeted but patriotic, you would of course deny the accusation. But the doctor would continue his examination by checking if you were a “Real Man.”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Did you like playing sports as a kid?”

If you passed that, the doctor would often try and trip you up by asking about your culture.

“Do you ever go basketeering?” he would ask, remembering to check if there was any lisp or effeminacy in your voice.

Finally if the doctor felt like it he could examine your body to see if you were a member of the homosexual subspecies.

Your gag reflex would be tested with a tongue depressor. Another hole could be carefully examined as well.

Humiliating enough for a straight man. But for a gay recruit the consequences could be life threatening.

Medical authorities knew homosexuals were weak, criminal and mad. To place them among the troops would weaken unit cohesion at the very least, result in treachery at the worst. In civilian life doctors had much the same thing to say.

The recruit needed a cure. And a doctor was always ready. With talk therapy, hypnosis, drugs, electroshock and forced surgeries of the worst kinds there was always a cure ready at hand.

Thankfully the doctors were not successful in their task, one doctor wrote “for every homosexual who was referred or came to the Medical Department, there were five or ten who never were detected. (d’Emilio 25)”

Here’s the irony though, by asking such pointed and direct questions to people closeted to themselves it forced them to confront their sexuality for the first time.

Hegarty writes, “As a result of the screening policies, homosexuality became part of wartime discourse. Questions about homosexual desire and behavior ensured that every man inducted into the armed forces had to confront the possibility of homosexual feelings or experiences. This was a kind of massive public education about homosexuality. Despite—and be-cause of—the attempts to eliminate homosexuals from the military, men with same-sex desires learned that there were many people like themselves (Hegarty 180)”

And then it gave them a golden opportunity to have fun.

The 101st Airborn - Homosocial and Homosexual

“Homosocial” refers to a gender segregated space. And they were often havens for gay men. The YMCA for example really was a place for young gay men to meet.

Now the government was already aware of the kind of scandalous sexual behaviour young men can get up to when left to themselves. Two major government programs before the war, the Federal Transient Program and the Civilian Conservation Corps focused on unattached young men, but over time these spaces became highly suspect and the focus shifted to helping family men so as to avoid giving government aid to ‘sexual perversion’ in these homosocial spaces.

But with the war on there was no choice but to put hundreds of thousands of young men in their own world. All male boot camps, all male bases, all male front lines.

The emotional intensity broke down the barriers between men and the strict enforcement of gendered norms.

On the front the men had no girlfriend, wife or mother to confide in. The soldier’s body was strong and heroic but also fragile. Straight men held each other in foxholes and shared their emotional vulnerability to each other. Gender lines began to blur as straight men danced together in bars an action that would result in arrest in many American cities.

Bronski writes, “Men were now more able to be emotional, express their feelings, and even cry. The stereotypical “strong, silent type,” quintessentially heterosexual, that had characterized the American Man had been replaced with a new, sensitive man who had many of the qualities of the homosexual male. (Bronski 152)”

Homosexual men discovered in this environment new freedoms to get close to one another without arousing suspicion.

“Though the military officially maintained an anti-homosexual stance, wartime conditions nonetheless offered a protective covering that facilitated interaction among gay men (d’Emilio 26)”

Bob Ruffing, a chief petty officer in the Navy described this freedom as follows, ‘When I first got into the navy—in the recreation hall, for instance— there’d be eye contact, and pretty soon you’d get to know one or two people and kept branching out. All of a sudden you had a vast network of friends, usually through this eye contact thing, some through outright cruising. They could get away with it in that atmosphere. (d’Emilio 26) ”

Another wrote about their experience serving in the navy in San Diego, “‘Oh, these are more my kind of people.’ We became very chummy, quite close, very fraternal, very protective of each other. (Hegarty 180)”

Some spaces within the army became queer as well. The USO put on shows for soldiers, and since they could not find women to play parts, the men often dressed in drag. “impersonation. For actors and audiences, these performances were a needed relief from the stress of war. For men who identified as homosexual, these shows were a place where they could, in coded terms, express their sexual desires, be visible, and build a community. (Bronski 148)”

“Here you see three lovely “girls”

With their plastic shapes and curls.

Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?

We’ve got glamour and that’s no lie;

Can’t you tell when we swish by?

Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?”

The words camp and swish being used in the gay subculture and connected to effeminate gay men.

I would have to assume, more than a few transwomen gravitated to these spaces as well.

Even the battlefield itself provided opportunities for gay fraternization. A beach in Guam for example became a secret just for the gay troops, they called it Purple Beach Number 2, after a perfume brand.

This homoerotic space was not confined to the military, but spilled out into civilian life as well.

Donald Vining was a pacifist who stated bluntly his homosexuality to the recruitment board as his mother needed his work earnings, and if you wanted be a conscientious objector you had to apply to go to an objector’s camp. He became something of a soldier chaser, working in the local YMCA and volunteering at the soldier’s canteen in New York he hooked up with soldiers still closeted for a night of passion but many more who were open about who they were.

After the war he was left with a network of gay friends and a strong sense of belonging to a community. It was dangerous tho, he was victim of robberies he could not report because they happened during hook ups, but police were always ready to raid gay bars when they were bored. “It was obvious that [the police] just had to make a few arrests to look busy,” he protested in his diary. “It was a travesty of justice and the workings of the police department (d’Emilio 30).״

Now it might seem odd he was able to plug into a community like that, but over the war underground gay bars appeared across the country for their new clientele. Even the isolated Worcester Mass got a gay bar.

African American men, barred from combat on the front lines, were not entirely barred from the gay subculture in the cities. For example in Harlem the jazz bar Lucky Rendevous was reported in Ebony as whites and blacks “steeped in the swish jargon of its many lavender costumers. (Bronski 149)”

The Other War: Facing Homophobia

“For homosexual soldiers, induction into the military forced a sudden confrontation with their sexuality that highlighted the stigma attached to it and kept it a matter of special concern (d’Emilio 25)”

“They were fighting two wars: one for America, democracy, and freedom; the other for their own survival as homosexuals within the military organization. (Eaklor 68)”

Once they were in, they fell under Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: “Any person subject to this chapter who engages in unnatural carnal copulation with another person of the same or opposite sex or with an animal is guilty of sodomy. Penetration, however slight, is sufficient to complete the offense.”

Penalties could include five years hard labour, forced institutionalization or fall under the dreaded Section 8 discharge, a stamp of mental instability that would prevent you from finding meaningful employment in civilian life.

Even if one wanted nothing to do with fulfilling their desires it was still essential to become hyper aware of your presentation and behaviour in order to avoid suspicion.

Coming Home to Gay Ghettos

“The veterans of World War II were the first generation of gay men and women to experience such rapid, dramatic, and widespread changes in their lives as homosexuals. Bronski 154”

After the war many queer servicemen went on to live conventionally heterosexual lives. But many more returned to a much queerer life stateside.

Bob Ruffing would settle down in San Francisco. The city has always been a safe harbour for queer Americans, made more so as ex servicemen gravitated to its liberated atmosphere. The port cities of New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles became the prime destinations to settle. Vining’s partner joined him in New York, where they both immersed themselves in the gay culture.

Other soldiers moved to specific neighborhoods known for having small gay communities. San Francisco’s North Beach, the west side of Boston’s Beacon Hill, or New York’s Greenwich Village. Following the war the gay populations of these cities increased dramatically.

The cities offered parks, coffee houses and bars which became queer spaces. And drag performance, music and comedy became features of this culture.

