#nb movies

[shaylogic]

Queer Experience Watching Barbie - AFAB Masculinity

I started to go into this in tags on another post but I wanted to type this up separately and try to develop my thoughts a little more. . .

Ryan!Ken’s arc in Barbie (2023) has been buzzing in my head for days.

I got fixated on it for a couple of major reasons:

1) We rarely have seen a feminist movie take time to address men with compassion in how patriarchy harms them too.

2) As a trans masc person, I think it hits a specific part of my identity that I don’t consciously let myself think about for too long. Something about being raised in a female world with sisterhood and community. Then being isolated in adult manhood without the tools to prepare you for that. Conscientious of respecting women and being unbothered by feminimity around you, but not knowing your place in the world.

How do I put it?

I know it’s not the direct intention of the film itself, but I’ve seen other trans folks (especially transmasc), reacting similarly to the feeling we get from it.

Ken’s arc feels pretty reminicent of the struggle afab lgbt folks go through when considering masculinity in their identity (butch lesbians, afab nbs, trans men, etc.)

How to make peace with masculine aspects of yourself without losing the women in your life? (One can argue Kate McKinnon’s Weird Barbie has aspects of this as well.)

Of course, then Ken goes off on the adopting patriarchy ride, which IS the point of the movie, and may skew a bit from the transmasc read on it--though I have known a trans guy here and there who avoids being misgendered so hard that they can become somewhat sexist. To which I say: “You don’t need to have a dick to be a man, and you don’t need to BE a dick to be a man.” But I digress.

Something about Ken being comfortable in a woman’s world but not understanding why he’s being shut out from socially bonding with them (in any sense! Romantic, Familial, Platonic Friendship. . .)

The overall theme of the movie for both Barbie and Ken--in an allegory of heavy gender roles harming all--leading them each to have to figure out who they are in themselves, regardless of others. . . 

Trans masc folx can relate to both Barbie and Ken’s arcs.

I don’t want to detract from Barbie’s arc being the main point of the movie.

I think the reason why we get hung up on Ryan!Ken’s character is because. . . we’ve related to the Barbie plot in other movies and shows before, thinking back to our “girlhoods” as children.

I have never seen the arc Ken has in this in any other story!!!!

There are some Man Movies that have attempted to discuss the struggle of Being a Man--but they often come off as too dismissive of feminine experiences, and are therefore as offputting to transmasc people as women.

Because of the nature of the two worlds exhibited in this movie, and Ken’s backround in his setting, personality, and purpose in relation to the Barbies, he’s a Man living with Female Socialization, in a Woman’s World; he’s a male character that inherently admires and respects women in his nature (until the real world influence distorts it).

This isn’t a perfect example of a transmasc experience either, but it’s a lot closer than most of us generally get to see! That’s why so many of us are getting caught up in this.

Please, other trans folx (transfems, too!), I really need us to have a discussion about this. What were your experiences and thoughts around this movie?

P.S. Yeah, we kinda get that nonbinary allegory from Allan (not a Ken, not a Barbie, siding with Feminism in the Gender War), but he wasn’t in significant focus of the plot the way Ryan!Ken was. If I try to read into Allan, I don’t have much to work with.

[freak-accident419]

Soft Spot

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: After a long, frustrating day of work, Derek comes back home to you for comfort. Being the tough, asshole-ish, and reckless man he was on the outside, he easily melts into you with sweetness and submission. After all, he had such a soft spot for you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content: fluff, gender neutral reader, cuddling, cursing, reader babying Derek, reader feeding him cherries (putting their fingers in his mouth, wow) but it’s not sexual (maybe only slightly suggestive), reader and Derek are engaged already, basically tooth-rotting fluff and intimacy, short but sweet, inspired by a scene from S02E06 of The Bear

-

You were laying on the mattress in the bedroom that you and Derek shared, looking down at your phone while eating cherries from the nightstand. There was a sweet domesticity to it—you in your pajamas, snuggled up in bed, waiting for your boyfriend (or rather, fiancé) to come back home.

Derek had a long, exhausting day of work. He thought today was going to be like every other day, relaxed and held back, but instead, he had to deal with so much bullshit from Danforth Enterprises, including international affairs and money complications. And his employees made things even worse, their incompetence driving him insane until every sentence he spoke had at least one “fuck” in it. And not only that, but UDG and Nine Star were experiencing setbacks and issues that could have probably been easily fixed if it wasn’t for his idiotic employees. After an entire day of yelling at his absentminded workers with hostility, he was so desperate to just come home to you.

