#quaker vibes

[ifyougiveamouseatuba]

[image description: screenshot of a tag that reads “this is the only christian vision I actually think was sent by god]

I’m crying because when my dad was eighteen he was going to join the airforce and then the night before he had a dream that Jesus slapped him in the face with a gigantic fish and asked him what he was doing and he woke up and thought, “Jesus is right what am I doing?” And that’s why my dad did not join the military. 

[doyelikehaggis]

25 Days of Sleighpairs: Lord John Grey x Denzell Hunter (Outlander) + “Comfort”

It was a long, tiresome night. Being on the run had a rather exhausting effect; although, John wasn't entirely sure if it was down to that or the injuries to his face. Whatever the cause, they proved effective in sending him into a blissful, dreamless sleep. He had not the faintest idea how long he had been out for, but when he roused, he found Dr Hunter's heavy eyes on him.

A small smile graced his lips when he realized he was awake, but it slipped into professional concern as he immediately made to move closer. 'Are you in pain?'

John wasn't entirely sure how to answer that; he thought he might be, as there was a dull ache in his head, but it also felt completely detached from his body. It was like he was split in two.

'Not as much anymore,' he said truthfully.

Dr Hunter still touched his face tenderly. He didn't dare remove the patch from his eye, seemingly not wanting to disturb its healing. But he touched every other inch of skin around it, gently inspecting the cut on his forehead and cheek. John couldn't do anything but sit there and watch him. Not because he was too weak, no, because he was startled by his delicate touch.

In the last few days, he had gone between yearning for human contact, feeling despairingly starved of it, to being overwhelmed by the touch of another.

His chest was still battered and bruised and stinging from the marks Claire's nails had raked across his skin. Jamie hadn't been any gentler, but he had expected nothing less, he supposed. He still wasn't sure which hurt the most, whether it was the brutal beating or his shattered heart. It had already broken before he had thrown the first punch; that damage had been done the moment he had started to believe that Jamie Fraser was dead.

Even now, he could feel the sharpness scraping his chest, cutting up his insides like he was made of paper. But he could also feel Dr Hunter tenderly, attentively checking him over, maybe more so than was entirely necessary, but what did he know?

'We should leave soon,' Dr Hunter told him, his voice low so as to avoid the possibility of being detected in their hiding spot in the woods.

'Yes, of course,' John said agreeably. He then looked at him properly, taking in the shadows under his eyes. 'Have you slept at all, Dr Hunter?'

He shook his head. 'No. Thee was restless, and I was worried.'

'You should rest.'

He still seemed hesitant, but, as a healer, it was evident that he knew they would not get much further if he was too exhsuated to see straight. He nodded, and he lay down on the cave floor beside John, who watched him. He remained facing him.

It was a strangely comforting gesture, made even more so by the way that he reached out for John again, fingers brushing his hand between them. In his delirious state, he wondered the meaning behind it, if there was one at all. Then he slipped back off again, cocooned in warmth from the closeness of another.

[spoonstrek]

I went to a Quaker meeting for the first time today and I have to say, the anxious and nauseous look on members' faces when I mentioned that I was always inspired by historical Quakers while they dejectedly explained that Quakers haven't done great things like that in a long time was very, very funny

[an-ruraiocht]

gotta say the fire metaphors also speak to my condition

[thornsent]

maybe I should find some quakers to hang out with

[kiyawritesforf1]

WEIRD VIBES ONLY

Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader

Words : 2.5k

The 4+1 times people overheard Lando and his Girlfriend’s weird conversations.

1. The Pit Crew Misadventure

Lando Norris was fresh off a practice lap, helmet still tucked under his arm, when Y/N bounded into the McLaren garage like a caffeinated squirrel. She’d swiped a wrench from a toolbox—because of course she had—and was twirling it like a baton. “So, if we’re doing it in the cockpit,” she said, voice low but not low enough, “I say we go full throttle. Maximum chaos, no holding back. I want sparks flying.”

Lando grinned, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “Yeah, but I’d need to adjust the seat first. Can’t have you slipping around when I hit the apex. Precision’s key.”

Dave, a lanky mechanic with a permanent oil smudge on his cheek, was lugging a tire past them when his ears caught the exchange. Cockpit? Full throttle? Slipping around? Sparks? His brain short-circuited. He pictured Lando and Y/N sneaking into the car after hours, doing unspeakable things on the carbon-fiber seat, probably breaking half a dozen FIA regulations in the process. The tire slipped from his grip, bouncing once before rolling into a stack of toolboxes with a clang.

“You alright, mate?” Lando called, eyebrows raised.

Dave didn’t answer. He bolted for the break room, where he found his buddy Pete sipping a lukewarm coffee. “Mate,” Dave hissed, “Lando’s about to defile the car in ways I can’t unsee. Send help. Or a priest.”

Pete choked on his coffee. “What, like, in the car?”

“Full throttle,” Dave whispered, eyes wide. “Sparks and everything.”

Meanwhile, back in the garage, Y/N tossed the wrench onto a workbench. “So, confetti cannons in the sim rig—yes or no?”