These veterans also founded organizations just for the queer soldiers. In Los Angeles the Knights of the Clock provided a space for same sex inter racial couples. In New York the Veterans Benevolent Association would often see 400-500 homosexuals appear at its events.

A number of books bluntly explored homosexuality following the war, such as The Invisible Glass which tells the story of an inter racial couple in Italy,

“With a slight moan Chick rolled onto his left side, toward the Lieutenant. His finger sought those of the officer’s as they entwined their legs. Their faces met. The breaths, smelling sweet from wine, came in heavy drawn sighs. La Cava grasped the soldier by his waist and drew him tightly to his body. His mouth pressed down until he felt Chick’s lips part. For a moment they lay quietly, holding one another with strained arms.”

Others like Gore Vidal’s The City and the Pillar (1948), Fritz Peters’s The World Next Door (1949), and James Barr’s Quatrefoil (1950) explored similar themes.

In 1948 the Kinsey Report would create a public firestorm by arguing that homosexuality is shockingly common. In 1950 The Mattachine Society, a secretive group of homosexual Stalinists launched America’s LGBT movement.

References:

Michael Bronski “A Queer History of the United States”

John D’emilio “Coming Out Under Fire”

Vivki L Eaklor “Queer America: A GLBT History of America”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Lesbians

In 1947 General Eisenhower told a purple heart winning Sargeant Johhnie Phelps, “It's come to my attention that there are lesbians in the WACs, we need to ferret them out”.

Phelps replied, “"If the General pleases, sir, I'll be happy to do that, but the first name on the list will be mine."

Eisenhower’s secretary added “"If the General pleases, sir, my name will be first and hers will be second."

Join me again May 17 to hear the story of America’s Lesbians during the war.

#gay history #world war two #queer history #gay #lgbt

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fangirlshrewt97 · 3 years

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Stuttered Confessions and Soft Kisses

Fandom: Sense8

Pairing: Amanita Caplan x Nomi Marks

Read on AO3

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Nomi was walking on clouds. Well, not literally obviously, but she was pretty sure this weight-less sensation would be what it would feel like. Her heart felt like it was racing and also just the most full it had ever been. She didn’t even mind that the rain had left them stranded in under this bus stop, hell, she was ready to thank it and hope it continued for a while longer.

Here she was, nearly at the end of her fifth (fifth!) date with the single most incredible person she had ever met, and Nomi felt like she was in a dream. How was this her life?

She was not the type of girl things like this happened to. Like come on, meeting who was surely going to be the love of her life in a bookshop? Her saying yes to a date? And then again to a second one?

And yet. Here she was. As happy as all those sappy love songs always made puppy love out to be. She had always assumed that to be a load of crap. Maybe she owed them an apology for doubting the sentiment, but the music was still too sweet for her.

She did not want to burst the bubble, afraid of ruining the best thing that had ever happened to her. She had not told Amanita about …her. Not yet. About her past. Did it matter? Like, was it important Amanita know right now? What did it matter? The risks of telling the truth were far too great, and Nomi had never considered herself to be gambler.

Still. They had been on five dates. Nomi had come home from the first date of her most secret dreams, and she had known she needed to tell her. Even back then, it was obvious that Amanita was not just another person she would get to know and then move on from. Something about her was magnetic. Addictive. And also because she did not know what falling in love felt like, but she thought it was the endless butterflies in her stomach at the sight of Amanita’s smile, or the warmth that had spread and lingered through the night from her simple hug at the end of the night. Or maybe it was the perfect impression of her captivating eyes that had tattooed themselves into Nomi’s brain. Or maybe it was all of the above.

The risk though. The inevitable pain. Nomi was no stranger to pain, hell, she was more intimately familiar with pain than with this strange joy, which is why she needed to tell Amanita the truth. Because as much as it would hurt if Amanita decided to walk away, Nomi would always remember her for being the first partner she had had who had seen her. Truly seen her, and liked what she had seen.

So today.

She would tell her today.

At the end of their date.

She would tell Amanita.

Shit.

She did not want this rain to stop. The rain stopping meant they could walk to Nomi’s apartment. Meant it would be time for Nomi to confess. That Amanita would walk away.

She did not want to leave this little cocoon they were in, where Amanita was huddling close to Nomi, an arm slung across her waist, shivering slightly in the face of the rain’s chill. She did not want to walk towards her heartbreak.

Because this was her, right? In what world could she hope for a story that didn’t end with her heart broken? What frame of reference did she have for unfettered happiness?

“Bloody rains never rain when one is inside, always insist on ruining lovely days.” Amanita gritted through her teeth as she tried to wind her shawl tighter around herself.

Nomi hummed, mind still worrying over the coming confession. She glanced outside the glass of the bus stop they were standing in. “I don’t know. I always found rain to be cathartic. A way for the world to relieve itself of whatever burdens it had. I could stay comfortable in my room, inside my blankets, I slept easiest when it rained.”

Remembering herself, a faint blush painted her cheeks and she cleared her throat. “I mean , that is-”

Only to stop in the face of Amanita’s wide eyes and slightly open mouth.

Nomi ducked her head. “Sorry.”

Amanita shook her head vigorously. “Don’t apologize. That was beautiful. I had never thought of it like that.”

Nomi shrugged again, still keeping her eyes to the ground. Until she felt a soft touch to her temple, Amanita’s hand clammy where it was lightly cupping the side of her head. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I love to hear about how you see the world.”

The blush returned stronger than ever to Nomi’s cheeks.

Amanita’s lips quirked, and she leaned closer, making Nomi’s breath hitch. Just as Amanita was about to kiss her (their first kiss! Nomi’s brain was blue screening at the most inconvenient of times!) though, a car came roaring out of nowhere. Speeding down the road so fast it sprayed them with the puddle water, making them jump apart.

Nomi reached to grab Amanita’s wrist as the other woman shouted curses at the long gone car. When Amanita turned to face her, Nomi knew she must be in love. Even with dirty water dripping down her face, and eyes fuming with outrage, Amanita was the most magnificent sight she had seen.

Unable to help herself, she started laughing. Amanita scowled at her for another moment before cracking, and soon they were both leaning on each other as they laughed. When she finally caught her breath, Nomi straightened up and reached into her bag, pulling out some wipes. Passing a couple to Amanita, she wiped off her glasses, and then her face.

“And here I was thinking this date was like something out of a dream.” Amanita muttered as she threw their wipes into the nearby trash can.

Nomi just grinned, “I like this better. Because it makes it more real.”

Amanita’s shoulders dropped as she seemed to soften. “Yeah, I suppose there is that.”

Feeling brave, Nomi approached Amanita, one hand tentatively cupping the shorter woman’s cheek. Amanita leaned into her hand, eyes lighting up in anticipation.

Swallowing down the fear, Nomi leaned down and kissed her.

It wasn’t a “fireworks” or “angels singing” kind of kiss. It was soft lips on chapped lips, gentle hands cradling one another, two people sharing a connection with the potential to grow into so much more.

It was real, and it was perfect.

When they parted, they stayed close, leaning their foreheads against each other.

Nomi was afraid to open her eyes, afraid that this would all have actually been an elaborate fantasy her mind had made up. Her breath shook, and only Amanita’s wounded noise and finger brushing away a tear made her realize she was crying.

“Nomi? What’s wrong?” Amanita whispered.

Nomi just shook her head, body trembling as the words lodged themselves in their throat.

“Oh honey.” Amanita said, so gently, and folded her into her arms, Nomi clutching at her sides, trying to calm down and push down the sobs that kept rising up.