It was only until the evening when you finally saw Derek in the doorway of the room, letting out an exasperated sigh. He looked… rough, to say the least, despite the fact he was wearing a fancy and highly expensive black suit. He was still very attractive, of course, especially in that suit, but right now he just looked utterly exhausted. You turned off your phone, placing it face down on the nightstand to give him your full attention.

“Hey, my love,” you coo softly, smiling up at him.

“Hey, babe,” he mumbles tiredly, slowly walking towards you.

“Rough day?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here,” you grin, grabbing him by his black necktie to bring his lips to yours, sharing a brief, soft kiss. Then he lazily went into bed, melting into your arms with his head buried in your neck. He melted into you entirely. He felt comforted and warm in your embrace, the tension in his muscles gradually dissipating.

“They didn’t keep you too long, did they?” You ask gently, holding him closely as you caress his hair.

“They totally did, Y/n. Today was a fucking mess,” he huffs, yet already too relaxed to even raise his voice. “I swear, baby, these guys are so fucking incompetent and can’t do their goddamn jobs. Those fucks give me such a migraine.”

You continue to stroke his hair and then his face. “Aww, my poor baby,” you coo soothingly. Derek loved all of it, leaning into your touch and just being limp in your arms. However, he would shoot anyone else who witnessed him in this state. “Westwyld just hired a whole bunch of idiots. He’s even an idiot himself. It’s none of your fault, my love.”

He sighs softly, nuzzling into your neck further. “I know,” he mumbles dismissively. “But it’s just so fucking frustrating because I feel like I always have to do everything ‘cause they keep fucking things up. Like, what are we even paying them for if they can’t do their fucking job?”

You chuckle under your breath. “I know, honey, I know,” you whisper. “Well, that’s why you’re the CEO, yeah? To keep everything, you know, all balanced and orderly?” He hummed in understanding. You look over to the nightstand, then grabbed a cherry from the box. Derek noticed this action and pulled his head out from your neck, now sitting up against the bed frame. You then guided the small, red fruit to his lips. “Open,” you order in a gentle voice.

You watched him open his mouth and you placed the cherry in, letting the stem rip off, placing it in a bowl for stems and pits. He began to chew it slowly, indulging in the sweet and juicy sensation in his mouth while also enjoying the fact that you were feeding him. The cherry tasted different than any others he had tried, all sweet with no bitter or even slightly tart aftertaste. “Mm, these are good, where did you get these?” He asked with a mouthful of cherry flesh, his speech slightly muffled.

“Hm, it was a shipment from Japan,” you answer. “I think they’re, like, the most expensive cherries in the world… Open,” you say again, letting your fingers enter his mouth to grab the pit, placing the seed in the bowl on the nightstand. In the few seconds your fingers were in his mouth, it was arousing and suggestive, to say the least. But all you wanted to do right now was to take care of him with the least amount of energy possible. If he was fatigued, then you should let him rest.

“I can’t believe I’m going to marry you,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering down to his shiny silver engagement ring.

“And I can’t believe I’m marrying you, my love,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek, reaching over to the nightstand to grab another cherry. His lips parted, letting you place it in his mouth, eating it contently. “How did your day go, baby? Like, before everything went to shit. Tell me all the good.”

After he ate most of the cherry’s flesh, he let your fingers in his mouth once more, removing the pit and placing it in the bowl. There was something so curiously intimate about this moment, feeding him, removing the pit for him, and holding him close.

“Had my usual coffee,” he answers quietly.

“Oh yeah? Your flat white with oat milk?”

“And extra shot of espresso—”

“—extra espresso, yes,” you giggle, stroking his hair once more. “How much espresso does one need? Like, flat whites are meant to have a higher espresso-to-milk ratio, yet you still want more.”

He pouted, looking at you from the side. “But it’s good.”

“Do you even need to say ‘extra shot of espresso’? Like, as a flat white, I’m pretty sure they’re adding more espresso than, say, a latte,” you grin.

“I know, but I want more than usual, like, more than a flat white,” he reasons, yet his delivery suggesting that he was lying.