“Yes,” Lando said, “but we’re blaming Oscar if it jams.” They high-fived, oblivious to the existential crisis they’d just triggered.

2. The Supermarket Scandal

It was a rare off-day, and Lando and Y/N were prowling the aisles of a Tesco near Silverstone. Y/N, in a hoodie that swallowed her frame, held up a box of Frosted Flakes like it was a sacred artifact. “Okay, but if we’re doing it with the tiger,” she said, “we’ve got to time it perfectly—right when the sugar hits. That’s the sweet spot.”

Lando, pushing a cart with one wobbly wheel, nodded with the seriousness of a race strategist. “Timing’s everything. Too soon, and it’s just messy. Too late, and we’re sticky for hours. I’m not dealing with that again.”

A middle-aged woman in a sensible cardigan—let’s call her Janet—was browsing the oatmeal section nearby. She froze, her hand hovering over a box of Quaker Oats, as her imagination ran wild. Doing it with the tiger? Sugar hits? Sticky for hours? She envisioned some depraved, cereal-mascot-fueled roleplay, complete with Lando in a Tony the Tiger costume and Y/N wielding a can of whipped cream. Her basket trembled in her grip as she backed away, abandoning her oats to escape the depravity.

Later that night, Janet regaled her book club with the tale. “I don’t know what’s wrong with kids these days,” she said, clutching her tea. “That racer boy and his girlfriend are freaky. I’ll never look at Frosted Flakes the same way.”

In reality, Y/N was already rigging their Roomba with a cereal bowl while Lando filmed, cackling as the vacuum skidded across their flat, flinging flakes everywhere. “This is gold,” he said, dodging a stray piece. “TikTok’s gonna lose it.”

“Next time,” Y/N replied, “we add milk.”

3. The Hotel Lobby Horror

The night before the Monaco Grand Prix, Lando and Y/N were sprawled across a plush couch in the hotel lobby, surrounded by marble floors and overpriced chandeliers. Y/N kicked her sneakers off and propped her feet on Lando’s lap. “If we’re using the feathers,” she said, “I want them everywhere—total coverage, no gaps. It’s gotta be epic.”

Lando smirked, poking her foot. “Fine, but I’m not cleaning up after. Last time, I was picking them out of weird places for days. My socks were shedding for a week.”

Behind the reception desk, a concierge named Philippe—crisp suit, impeccable mustache—nearly dropped his tray of complimentary sparkling waters. Feathers? Total coverage? Weird places? His mind conjured a scene straight out of a risqué rom-com: Lando and Y/N tangled in a pile of plucked pillows, feathers drifting through the air like some avant-garde sex ritual. He coughed, adjusted his tie, and spent the rest of his shift warning coworkers to steer clear of Room 312. “They’re… creative,” he muttered. “Very creative.”

Upstairs, Y/N was sketching a feathered dinosaur costume on a napkin while Lando scrolled through gaming forums. “Think we can get it done before the next stream?” she asked.

“Only if we bribe Carlos with pizza,” Lando said. “He’s got the hot glue gun skills.”

4. The Paddock Panic

The paddock at Spa was buzzing with pre-race energy when Y/N sidled up to Lando near the McLaren hospitality tent. She lowered her voice, but the wind carried it just far enough. “I’m telling you, the harness is key. Strap me in tight, and I’m good for at least twenty minutes.”

Lando chuckled, tossing an energy drink can between his hands. “Twenty? Bold. I’d say fifteen tops before you’re begging to get out. You’re not built for that kind of endurance.”

A journalist from Racing Weekly, lurking behind a potted plant with her notebook out, perked up like a bloodhound. Harness? Strap her in? Endurance? She scribbled furiously, her pen practically smoking. This was it—the scoop of the season. She could already see the headline: “Exclusive: Norris and GF’s BDSM Secrets Revealed!” She pitched it to her editor that night, claiming she’d uncovered the spicy underbelly of F1’s golden boy.

Back at the tent, Y/N adjusted the straps on a go-kart harness, grinning at Lando. “Twenty minutes around the track, and I’ll smoke you,” she said. “Loser buys dinner.”

“You’re on,” Lando replied, “but when you tap out at fifteen, I want extra garlic bread.”

+1. The Truth Comes Out

It all came to a head at a McLaren team dinner after the Italian Grand Prix. The restaurant was cozy, all dim lights and clinking wine glasses, with the team sprawled across a long table. Dave the mechanic was there, still haunted by the cockpit fiasco. Janet, who turned out to be Oscar Piastri’s aunt, had tagged along with a friend. Philippe the concierge, off-duty and visiting a cousin in Monza, sat at the bar. The Racing Weekly journalist hovered near the dessert cart, hoping for more dirt.

Lando and Y/N were at the end of the table, heads bent together as usual. Y/N tapped her fork against her plate. “Lando, if we’re doing the whipped cream thing tonight, we need to prep the tarp. I’m not scrubbing the ceiling again.”

Lando nodded, chewing a breadstick. “Yeah, last time it got everywhere—total disaster. Took me an hour to unstick my shoes.”