Amanita held her through it, calmly rubbing at her back, her other hand curved around the back of her head. When Nomi was able to see past the tears, she stepped away, arms wrapping themselves tightly against her chest in a gesture she had become familiar to over many years of missing touches. Amanita recognized she needed space and gave it to her, leaving another immense wave of gratitude to flow through Nomi. She did not think she could do this if Amanita was touching her. Wasn’t sure she could do it otherwise either, but if not now, then. Then, she might not survive whenever Amanita left.

“You need to know something.” Nomi said.

Amanita blinked, then nodded hesitantly.

“I-um. It’s important. It’s a part of me. And I can’t. If this can be more. And I want it to be. You need to know. Now.” Nomi stuttered.

Amanita released a breath. “Okay. What do I need to know?”

Here it was.

The moment of truth.

The moment of heartbreak.

The moment where all the love and concern in Amanita’s eyes would leave. Nomi knew her enough to not disrespect her by thinking she’d be disgusted.

“I.” Nomi straightened her spine, taking in a deep breath and exhaling. “I’m trans. I wasn’t born… I am a woman.” she finished. She was a woman. Had been one from birth. No matter whatever anyone else had to say about it.

“Oh.” Amanita said.

Nomi’s eyes focused beyond her shoulder, heart racing with fear. She couldn’t meet the other woman’s eyes. Not until she came close enough for Nomi to feel her body heat.

Nomi fought to keep the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes from falling.

“Would you please look at me?” Amanita asked, voice gentle.

Clenching her jaw, Nomi inhaled once, eyes closing. When she exhaled, she opened her eyes. Amanita’s dark eyes were sparkling in the streetlight.

She let out a sob when she saw the same love and concern there, along with something that almost looked like pride.

“Can I hug you?” Amanita asked. Through blurry vision, Nomi nodded, letting Amanita embrace her again.

Where the last hug had felt like a desperate grasp to the last bit of comfort and affection she would receive, this one was so much more. This one felt like home.

“Thank you so much for sharing that with me Nomi. And I am so sorry that you have been caused so much pain because of that. The world is so stupid and it sucks. But I promise you. It is not a deal breaker for me.”

Nomi’s shoulders kept trembling.

“You are perfect just as you are. And anyone who has ever made you think otherwise can go fuck off. Do you hear me?”

Nomi let out a watery chuckle, and felt Amanita press a smile to the side of her temple.

“I would really like to go on another date with you. How does that sound?” Amanita whispered in her ear.

Nomi clutched her tighter. “Like a dream come true.”

Amanita laughed and nudged her upright, grinning so brightly, Nomi felt blinded. “Let’s get you home. Sooner I drop you off, sooner I can pick you up for our next date.”

This time, Amanita was the one who kissed her.

Nomi opened her eyes as soon as it was over. She did not want to miss a single moment with Amanita. Because this wasn’t a dream, and that made it so much better.

#my fic #my writing #sense8 #amanita caplan #nomi marks #nomanita #sense8 fic #let me know what you think!

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collegeburnoutsuperstar · 4 years

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2021 Book Recommendations

Way back in March 2020, at the very start of quarantine I did a little quarantine-read book rec list. We are now in 2021 and we are still in quarantine, so here’s an updated book rec post to help you through a socially distanced winter break and holiday season.

Non-Fiction:

Zami: A New Spelling of My Name | Audre Lorde | Adult | Memoir | LGBTQ | Zami provides a detailed look into Lorde’s life growing up in the 30s, 40s, and 50s as a young, poor, lesbian, black woman. Discussion focuses primarily on racism, poverty, and sexuality. | Trigger/Content Warnings: rape, suicide\suicide attempts, death, racism, abortion, mentions of cancer, mentions of abuse, sex.

Redefining Realness | Janet Mock | Adult | Memoir | LGBTQ | “This powerful memoir follows Mock’s quest for identity, from an early, unwavering conviction about her gender to a turbulent adolescence in Honolulu that saw her transitioning during the tender years of high school, self-medicating with hormones at fifteen, and flying across the world alone for sex reassignment surgery at just eighteen. With unflinching honesty, Mock uses her own experiences to impart vital insight about the unique challenges and vulnerabilities of trans youth and brave girls like herself” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: underage prostitution, transphobia, bullying.

An Autobiography | Angela Y. Davis | Adult | Memoir | A story of racism, discrimination, imprisonment, and Communism; “the author, a political activist, reflects upon the people and incidents that have influenced her life and commitment to global liberation of the oppressed” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: racism, murder, violence, police brutality.

Before Night Falls | Reinaldo Arenas | Adult | Memoir | LGBTQ | “Cuban writer Reinaldo Arenas describes his poverty-stricken childhood in rural Cuba, his adolescence as a rebel fighting for Fidel Castro, and his life in revolutionary Cuba as a homosexual. Very quickly, the Castro government suppressed his writing and persecuted him for his homosexuality until he was final imprisoned” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: underage sexual experiences with other minors, statutory rape, bestiality, incest, graphic descriptions of sex, suicide attempts, mentions of suicide, mentions of AIDs, homophobia.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings | Maya Angelou | Adult | “Sent by their mother to live with their devout, self-sufficient grandmother in a small Southern town, Maya and her brother endure the ache of abandonment and the prejudice of the local ‘powhitetrash’. At eight years old and back at her mother’s side in St. Louis, Maya is attacked by a man many times her age-- and has to live with the consequences for a lifetime. Year later, in San Francisco, Maya learns that love for herself, the kindness of others, her own strong spirit, and the ideas of great authors will allow her to be free instead of imprisoned” (Goodreads).

Notes of a Native Son | James Baldwin | Adult | Essay Collection | “Written during the 1940s, when Baldwin was only in his twenties, the essays collected in Notes of a Native Son capture a view of black life and black thought at the dawn of the Civil Rights movement and as the movement slowly gained strength through the words of one of the most captivating essayists and foremost intellectuals of that era. Writing as an artist, activist, and social critic, Baldwin probes the complex condition of being black in America. With a keen eye, he examines everything from the significance of the protest novel to the motives and circumstances of the many black expatriates of the time” (Amazon).

Contemporary Fiction:

Alex in Wonderland | Simon James Green | Young Adult | Romance | LGBTQ | “ In the town of Newsands, painfully shy Alex is abandoned by his two best friends for the summer. But he unexpectedly lands a part-time job at Wonderland, a run-down amusement arcade on the seafront, where he gets to know the other teen misfits who work there. Alex starts to come out of his shell, and even starts to develop feelings for co-worker Ben... who, as Alex's bad luck would have it, has a girlfriend. Then as debtors close in on Wonderland and mysterious, threatening notes start to appear, Alex and his new friends take it on themselves to save their declining employer. But, like everything in Wonderland, nothing is quite what it seems” (Goodreads).

Red, White & Royal Blue | Casey McQuiston | New Adult | Romance | LGBTQ | First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz, son of United States President Ellen Claremont, finds himself back in the public eye after a confrontation with his nemesis, His Royal Highness Prince Henry, at a royal wedding. The only way to save American/British relations from crumbling: Create a fake friendship between Alex and Henry. But what happens when this fake friendship becomes something more? How will these two young men go down in history?

Fifty Shames of Earl Gray | Fanny Merkin | Adult | Parody/Humor | Very Heterosexual | “ Young, arrogant, tycoon Earl Grey seduces the naïve coed Anna Steal with his overpowering good looks and staggering amounts of money, but will she be able to get past his fifty shames, including shopping at Walmart on Saturdays, bondage with handcuffs, and his love of BDSM (Bards, Dragons, Sorcery, and Magick)? Or will his dark secrets and constant smirking drive her over the edge?” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: the is a parody of Fifty Shades of Grey...