“Wow. You’re just greedy, aren’t you?”

“You know me,” he mumbles.

“You don’t know the difference, do you? Is that why you always ask for an extra shot, just to make sure?” You say, calling him out.

He just pouts silently at your teasing, which only amused your further. “You’re a dork,” you giggle.

“Meanie.”

“You’re the meanie. You never answered my call,” you utter. It was true. He was too caught up with work that he didn’t even know you called him up at that time.

“Oh, shit…” he sighs. “I’m sorry, babe. I was just so busy today, I totally forgot to get back to you.”

You frown. “Hey, no, don’t—don’t apologize, I was just teasing. I know how busy you were today and I’m sorry that you were surrounded by idiots. You’re okay.”

“Okay.”

For one last time, you grab a cherry, guiding it into his mouth. You wait for him to chew it until you’d take the pit out from his mouth. You wipe some of the fruit’s juice off the corner of his lips, but suddenly, his mouth welcomes in your fingers once more, sucking lightly on your fingertips before you pulled them away to kiss his lips passionately. It was a patient, loving kiss, your lips moving slowly with his as you savored the cherry taste on him.

You had him in an embrace in one arm and the other was occupied by cupping his face gently. Your touch was tender, making him feel comforted and warm. You looked closely at his face, absorbing all of the details. You could see the faint freckles spread across his nose and cheeks. He was so close to you. And he was beautiful.

“Hi,” you whisper, looking deeply into his eyes.

“Hi,” he whispers back.

“You’re so cute,” you comment.

You caress the side of his face as he enjoyed feeling your soft palm and fingertips graze his cheek. His eyes closed sleepily, completely infatuated with your soothing touch and the way you encompassed his body. You pressed a kiss on the top of his head. And again. And again.

He felt small.

Like, smaller than usual.

He was completely vulnerable with you and it was freeing. This was a part of him that nobody else but you knew about. He could curse and be a privileged, arrogant dickhead whenever he pleased, but at the end of the day, he is always succumbing to your embrace and warmth. He was indisputably smitten with you—infatuated, even. You were the only person he could be fragile around.

“You know, your mom is always on my ass about you,” you chuckle, pressing two soft kisses on the top of his head as you pet his curls.

“Huh? I thought she liked y—”

“No, no, it’s not like that. She just asks me about you all the time. How you’re doing and everything.”

“Oh.”

“I think it’s because she knows you only open up to me,” you point out.

“Yeah, well… She’s been busy her whole life. I’ve never gotten the time to… You know… Actually have a full, authentic conversation with her.”

You kiss the top of his head once more, then let your head rest on it. “Mommy issues?”

He hums in response.

“Does the fact that she and Westwyld having some weird thing—in the past, at least—also affect your relationship with her?” You ask curiously.

“Well, sort of. I don’t know, he always acts—”

“He tries to act like a dad to you, yeah,” you giggle.

There was a silent pause as you two just cuddled each other, Derek, especially, feeling safe in your arms.

“Stop investing in crypto,” you murmur, stroking his hair.

“Mm, stop crushing my dreams,” he grumbles wearily.

“Your ‘dreams’ would get us broke if you weren’t already a billionaire.”

He chuckles and you proceed to caress him gently, observing him silently.

“S’it too hot, my love?” You inquire gently, beginning to help him remove his tie and then his blazer once he nodded. “Better?” He hummed as you placed the clothes at the end of the bed and went back to cuddling him.

He was closer than before, laying down beside you with his face buried into your neck. He held onto your waist tightly as if you’d disappear any second, and your arms wrapped around him generously. You press a soft kiss to his forehead and hold him warmly.

“You’re going to be my husband…” you whisper sweetly, kissing the top of his head once more.

“Mm, you’re going to be my spouse…” he mirrors.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too. So, so much.” Derek mutters sleepily, melting into your touch.

You rubbed his back, letting your head rest against his. Until finally, after peppering his face and head with kisses, you two fell asleep in each other’s arms, feeling safe and secure.