Historical Fiction:

Water Music | T. Coraghessan Boyle | Adult | Adventure | “Set in the late eighteenth century, Water Music follows the wild adventures of Ned Rise, thief and whoremaster, and Mungo Park, a Scottish explorer, through London’s seamy gutters and Scotland’s scenic highlands to their grand meeting in the heart of darkest Africa. There they join forces and wend their hilarious way to the source of the Niger” (Goodreads).

The Island of the Day Before | Umberto Eco | Adult | Italian Literature | “After a violent storm in the South Pacific in the year 1643, Roberto della Griva finds himself shipwrecked-on a ship. Swept from the Amaryllis, he has managed to pull himself aboard the Daphne, anchored in the bay of a beautiful island. The ship is fully provisioned, he discovers, but the crew is missing. As Roberto explores the different cabinets in the hold, he remembers chapters from his youth: Ferrante, his imaginary evil brother; the siege of Casale, that meaningless chess move in the Thirty Years' War in which he lost his father and his illusions; and the lessons given him on Reasons of State, fencing, the writing of love letters, and blasphemy. In this fascinating, lyrical tale, Umberto Eco tells of a young dreamer searching for love and meaning; and of a most amazing old Jesuit who, with his clocks and maps, has plumbed the secrets of longitudes, the four moons of Jupiter, and the Flood” (Goodreads).

Brethren [Raised by Wolves series 1] | W. A. Hoffman | Adult | Adventure/Buccaneers | LGBTQ | “John Williams, the Viscount of Marsdale, libertine, duelist, dilettante, haphazard philanthropist and philosopher, is asked by his estranged father to start a plantation in Jamaica in 1667. He doesn’t realize that he is going to the right island for the wrong reasons until he meets buccaneers and learns he has for more in common with the wild Brethren of the Coast than he does with the nobility of Christendom. Still, he questions joining them and leaving his title and the plantation behind until her meets Gaston the Ghoul, a mysterious French buccaneer who is purportedly mad. He quickly decides that the freedom of buccaneer life [...] [is] better than anything he could ever inherit” (Goodreads). Trigger/Content Warnings: violence, mentions of rape, mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentions of abuse, mentions of incest, slavery, discussions of mental illness at a time when it is not really understood, descriptions of sex, alcohol use.

Captive Prince [The Captive Prince Trilogy 1] | C. S. Pacat | Adult | Historical-inspired Fiction | LGBTQ [more in later books] | Prince Damianos of Akielos finds himself captured and stripped of his true identity when someone close to the Prince makes a move for the throne. Part of the plot: ship the captured Prince to the enemy nation of Vere as a pleasure slave. In Vere, Damianos takes on a new identity, or else he would immediately be put to death by his new master, the Prince of Vere. Damianos quickly discovers that his capture and enslavement is not just an isolated incident, but is in fact part of a much larger plot that will drastically change the futures of both Akielos and Vere. | Trigger/Content Warnings: violence, torture, slavery/pleasure slaves [partially set within a culture that uses slaves], death, pedophilia, mentions of rape, descriptions of sex, suicide [in the second book]. DISCLAIMER: This trilogy has an enemies-to-lovers subplot, but it is in no way romanticizing slavery, rape, or violence. The romance subplot does not start until the characters undergo massive amounts of character growth and development.

11/22/63 | Stephen King | Adult | Time Travel | Thriller | Jake Epping, a thirty-five year old high school teacher English teacher and GED teacher from Maine embarks on a world-changing mission after a trip to the storeroom of his friend Al’s diner. Within the storeroom, Al has been hiding a secret, a secret that is objectively better than anything else that could’ve been hidden in a diner storeroom. Al has a portal to 1958. The mission: try to stop the Kennedy Assassination. Just remember, the current timeline may just be the best one. | Trigger/Content Warnings: death, violence, racism, domestic abuse, political assassination.

Adult Science Fiction & Fantasy:

The Rage of Dragons | Evan Winter | High Fantasy | “The Omehi people have been fighting an unwinnable fight for almost two hundred years. Their society has been billt around war and only war. The lucky ones are born gifted. One in every two thousand women has the power to call down dragons. One in every hundred men is able to magically transform himself into a bigger, stronger, faster killing machine. Everyone else is fodder, destined to fight and die in the endless war. Young, gift-less Tau knows all this, but he has a plan of escape. He is going to get himself injured, get out early, and settle down to marriage, children, and land. Only, he doesn’t get the chance. Those closest to him are brutally murdered and his grief swiftly turns to anger. Fixated on revenge, Tau dedicates himself to an unthinkable path. He’ll become the greatest swordsman to ever live, a man willing to die a hundred thousand times for the chance to kill the three who betrayed him” (Goodreads).

The Binding | Bridget Collins | Historical Fantasy | LGBTQ | While suffering from a mysterious illness, Emmett Farmer is sent away from his family to apprentice at a bookbinder’s workshop. But Emmett has been taught to hate books his whole life, they are dangerous and shameful. But under the instruction of the book binder, Emmett learns the secrets that books hold and uncovers a past that he didn’t even know he had. | Trigger/Content Warnings: homophobia, death, suicide, allusions to rape.

The House in the Cerulean Sea | T.J. Klune | Suitable for all ages | Urban Fantasy | LGBTQ | Don’t you wish you were here? Forty year old Linus Baker lives a lonesome, drear life. For seventeen years, Mr. Baker has worked as a case worker at the Department In Charge Of Magical Youth where he monitors the treatment of magical children in government-sanctioned orphanages. In a break from his usual routine, Mr. Baker is unexpectedly summoned by Extremely Upper Management and is assigned a highly classified and possibly dangerous case. He is sent to the Marsyas Island Orphanage where he meets the six dangerous children; a gnome, a sprite, a wyvern, a green blob, a were-Pomeranian, and the Antichrist, along with their caretaker Arthur Parnassus. At the the end of his stay, Mr. Baker must make a decision: Should he follow the rules, or protect a family?

Wolfsong [The Green Creak Series 1] | T.J. Klune | Paranormal/Shifter Romance | LGBTQ | “Ox was twelve when his daddy taught him a very valuable lesson. He said that Ox wasn’t worth anything and people would never understand him. Then he left. Ox was sixteen when he met a boy on the road, the boy who talked and talked and talked. Ox found out later the boy hadn’t spoken in almost two years before that day, and that the boy belonged to a family who had moved into the house at the end of the lane. Ox was seventeen when he found out they boy’s secret, and it painted the world around him in colors of red and orange and violet, of Alpha and Beta and Omega. Ox was twenty-three when murder can to town and tore a hole in his head and heart. The boy chased after the monster with revenge in his bloodred eyes, leaving Ox behind to pick up the pieces. It’s been three years since that fateful day-- and the boy is back. Except now he’s a man, and Ox can no longer ignore the song that howls between them” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: violence, death, age-gap romance.

The City of Dreaming Books | Walter Moers | German Fantasy | Absurd Fantasy | “Optimus Yarnspinner, a young writer, inherits from his beloved godfather an unpublished short story by an unknown author. His search for the author’s identity takes him to Bookholm-- the so-called City of Dreaming Books. On entering its streets, our hero feels as if he opened the door of a gigantic second-hand bookshop. His nostrils are assailed by clouds of book dust, the stimulating sent of ancient leather, and the tang of printer’s ink. Soon, though, Yarnspinner falls into the clutches of the city’s evil genius, Pfistomel Smyke, who treacherously maroons him in the labyrinthine catacombs underneath the city, where reading books can be genuinely dangerous” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: death, largely takes place in underground tunnels, illustrations can be unsettling.

Bored of the Rings: A Parody of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings | The Harvard Lampoon, Henry N. Beard, Douglas C. Kenney | NOT AT ALL FOR CHILDREN | Parody/Humor | Adventure | “A quest, a war, a ring that would be grounds for calling any wedding off, a king without a kingdom, and a little, furry ‘hero’ named Frito, ready-- or maybe just forced by the wizard Goodgulf-- to undertake the one mission which can save Lower Middle Earth from enslavement by the evil Sorhed. Luscious Elfmaidens, a roller-skating dragon, ugly plants that can soul-kiss the unwary to death-- these are just some of the ingredients in the wildest, wackiest, most irreverent excursion into fantasy realms that anyone has ever dared to undertake” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: drug/alcohol use.

Dune | Frank Herbert | Science Fiction/Science Fantasy | “Set on the desert planet Arrakis, Dune is the story of the boy Paul Atreides, heir to a noble family tasked with ruling an inhospitable world where the only thing of value is the ‘spice’ melange, a drug capable of extending life and enhancing consciousness. Coveted across the known universe, melange is a prize worth killing for. When house Atreides is betrayed, the destruction of Paul’s family will set the boy on a journey toward a destiny greater than he could ever have imagined” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: death, drug use.

The Magicians [The Magicians Trilogy 1] | Lev Grossman | Urban/Portal Fantasy | “Quentin Coldwater is brilliant but miserable. A senior in high school, he’s still secretly preoccupied with a series of fantasy novels he read as a child, set in a magical land called Fillory. Imagine his surprise when he finds himself unexpectedly admitted to a very secret, very exclusive college of magic in upstate New York, where he receives a thorough and rigorous education in the craft of modern sorcery. He also discovers all the other things people learn in college: friendship, love, sex, booze, and boredom. Something is missing, though. Magic doesn’t bring Quentin the happiness and adventure he dreamed it would. After graduation he and his friends make a stunning discovery: Fillory is real. But the land of Quentin’s fantasies turns out to be much darker and more dangerous than he could have imagined. His childhood dream becomes a nightmare with a shocking truth at its heart” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: drug/alcohol abuse, depression, death, rape [in book 2].

Mo Dao Zu Shi | Mo Xiang Tong Xiu | Wuxia/Chinese Fantasy | LGBTQ | “As the grandmaster who founded demonic cultivation, Wei WuXian roamed the world in his wanton ways, hated by millions for the chaos he created. In the end, he was backstabbed by his dearest shidi and killed by powerful clans that combined to overpower him. He incarnates into the body of a lunatic who was abandoned by his clan and is later, unwillingly, taken away by a famous cultivator among the sects-- Lan WanJi, his archenemy. This marks the start of a thrilling yet hilarious journey of attacking monsters, solving mysteries, and raising children[...] Along the way, Wei WuXian slowly realizes that Lan WanJi, a seemingly haughty and indifferent poker-face, holds more feelings for Wei WuXian than he is letting on” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: suicide, death, murder, violence, incest, rape (I think), abuse, abusive families.

The Eye of the World [The Wheel of Time series 1] | Robert Jordan | Epic Fantasy | Adventure | “The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and pass. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow. Let the Dragon ride again on the winds of time. The Wheel of Time Turns and Ages come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again. In the Third Age, an Age of Prophecy, the World and Time themselves hang in the balance. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow. When The Two-Rivers is attacked by Trollocs-- a savage tribe of half-men, half-beasts-- five villagers flee that night into a world they barely imagined, with new dangers waiting in the shadows and in the light” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: death, violence.

The Lies of Locke Lamora [Gentleman Bastard Series 1] | Scott Lynch | Heist Fantasy | “An Orphan’s life is harsh-- and often short-- in the mysterious island city of Camorr. But young Locke Lamora dodges death and slavery, becoming a thief under the tutelage of a gifted con artist. As leader of the band of light-fingered brothers known as the Gentleman Bastards, Locke is soon infamous, fooling even the underworld’s most feared ruler. But in the shadows lurks someone still more ambitious and deadly. Faced with a bloody coup that threatens to destroy everyone and everything that holds meaning in his mercenary life, Locke vows to beat the enemy at his own brutal game-- or die trying” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: death, violence, torture.

The Name of the Wind [The Kingkiller Chronicle 1] | Patrick Rothfuss | Epic Fantasy | “My name is Kvothe. I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths my moonlight that others fear to speak of during the day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep. You may have heard of me” (The Name of the Wind). | Trigger/Content Warnings: death, violence, abuse, book three still doesn’t have a release date.

Trick [Foolish Kingdoms 1] | Natalia Jaster | Fantasy Romance | LGBTQ | “There is only one rule amongst his kind: A jester doesn’t lie. In the Kingdom of Spring, Poet is renowned. He’s young and pretty, a lover of men and women, he performs for the court, kisses like a scoundrel, and mocks with a silver tongue. Yet allow him this: It’s only the most cunning, most manipulative soul who can play the fool. For Poet guards a secret. One the Crown would shackle him for. One that he’ll risk everything to protect. Alas, it will take more than clever words to deceive Princess Briar. Convinced that he’s juggling lies as well as verse, this righteous nuisance of a girl is determined to expose him. But not all falsehoods are fiendish. Poet’s secret is delicate, binding the jester to the princess in an unlikely alliance, and kindling a breathless attraction, as alluring as it is forbidden” (Goodreads).

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? | Philip K. Dick | Science Fiction | “It was January 2021, and Rick Deckard had a license to kill. Somewhere among the hordes of humans out there, lurked several rogue androids. Deckard’s assignment-- find them and then ‘retire’ them. Trouble was, the androids all looked exactly like humans, and they didn’t want to be found out” (Goodreads).

Young Adult Science-Fiction & Fantasy:

Cemetery Boys | Aiden Thomas | Urban Fantasy | Romance | LGBTQ | “Yadriel has summoned a ghost, and now he can't get rid of him. When his traditional Latinx family has problems accepting his true gender, Yadriel becomes determined to prove himself a real brujo. With the help of his cousin and best friend Maritza, he performs the ritual himself, and then sets out to find the ghost of his murdered cousin and set it free. However, the ghost he summons is actually Julian Diaz, the school's resident bad boy, and Julian is not about to go quietly into death. He's determined to find out what happened and tie off some loose ends before he leaves. Left with no choice, Yadriel agrees to help Julian, so that they can both get what they want. But the longer Yadriel spends with Julian, the less he wants to let him leave” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: transphobia, dead-naming.

In Other Lands | Sarah Rees Brennan | Urban/Portal Fantasy | LGBTQ | “The Borderlands aren’t like anywhere else. Don’t try to smuggle a phone or any other piece of technology over the wall that marks the Border—unless you enjoy a fireworks display in your backpack. (Ballpoint pens are okay.) There are elves, harpies, and—best of all as far as Elliot is concerned—mermaids. Elliot? Who’s Elliot? Elliot is thirteen years old. He’s smart and just a tiny bit obnoxious. Sometimes more than a tiny bit. When his class goes on a field trip and he can see a wall that no one else can see, he is given the chance to go to school in the Borderlands. It turns out that on the other side of the wall, classes involve a lot more weaponry and fitness training and fewer mermaids than he expected. On the other hand, there’s Serene-Heart-in-the-Chaos-of-Battle, an elven warrior who is more beautiful than anyone Elliot has ever seen, and then there’s her human friend Luke: sunny, blond, and annoyingly likeable. There are lots of interesting books. There’s even the chance Elliot might be able to change the world” (Goodreads).