[cultofsappho]

Ive come to the realization that the reason theres a small but loud group of people who are showing nothing but hate for the rwrb movie is because they have completely unrealistic expectations. People are forgetting that this is a cheesy romantic comedy, thats supposed to look and feel like a cheesy romantic comedy. This isnt going to be moonlight or gods own country or some other critically acclaimed, oscar nomintaed queer film that makes straight people go "hmm maybe they do deserve rights and respect🤷‍♀️"

Its gonna be a cheesy adult romantic comedy, thats gonna be a bit camp and over the top and thats exactly why its so good. I dont want to think about every gay movie I watch. I want to watch it and see two queer people fall in love and thats it. Thats how deep it goes. Maybe a sprinkling of politcal commentary in between.

There is this issue thats become bigger and bigger every passing year, that people expect every bit of queer representation to be the best thing ever. There can not ever be anything cringey or different or silly, and if it is then they send endless hate towards it, and in an industry that already hates to show queer people on screen, its this viscious cycle of someone finally being greenlit to make queer media, the media gets endless hate for not being perfect, the studio cancels the queer media before giving it a chance because theyve just 'proven that it wont make money', suddenly everyone is saying 'why do they keep canceling queer media😢', cycle repeats.

Im so over it. Let gay people be slightly cringy or cheesy or campy. Let queer media exist without putting it on this huge pedestal. Just enjoy things! And if you dont, dont watch it! Move on, find something better to do.

Yes!!! Thank you so much anon for putting this feeling into words much better than I could have!

"I dont want to think about every gay movie I watch."

Thank you.

I want light-hearted rom coms about queer adults just being queer adults and havig fun. I want comedy adventures where the characters just happen to be gay. I want more horror where at the end the final girl kisses a girl and can't belive they lived but not because they're gay. (suprisingly several of these exist and I love it)

I don't always want to think about the plight and horrors of being queer today with every queer movie I watch.

Sometimes, yes of course, I want to be seen on that level.

(Nimona, which came this weekend is a perfect example of a queer movie where I felt very very seen but also had a good time and was an incredibly silly fantasy adventure movie. But, still had the queer expereince intertwined.)

I'm looking forward to a movie that will be 90% rom com, and 10% realism/heavyness. re: being outed is a real thing that happens to people. famous people.

Alex and Henry go through some heavy shit. There's seriously traumatizing stuff at the end of the book. They're both dealing with mental illnesses, complex families, and rock-or-a-hard-place situations. I want all of that honored.

And, at the same time, I'm expecting a straight-to-streaming, mid-budget, movie that had to pass through a LOT of straight hands and board meetings to get to us.

Not to say we should love and accept every queer movie that comes out automatically, they have been done wrong in the past. (example: I skipped call me by your name bc the age gap still makes me too uncomfortable to watch)

But we have to give queer movies a chance to fit the genre they were made for, the tone they are made to be, and give queer creators a chance to show they are us annd they know us. The director is Bi. He's spent so much time going on about how much he related to Alex that he needed to make this movie. It's his first directing role, and I'm giving him a chance.

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

One of my favorite things about actually joining the Starkid fandom after so many years of loving Starkid but not being a part of the community is seeing how much love and enthusiasm for Starship is still out there. Like, ya'll really love the silly alien-bug-Little-Mermaid musical I was obsessed with twelve whole years ago and it warms my heart so much <3

[greenflamethegf]

Just watched Nimona and it's good

[jell-o-mel]

I’ve been seeing a lot of Nimona stuff but nothing about Nimona being so fucking genderfluid coded. This is the genderfluid experience put in film, you cannot prove me wrong. Please discuss this genderfluid icon with me.

I will die on this hill

[dizzyrobinsims]

Just watched Nimona

The fact this movie never got a theater release because of Blue Sky's closure and Disney deciding to nix it once acquired will forever break my heart holy shit.

Like up front it is BEAUTIFULLY animated, the writing is tight as hell, the story is genuinely moving and amazing. By that alone it deserved to be in theaters.

*deep breath*

But BOY HOWDY am I SALTY AS FUCK that a animated movie that is accessible to kids, especially queer kids, got knocked out of the process to reach theaters when

IT JUST CASUALLY HAS A INTERRACIAL GAY COUPLE WITH A (metaphorically) ADOPTED (literally) TRANS CHILD AS THE 3 MAIN CHARACTERS IN THE MOVIE THE FUCKING HELL WE COULD'VE HAD ALL THIS PERFECTLY DONE QUEER MEDIA ON THE BIG SCREEN AS A COHERENT AMAZING STORY FUC-

[moerusai]

The Marriage Movie is every bisexual fantasy coming true. It is also the Fem Alpha x Male Omega representation we deserve.

Source: EWaraha

[defectivevillain]

shared solitude

pairing: Lawrence Gordon/Reader

summary: “How are you feeling?” Lawrence asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.  “Fine, doc,” you say, if only to make Lawrence’s eyebrow tick in annoyance. You know he hates it when you call him that, but sometimes you just can’t help it. Ironically, it’s in moments like these that you realize just how good of a doctor Lawrence is—how patient and understanding he is, even in the wake of your stubbornness. 

Lawrence helps you recover from top surgery. 

The reader’s pronouns are unspecified and race/gender is kept ambiguous. 

This one’s for my nb, transmasc and otherwise gender-nonconforming friends <3. If you want top surgery and haven’t gotten it yet, then I’m manifesting it for you. And if you don’t want it, then that’s fine too—you can just kick back and enjoy Lawrence Gordon being an amazing partner!

ao3 version | word count: 1.6k

warnings: mentions of surgery, medications, pain, nausea (typical medical stuff); some brief self-deprecating thoughts. 

When you get up from the couch after several hours, you’re unsurprised to find that the effort is awkward and slightly painful. You just had top surgery a few days ago, and the binder you have to wear over your bandages is horribly uncomfortable. You know that your patience will pay off soon—and that you’ll be taking the binder off within a week. Still, it makes regular activity rather difficult. 

You just need to get some more water and stretch your legs. Sighing, you take a few slow steps forward until you’re near the water dispenser in the kitchen. The water seems to drip into your bottle with infinite slowness, and you eventually have to lean forward and brace yourself against the wall with a hand.

“I told you not to get up without me.”

Your heart rate spikes at the sudden noise, but you immediately recognize the voice. Lawrence is back from work, it seems. You had no idea it had gotten so late in the day already. Not that you’re complaining.  “Lawrence, you scared me,” you say breathlessly. Lawrence just raises his eyebrows at you, evidently questioning why you’re standing up. “I’m fine. I just needed to get some water and move around a bit.”

The skepticism fades from the doctor’s expression, replaced instead with concern. “Just be careful,” Lawrence chastises. He places his jacket on the coat hanger near the door, before taking off his shoes and walking over to you. You know you must look horrible right now, but Lawrence doesn’t seem to care. He leans in and places a kiss on your forehead, before his gaze falls to your sides.  “Did you check your drains?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago,” you respond, allowing yourself to lean into him for a moment. You’re infinitely grateful that you have Lawrence to guide you along in this recovery process. You know you’re capable of caring for yourself on your own, but it’s nice to know that someone else cares about you, too. 

“How are you feeling?” Lawrence asks, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip is firm and reassuring. You take a deep breath. Despite your overwhelming appreciation for Lawrence’s assistance, he can get a little… overbearing at times. You know it’s all born out of compassion and concern, but it’s hard not to feel patronized sometimes. 

“Fine, doc,” you say, if only to make Lawrence’s eyebrow tick in annoyance. You know he hates it when you call him that, but sometimes you just can’t help it. Ironically, it’s in moments like these that you realize just how good of a doctor Lawrence is—how patient and understanding he is, even in the wake of your stubbornness. A hint of a smile falls on your lips. 

“Have you taken your meds?” He hums, his thumb running along your skin as his hand cradles your jaw. You meet his gaze and nearly choke on your next breath as you see the sheer adoration in his glimmering blue eyes. 

“I switched to Ibuprofen this morning,” you murmur, leaning into him for another moment before slowly breaking away. You haven’t been able to shower in the past few days, and despite the efforts you’ve taken to maintain your hygiene in other ways, you still feel a little self-conscious. Lawrence has maintained several times that it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. 

“Okay, good,” Lawrence says, breaking you out of your thoughts. His hand slips from your face and he tugs his sleeve up to glance at his watch. “You can take Tylenol after you eat something.” His gaze turns expectant at that latter statement. 

“I’m not hungry,” you say through gritted teeth. Truthfully, you are hungry, but nothing sounds good. The thought of food right now turns your stomach. Lawrence has a knowing expression on his face as he regards you, as if he’s able to read your unspoken thoughts. He takes a few steps towards your pantry and looks around. 