The Fascinators | Andrew Eliopulos | Urban Fantasy | LGBTQ | “Living in a small town where magic is frowned upon, Sam needs his friends James and Delia—and their time together in their school's magic club—to see him through to graduation. But as soon as senior year starts, little cracks in their group begin to show. Sam may or may not be in love with James. Delia is growing more frustrated with their amateur magic club. And James reveals that he got mixed up with some sketchy magickers over the summer, putting a target on all their backs. With so many fault lines threatening to derail his hopes for the year, Sam is forced to face the fact that the very love of magic that brought his group together is now tearing them apart—and there are some problems that no amount of magic can fix” (Goodreads).

Things Not Seen | Andrew Clements | Science Fiction | Realistic Fiction | “Bobby Philips is an average fifteen-year-old boy. Until the morning he wakes up and can’t see himself in the mirror. Not blind, not dreaming. Bobby is just plain invisible. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to Bobby’s new condition; even his dad the physicist can’t figure it out. For Bobby that means no school, no friends, no life. He’s a missing person. Then he meets Alicia. She’s blind, and Bobby can’t resist talking to her, trusting her. But people are starting to wonder where Bobby is. Bobby knows that his invisibility could have dangerous consequences for his family and that time is running out. He has to find out how to be seen again before it’s too late” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: Car accident.

Howl’s Moving Castle [Howl’s Moving Castle series 1] | Diana Wynne Jones | Fantasy | Portal Fantasy | Adventure | “Sophie has the great misfortune of being the eldest of three daughters, destined to fail miserably should she ever leave home to seek her fate. But when she unwittingly attracts the ire of the Witch of the Waste, Sophie finds herself under a horrid spell that transforms her into an old lady. Her only chance at breaking it lies in the ever-moving castle in the hills: the Wizard Howl’s castle. To untangle the enchantment, Sophie must handle the heartless Howl, strike a bargain with a fire demon, and meet the Witch of the Waste head-on. Along the way, she discovers that there’s far more to Howl --and herself-- than first meets the eye” (Goodreads).

Castle in the Air [Howl’s Moving Castle series 2] | Diana Wynne Jones | Fantasy | Adventure | “In which a humble young carpet merchant wins, then loses, the princess of his dreams. Far to the south of the land of Ingary, in the Sultanates of Rashpuht, there lived in the city of Zanzib a young and not very prosperous carpet dealer named Abdullah who loved to spend his time daydreaming. He was content with his life and his daydreams until, one day, a stranger sold him a magic carpet. That very night, the carpet flew him to an enchanted garden. There, he met and fell in love with the beauteous princess Flower-in-the-Night, only to have her snatched away, right under his very nose, by a wicked djinn. With only his magic carpet and his wits to help him, Abdullah sets off to rescue his princess” (Goodreads).

A Wizard of Earthsea [Earthsea Cycle 1] | Ursula K. Le Guin | Fantasy | “Ged, the greatest sorcerer in all Earthsea, was called Sparrowhawk in his reckless youth. Hungry for power and knowledge, Sparrowhawk tampered with long-held secrets and loosed a terrible shadow upon the world. This is the tale of his testing, how he mastered the mighty words of power, tamed an ancient dragon, and crossed death’s threshold to restore the balance” (Goodreads).

Middle-Grade/Children’s Fiction:

Island of the Aunts | Eva Ibbotson | Middle-Grade | Fantasy | Adventure | “When the kindly old aunts decide that they need help caring for creatures who live on their hidden island, they know that adults can’t be trusted. What they need are a few special children who can keep a secret-- a secret as big as a magical island. And what better way to get children who can keep really big secrets, than to kidnap them! (After all, some children just plain need to be kidnapped.)” (Goodreads).

Ruby Holler | Sharon Creech | Middle-Grade | Realistic Fiction | Adventure | “Brother and sister Dallas and Florida are the ‘trouble twins.’ In their short thirteen years, they’ve passed through countless foster homes, only to return to their dreary orphanage, Boxton Creek Home. Run by the Trepids, a greedy and strict couple, Boxton Creek seems impossible to escape. When Mr. Trepid informs the twins that they’ll be helping old Tiller and Sairy Morey go on separate adventures, Dallas and Florida are suspicious. As the twins adjust to the natural beauty of the outdoors, help the Tillers prepare for their adventures, and foil a robbery, their ultimate search for freedom leads them home to Ruby Holler” (Goodreads).

The Westing Game | Ellen Raskin | Middle-Grade | Realistic Fiction | Mystery | “A bizarre chain of events begins when sixteen unlikely people gather for the reading of Samuel W. Westing’s will. And though no one knows why the eccentric, game-loving millionaire has chosen a virtual stranger --and a possible murderer-- to inherit his vast fortune, one thing’s for sure: Sam Westing may be dead... but that won’t stop him for playing one last game!” (Goodreads).

Midnight for Charlie Bone [The Children of the Red King series 1] | Jenny Nimmo | Middle-Grade | Urban Fantasy | “Charlie Bone has a special gift-- he can hear people in photographs talking! The fabulous powers of the Red King were passed down through his descendants, after turning up quite unexpectedly, in someone who had no idea where they came from. This is what happened to Charlie Bone, and to some of the children he met behind the grim, gray walls of Bloor’s Academy. His scheming aunts decide to send him to Bloor’s Academy, a school for geniuses where he uses his gifts to discover the truth despite all the dangers that lie ahead” (Goodreads). | Trigger/Content Warnings: abusive family situations (mental and emotional), bullying, some parts can be creepy/spooky.

The Maze of Bones [The 39 Clues series 1 ] | Rick Riordan (the series is written by several different authors) | Middle-Grade | Mystery | Adventure | Action | “When their beloved aunt --matriarch of the world’s most powerful family-- dies, orphaned siblings Amy and Dan Cahill compete with less honorable Cahill descendants in a race around the world to find cryptic clues to a mysterious fortune” (Goodreads). Trigger/Content Warnings: Death, house fire, dead parents, abusive family.

The Doll People | Ann M. Martin | Middle-Grade | Fantasy | Adventure | “Annabelle Doll is 8 years old --and has been for over 100 years. Nothing much has changed in the dollhouse during that time, except for the fact that 45 years ago, Annabelle’s Auntie Sarah disappeared from the dollhouse without a trace. After all this time, restless Annabelle is becoming more and more curious about her aunt’s fate. And when she discovers Auntie Sarah’s old diary, she becomes positively driven. Her cautious family tries to discourage her, but Annabelle won’t be stopped, even though she risks Permanent Doll State, in which she could turn into a regular, nonliving doll. And when the ‘Real Pink Plastic’ Funcraft family moves in next door, the Doll family’s world is turned upside down --in more ways than one!” (Goodreads). | Content Waring: It’s living dolls, this is off-putting to many people.