“How about some rice?” Lawrence asks, turning around to look at you questioningly. “It’s easy on the stomach.” 

He’s right. Besides, you know that you should eat something. You’ve only really been snacking for most of the day, eating crackers and other small things when your stomach allowed for it. “Sure.” Lawrence smiles and tells you to settle on the couch. You hear him rustling around in the kitchen, evidently getting whatever cooking utensils he needs. You hope that he’s making something for himself, too.

Some time later, Lawrence is heading back to the living room with a bowl of steaming white rice in hand. You slowly push yourself up, ignoring the tight feeling the movement provokes in your chest. After noticing that Lawrence is also holding something for himself, you swing your legs around to leave him room to sit next to you. He settles next to you and remains silent for a moment. You realize that he’s watching you eat. 

“I don’t need help eating, Lawrence,” you huff fondly. To your surprise, he flushes pink at that and moves away. You quickly backpedal, wanting to make sure that he knows you’re just joking. “Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that… I really appreciate all your help. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be just fine,” Lawrence smiles down at his plate, before taking another bite of his own meal. You don’t know what to say to that, so you settle for taking periodic bites of your food. Lawrence seems content to share the silence, as he picks at his food. Once you’re done eating as much as you can, he presses a pill into your hand and you down it with water. 

Lawrence finishes with his own meal moments later and reaches for your plate. “Hey, let me do something,” you remark, holding your plate in a tight grip. “I’ll do the dishes.” You try to push yourself up, but Lawrence places a hand on your shoulder and pushes you back onto the couch. 

“Absolutely not,” Lawrence argues. You glare at him and he takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sweetheart, you need to take it easy.” He implores you, before taking your plate and stacking it on top of his. “I’m doing the dishes.” He proceeds to walk into the kitchen. You hear the water running and the occasional clanging sound of dishes. Moments later, Lawrence is back and settled into the couch next to you. 

You keep sneaking him sidelong glances, hoping he doesn’t notice. He looks tired—dark circles under his eyes. He’s been busy at work recently, from what he’s told you. Guilt stews in your chest at the thought that his work as a caretaker doesn’t end when he leaves work. “I’m sorry,” you murmur quietly. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Lawrence replies, reaching out to place a hand on your knee. You disagree. You’ve been doing nothing the past few days, save for leeching off of Lawrence and practically demanding his constant attention. 

“I just feel so useless-” You admit, your throat burning with unshed tears. You hate being so sedentary, feeling so restless and frustrated. 

“You are not useless,” Lawrence interjects sincerely. There is a stern expression on his face as he looks at you. “Absolutely not. And besides, we’ve talked about this. I told you that I would care for you as you recovered—that I wanted to.” He maintains, turning to the side to look at you head-on. 

“You’ve been there for me for so long,” Lawrence continues. “Now, let me return the favor. Okay?” He leans into you and presses a kiss to your lips. You feel a smile growing on your face. Somehow, he always knows how to cheer you up. 

“Okay,” you whisper, your eyelids burning and feeling heavier. It seems your exhaustion is catching up to you. You lean back into the cushion behind you. Just before you feel your mind begin to calm down, Lawrence interjects. 

“Don’t go to sleep yet,” he remarks. You blink dazedly, opening your eyes to find him staring at you expectantly. “You can’t sleep out here—it would be bad for your back.” You groan at the thought of having to move again, triggering more pain. Lawrence extends a hand and you take it, allowing him to guide you into a standing position. Thankfully, it is a rather short walk from the living room to your bedroom, and Lawrence provides the support you need to make it to the bed. You slowly sit down on the bed, before trying to grab the covers. He pushes your hand away and pulls the sheets over you. 

“Do you need anything else?” Lawrence asks once you’re settled, eyebrows furrowed in concern. His gaze flits to your nightstand and wanders about the room, before settling on you once more. 

“I don’t think so,” you respond with a slight shake of your head. You reach out and clasp his hand. “Thank you, Lawrence.”

“Any time.” He responds.

Once you heal from surgery, you take over dishwashing duty for a straight month—until Lawrence has to practically drag you away from the dishwasher and reassure you that you’re doing your part, that you don’t owe him anything. 

For now, though, you’re content to let your head fall back into the pillow behind you. Lawrence lingers in the doorway, a soft smile on his face that you rarely get to see.

“I love you,” Lawrence murmurs. You smile, wondering—not for the first time—how you got so lucky.  

“I love you too,” you respond without hesitation. “Good night, Lawrence.” He flicks the light off and closes the door, but the warmth of his gestures settles into the air around you and coaxes you into a gentle slumber. 

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian

[that-disabled-radfem]

tw: rape

gyns I wanna be clear that I’m not out here to hate on Women Talking because it was a really really really great film and I love Sarah Polley and wish her nothing but the best. And even though I was confused by Toews’ choice to make so much of the book about August, I still love her writing and enjoyed the book. and I really think y’all would really like the movie and the book and you should definitely go see it if you have the chance

but we gotta talk what happens to Nettie/Melvin in the film adaptation!!

breif overview of the concept: Women Talking is loosely inspired by the events of the Manitoba Mennonite Colony in Bolivia - women were repeatedly drugged and raped in the night. they were told that they were making it up or that they’d been attacked by the devil as punishment but in reality it was the men of the colony. this happened between 2005 and 2009 but probably continued even after the men were caught and arrested

so in the book Nettie is attacked and she is impregnated and later loses her child. this is obviously traumatic. she changes her name to Melvin and begins dressing as a man. (obviously because she’s living in a traditional mennonite colony, she can never fully take on the role of a man - her job becomes caring for the children) it is very clear in the book that this (as well as her no longer speaking to adults) is a trauma response and Toews refers to this character as Nettie, Nettie/Melvin, and Melvin but settles on Melvin at the end though she ALWAYS calls Melvin ‘she’

the movie however, within like thirty seconds of introducing Nettie/Melvin the film explicitly says (via narration. like when I say explicit, I mean explicit!) that Melvin is not living as a man as a result of trauma. It was something along the lines of “Melvin was a man all along. He just couldn’t hide it any more after it happened.” So instead, being raped and losing a child act as catalyst events that make Melvin’s life as a woman untenable

and I just hate that they’ve taken the easy way out with this! it’s so much more interesting and truthful (!) to be like this character is living in an overtly hierarchical, misogynist society and on top of that she experiences a series of distinctly sex-based trauma in addition to living amongst this growing collective trauma that the women are experiencing and so she attempts to live as a man for her safety! like how can you not see that that is what’s happening

[aemiron-main]

*ben shapiro voice*

“So, I went to the barbie movie, and they had a THEY/THEM BARBIE. Can you believe it? Woke mess. Barbie would never add a they/them barbie to their line. I know this to be true. I’ve spent years studying barbies- a they/them barbie? It simply isn’t rational. What would you even call a they/them Barbie? We have Kens and Barbies. That’s it. There’s no in between. Everybody knows this. Barbieland is becoming a paradise for the woke.

Next they’ll be adding a they/them Ken. They’ll call him Pronoun Ken or something. It’ll be Magic Earring Ken all over again, just even more woke.“

[paprikamahomes]

Bladee hehe bladeee hehehe ebl;adeee hehee e

[evilkaeya]

finished watching cowboy bebop. sometimes a family is a stubborn pathetic heartbroken guy with one fake eye and a past that haunts him, a big muscular guy who can be a housewife if he tries hard enough, a hot woman who can kick your ass and evade tax for fun but can't remember her past, a kid who's a world class hacker but doesn't know what gender is and a dog that got accidentally adopted.

[acquamarinie]

William Afton nonbinary icons for request ☆彡

f2u ♡ interaction appreciated if saving

[lacking-hydration]

dave foley as chris, it's pat (1994)

Sorry to curse the dashboards of mankind with this film. But. chris is very pretty so its worth it. lorddd this movie is terrible, everyone says this about 90% of his filmography but dave is genuinely the only watchable part of this movie... I love you chris, pat doesn't deserve you 💔

[razzle-zazzle]

"Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land" by MARINA is a Between AU World Tour Branch song, as it represents perfectly how as a Troll raised by Bergens who has come to consider himself as both and neither he doesn't quite fit in any mold. It also represents his journey throughout the movie traveling across the genres and coming to find an appreciation for all music, and both of these aspects of his character and arc serve as a direct counterpoint to both Queen Barb's plan to squish every Troll into the mold of Rock and Queen Poppy's ignorance of the differences between the genres and refusal to listen to other voices. In this essay I will—