Bud, Not Buddy | Christopher Paul Curtis | Middle-Grade | Historical Fiction | Realistic Fiction | “It’s 1936, in Flint Michigan. Times may be hard, and ten-year-old Bud may be a motherless boy on the run, but Bud’s got a few things going for him: He has his own suitcase full of special things. He’s the author of Bud Caldwell’s Rules and Things for Having a Funner Life and Making a Better Liar Out of Yourself. His momma never told him who his father was, but she left a clue: flyers advertising Herman E. Calloway and his famous band, the Dusky Devastators of the Depression!!!!!! Bud’s got an idea that those flyers will lead him to his father. Once he decides to hit the road and find this mystery man, nothing can stop him --not hunger, not fear, not vampires, not even Herman E. Calloway himself” (Goodreads).

The Thief Lord | Cornelia Funke | Middle-Grade | Fantasy | Adventure | Mystery | “Two orphaned children are on the run, hiding among the crumbling canals and misty alleyways of the city of Venice. Befriended by a gang of street children and their mysterious leader, the Thief Lord, they shelter in an old, disused cinema. On their trail is a bungling detective, obsessed with disguises and the health of his pet tortoises. But a greater threat to the boys’ new-found freedom is something from a forgotten past --a beautiful magical treasure with the power to spin time itself” (Goodreads).

Igraine the Brave | Cornelia Funke | Middle-Grade | Fantasy | Adventure | “Igraine dreams of being a famous knight like her great-grandfather, but castle life is boring. Until the nephew of the baroness-next-door plans to capture the castle for their singing spell books. At the moment of the siege, her parents mistakenly turn themselves into pigs. Aided by a Gentle Giant and a sorrowful Knight, Igraine must by brave, and save the day --and the books” (Goodreads).

Valley of the Dinosaurs [Magic Tree House series 1] | Mary Pope Osborne | Children’s Literature | Science Fiction (time travel) | “Eight-year-old Jack and his little sister, Annie, are playing in the woods during their summer holiday, when they find a mysterious tree house full of books. But these are no ordinary books... And this is no ordinary tree house... Jack and Annie get more than they had bargained for when Jack opens a book about dinosaurs and wishes he could see them for real. They end up in prehistoric times with Pteranodons, Triceratops and a huge Tyrannosaurus Rex! How will they get home again? The race is on!” (Goodreads).

Frindle | Andrew Clements | Middle-Grade | Realistic Fiction | “Is Nick Allen a troublemaker? He really just likes to liven things up at school --and he’s always had plenty of great ideas. When Nick learns some interesting information about how words are created, suddenly he’s got the inspiration for his best plan ever...the frindle. Who says a pen has to be called a pen? Why not call it a frindle? Things begin innocently enough as Nick gets his friends to use the new word. Then other people in town start saying frindle. Soon the school is in an uproar, and Nick has become a local hero. His teacher wants Nick to put an end to all this nonsense, but the funny this is frindle doesn’t belong to Nick anymore. The new word is spreading across the country, and there’s nothing Nick can do to stop it” (Goodreads).

Knights of the Kitchen Table [Time Warp Trio series 1] | Jon Scieszka | Children’s Literature | Fantasy | Time Travel | “Magician Uncle Joe’s birthday present entitle ‘The Book’ swirls green mist and grants pal Fred’s wish to ‘see knights and all that stuff for real’, sending Sir Joe the Magnificent, Sir Fred the Awesome, and Sir Same the Unusual to King Arthur’s castle opposing the Black Knight, grossly smelly giant Bleob, and fire-breathing leather-winged iron-clawed green dragon Smaug. Fred plays tag and wields a baseball bat. Sam cleverly politicks. Joseph, Arthur tricks with cards. But Merlin has ‘The Book’ to get home” (Goodreads).

Over Sea, Under Stone [The Dark Is Rising series 1] | Susan Cooper | Middle-Grade | Fantasy | Arthurian Inspired | “On holiday in Cornwall, the three Drew children discover an ancient map in the attic of the house that they are staying in. They know immediately that it is special. It is even more than that --the key to finding a grail, a source of power to fight the forces of evil known as the Dark. And in searching for it themselves, the Drews put their very lives in peril” (Goodreads).

Bunnicula: A Rabbit-Tale of Mystery [Bunnicula series 1] | Deborah Howe | Children’s Literature | Fantasy | Mystery | “BEWARE THE HARE! Is he or isn’t he a vampire? Before it’s too late, Harold the dog and Chester the cat must find out the truth about the newest pet in the Monroe household: a suspicious-looking bunny with unusual habits...and fangs!” (Goodreads).

Howliday Inn [Bunnicula series 2] | James Howe | Children’s Literature | Fantasy | Mystery | “Not a great place to visit, and you wouldn’t want to live there. The Monroes have gone on vacation, leaving Harold and Chester at Chateau Bow-Wow --not exactly a four-star hotel. On the animals’ very first night there, the silence is pierced by a peculiar wake-up call --an unearthly howl that makes Chester observe that the place should be called Howliday Inn. But the mysterious cries in the night (Chester is convinced there are werewolves afoot) are just the beginning of the frightening goings-on. Soon animals start disappearing, and there are whispers of murder. Is checkout time at Chateau Bow-Wow going to come earlier than Harold and Chester anticipated?” (Goodreads).

Peter Pan | J.M. Barrie | Children’s Literature | Fantasy | Adventure | “The mischievous boy who refuses to grow up, lands in the Darling’s proper middle-class home to look for his shadow. He befriends Wendy, John and Michael and teaches them to fly (with a little help from fairy dust). He and Tinker Bell whisk them off to Never-land where they encounter the Red Indians [Native Never-landers], the Little Lost Boys, pirates and the dastardly Captain Hook” (Goodreads). | Content Warnings: use of the terms “Red Indians” and “Indians” (and probably other racist terms, I can’t remember though).

Owl Moon | Jane Yolen | Picture Book | Realistic Fiction | “Late one winter night a little girl and her father go owling. The trees stand still as statues and the world is silent as a dream. Whoo-whoo-whoo, the father calls to the mysterious nighttime bird. But there is no answer. Wordlessly the two companions walk along, for when you go owling you don’t need words. You don’t need anything but hope. Sometimes there isn’t an owl, but sometimes there is” (Goodreads).

Kiana’s Iditarod | Shelley Gill | Picture Book | Fiction | Educational | “Kiana is no ordinary dog. Born and bred to race, she leads her team of huskies on a journey unlike any other. The Iditarod --known traditionally as Alaska’s ‘Last Great Race’-- spans 1,049 icy miles from Anchorage to Nome. From the treacherous terrain to the bitter, blowing winds, the trail is full of obstacles Kiana and her team must overcome in order to reach the finish line. Along the way, they encounter pacts of wild wolves, a mighty moose, and other dog-sled teams fighting for first place. Can Kiana summon the strength of her team and lead them to victory? Author Shelley Gill brings her firsthand experience as the fifth woman to complete the Iditarod race to this crackling adventure story” (Amazon).

#bookblr #books recs #book recommendations #covid-19 #self quarantine #social distancing #quarantine and read #reading #fantasy #lgbt books #memoirs

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Text

Nb Steve as requested by @takemebythehand-andsetmefree

Happy Pride!

Here is a link to my post about Harringrove for BLM, and here is a link to Writers/Artists Against Police Brutality

Here’s also a link to the Masterlist of Harringrove for BLM coutesy of @harringrovetrashh

Thank you all for organizing, participating, and donating.

There is an instance where Steve gets misgendered, not by malicious intent, but it still happens, so take care of yourselves, don’t read if that could harm you.

“I think I’m a girl.”

This revelation wasn��t totally shocking to Billy.

Steve loved pretty things. Could be found more often than not jamming around in a little skirt, lots of makeup. So Billy just said

“Okay, Baby. Then I love my gorgeous girlfriend.”

And that was so sweet and all, but to Steve it still didn’t, it felt just as bad as boyfriend.

“Actually, maybe not.”

“I think maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

They were in Steve’s bed together, Steve laying practically on top of Billy.

“What makes you say that?”

“Parts of me feel like I’m a girl, and parts of me feel like I’m a boy. But all of me hates both of those options. I mean, I love looking like a girl, but when you, when you said girlfriend, Bill that felt just as fucking bad as boyfriend. I think I’m broken.” Billy shifted around until Steve was looking right at him.

“You are not broken. You are beautiful and amazing and confused. But you are far from broken. There’s more in the world than girl and boy. You can be anything, anyone.

“Back in California, I knew all kinds of people. I had friends all along the trans umbrella. I had a friend who was a trans guy, but preferred presenting for feminine. I had androgynous friends that presented however they pleased. I had friends who identified as no gender, or all the genders. I had a friend whose gender identity would change on any given day. Gender is fucking fake, and if you’re not comfortable with whatever you were assigned at birth, make something new for yourself.”

“I think that I’m somewhere in between. Not a woman, but not a man.” Billy grabbed the notbad next to Steve’s bad, drew a horizontal line across it.

“So basically, think of gender as a spectrum. Over here you’ve got women. This includes trans women, who are women that were assigned male at birth. One the other side you’ve got men, which includes trans men. In the middle, you’ve got nonbinay folks. Nonbinary is an umbrella term that just means these people live outside of man and woman. This includes agender people, who have no gender, and people who identify as more than one gender, like bigender or pangender. All along the scale you have people who are genderfluid and genderflux, whose definition of their own gender may slide along the scale at any given moment. You also have people that identify as demiboy, or reversely, demigirl, people that only identify partially as boy or girl, respectively. There’s also the idea of being transmasc, or transfem which are people who were assinged a gender at birth, but identitfy more with the other, without completely identify themselves as trans. So a person assigned male at birth who doesn’t consider themselves a transwoman, but more comfortably identities with feminity as a concept.”

He held out the drawing to Steve.

“There’s also different pronouns, and this isn’t even touching the intersex scale. Gender is so fucking whack, Sweet Thing.

“There’s a lot of different ways to play with it, and each person is so different. You can identify one way and present in a way that isn’t stereotypical to how you identify. And no one can tell you you’re wrong. Because you’re not.”

Steve was studying the drawing with wide eyes.

“Pronouns?”

“Like how I was assigned male at birth, and identify as male, so I use he/him pronouns. People along this scale can use whatever pronouns feel best. Some people use they and them so that they aren’t being gendered, and there are other gender neutral pronouns, like ze/zir and ve/ver.”

“But I mean, they is like, it’s plural.”

“Nah. They has always been used as a gender neutral pronoun. Plus, if it feels best, it can mean whatever the fuck you want it to.”

“So I could, I could like, be a them.”

“If that feels good.”

“Use it for me. Let me see.”

“Okay, um, I was laying in bed with my significant other, Steve and they were asking me questions about gender identity and expression. Afterwards I made them a cup of tea and cuddled them all night.” Steve’s eyes opened back up.

“Bill, that’s, fuck, that’s it.”

“They?”

“They. That felt, it felt good. I didn’t, I don’t even know.” Billy squished them tighter to himself.

“I’m glad, Baby.”

“So, does that make me nonbinary?” Billy just looked at them.

“Does it? You tell me, Sweet Thing.”

“I think so. Nonbinary. So like, maybe transfem? But I think I would be more agender”

“If that’s what’s true. You can call yourself nonbinary and leave it at that, or you can take as many labels as you feel fit. It’s your identity. Fuck with it as you see fit.”

Steve was worrying their lip.

“And you don’t mind?”

“Mind what?”

“That I’m not, not a guy.” Billy pressed a kiss to their forehead.

“‘Course I don’t min. You’re still you. You’re gender doesn’t matter to me at all. As long as you’re happy and comfortable and safe. That’s what matters to me.”

Steve needed to tell the party.

They spent so much time with the gaggle of kids, and kept getting fucking misgendered. Not that it was their fault, they didn’t know Steve was using different pronouns now.

“Look, I know those little Gen-Z’ers aren’t gonna care. I mean they see me in makeup and dresses and shit all the time, but this feels, big.” Billy was driving them over to the Byers’ place where all the kids were waiting. “But, but what if they take it wrong. What if they just think I’m this confused girl or something. Or they say I need to make up my mind.” Billy reached over to grab their hand.

“If they do, I’ll punch ‘em out. One by one. Fuck them kids.”

But they all took it so fucking well, it was actually anticlimactic.

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious you don’t conform to a gender binary.” Dustin hadn’t even looked up from their campaign as Steve fucking came out. “But like, thanks for telling us. And trusting us. You’re pretty brave I guess.”

Steve rolled their eyes.

“Thanks. You’re all so sweet and sensitive. I was shitting myself on the way over, and none of you are even fazed.”

“Yeah, I saw this coming.” Lucas rolled one of his dice.

“Do you want to do it again? We’ll all pretend to think you’re disgusting and call you a freak or something. Would that be better?” Mike had a challenging look on his face. Steve just slumped into the couch.

“No. Whatever. It’s fine.” They were actually pouting.

“What, you wanted like, a Lifetime movie moment? Where we all cry and say that we love you regardless and pretend we literally all didn’t see this coming?” Mike rolled his eyes.

“I mean, a little pomp and circumstance would be nice. Accepting myself and coming out to you all was a bunch of breakdowns in the making.” Dustin threw himself dramatically onto Steve’s lap.

“Oh! Oh, Steven! My sweet dear loved one! This is shocking news! But my love for you will never crumble! If anything, it is fortified!” Steve just laughed and shoved Dustin off their lap.

“Brat.”

“Can I just get a cheeseburger and fries?” The peppy waitress was twirling her ponytail, batting her eyes at Billy like Steve wasn’t right fucking there.

“Of course. Anything else for you?” She pat her eyes. Billy just blinked at her, completely dead-eyed. He gestured to Steve.

“Sorry, Girl. Didn’t see you!” She tried to laugh it off. Steve’s blood went cold.

“I’ll get the same please.” Her eyes widened at the sound of Steve’s voice, still deep, still masculine, despite the light blue dress, the pretty makeup.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll get that right out for you boys.” She shot away, embarrassed. Steve let their head fall onto the table.

Billy ran his fingers through their hair.

“Two for the price of one misgenderings.” They muttered into the table. Billy was gently scraping his nails into their scalp. “That was like getting kicked while down Jesus.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that. I’m sorry I can’t totally understand how shitty it makes you feel.” They sat in silence for a moment until Billy tugged on their hair as the waitress approached with their food. She set it down cautiously.

“Could we get some ketchup, please. And they’re gonna want mustard.” Steve smiled weakly at him, they way he overemphasized using they.

“Um, of course. Anything else?”

“Could you grab them another water?” It was just less than half-full, but Billy couldn’t be stopped.

The waitress just blushed, filling Steve’s water and placing ketchup and mustard on their table with a little enjoy.

“Bill, she didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, but she still did. And I wanted you to stop feeling invalidated.” Billy shoved the burger in his mouth.

Steve just smiled at him, told him he ate like a pig.

#yikes writes #harringrove for blm #writers/artists against police brutality #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove drabble #harringrove ficlet #nonbinary!steve #nonbinary steve harrington #nonbinary!steve harrington #nb!steve #nb!steve harrington #nb steve harrington #nb steve

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