The eavesdroppers leaned in, senses tingling. Dave whispered to Pete, “Whipped cream in the cockpit?” Janet clutched her pearls, imagining a dairy-drenched tiger romp. Philippe pictured feathers and cream, while the journalist scribbled, “Kinky Dessert Fetish Confirmed.”

Then Y/N pulled out her phone and shoved it in Lando’s face. “Look, here’s the vid from last time,” she said, loud enough for the table to hear. The screen showed their kitchen, a tarp on the floor, and a towering, wobbly whipped-cream sculpture that collapsed mid-build, splattering them both. Lando’s shriek of “MY HAIR!” echoed through the restaurant as Y/N doubled over laughing on the video.

The table erupted. Oscar snorted into his pasta. “You two are idiots,” he said. Zak Brown shook his head, grinning. “I don’t even want to know.”

Dave dropped his fork. Janet blinked, her scandal evaporating. Philippe coughed into his wine, and the journalist snapped her notebook shut, muttering, “Well, that’s not printable.”

Y/N caught the stares and smirked. “What? It was for a charity bake-off livestream. We raised, like, two grand.”

Lando leaned back, arms behind his head. “Next time, we’re building a spaghetti catapult. Way less sticky.”

The eavesdroppers slunk away, red-faced, as Lando and Y/N clinked glasses, already plotting their next absurd adventure. Their dynamic was weird—borderline unhinged—but it was theirs. Cute, chaotic, and definitely not what anyone thought. Best to just leave them to it.

Please like and repost

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

ive just now realized that your icon is. not arthur in cat ears....

HSGAHSGAJSHJSHS IM CRYING CAS THIS IS SO REAL. UNFORTUNATELY IT IS IN FACT, MR. STARBUCK FROM CLASSIC LIT NOVEL MOBY DICK 💀

but please enjoy a diagram i made bc this made my entire day. they would hate each other's vibes so bad💛

[ID: A traditional drawing of Mr. Starbuck, a lean man with short curly hair, freckles, and a mustache, and Arthur Lester, a stout man with tousled dark hair, many scars, and a mustache. Both wear suits, although Starbuck has a cravat and Arthur a more modern tie. Various facts are written by both characters:

Starbuck's facts are as follows: "Classic literature guy, will be praying for arthur later, gay and trans repression CRAZY, freckles, quiet about his freak, QUAKER, sailor/whaleman, pacifist and very kind to his crew. Nepo baby but the kind of nepo where you die at sea in nicer clothes. The father who drowned."

Arthur's facts are as follows: "podcast guy, would HATE Starbuck's quaker swag, definitely familiar with gay sex, completely feral, has eaten a man, detective, possessed. Orphan with crazy trauma who died and came back 3-4 times. The father who drowned his kid." Also, John says about Starbuck: "john doesn't like this guy." End ID.]

and, for u, arthur in cat ears :3

[ID: A digital drawing of Arthur Lester with purple cat ears. End ID.]

[thedreadvampy]

Music recs please!!!

Due to the Apple Music Apocalypse earlier this year I lost all my playlists, and my festive playlist was due a refresh anyway, so I'm reaching out to you, beautiful friends, to suggest Seasonal Music.

Guidelines:

Overall vibe

I'm looking for a contemporary (ie largely post-70s unless it's a really good one) festive playlist that does not feel like being trapped on a retail floor. Ideally it would include varied takes on the season, whether that's atheist Christmases, non-holiday winter vibes, non-anglo takes, cynical exhaustion with Christmas, New Year/Hogmanay, etc.

The vibe is mellow, perhaps melancholy in places, and with a focus on winter and what it means/feels like rather than Christmas specifically.

Themes (any or several of...)

Wintery imagery (not necessarily holiday-themed - could be a cold clear night, snow/ice, sharp wind, darkness, bare trees, stars, all that good stuff)

Hope/warmth/togetherness type festive feeling

Looking for warmth/light in the dark/cold (successfully or unsuccessfully)

Historic events from December/January

Oh god Christmas is happening batten down the hatches

It can be Christian but the Christianity it should evoke is old world churches, chorales, incense and the creeping shadow of myrrh-scented death, not like. YAY IT'S OUR BOY JESUS WHAT A LAD. I'm a Quaker but to count as a Seasonal Vibe this shit needs to get High Church.

And yeah ok like general holiday type themes are also good

Genres

Basically anything, although in the interests of not sounding too Retail Water Torture and being an alternative playlist I would steer away from jazz, country and choral music. I generally am into:

New wave and dance pop

Electronic, trance and industrial

Punk (including but not limited to pop punk)

Rap (particularly prog/experimental hiphop, and grime)

Metal (primarily numetal and tech metal)

The heavier end of Weird Alternative Bands

Things that have a driving beat or strong momentum

Not...

Alternative covers of Christmas standards by pop punk/metal/pop/whatever acts. There are a billion of them, I do not want them for this playlist.

Heavy/updated versions of Christmas carols or hymns (the exception is that I wouldn't mind finding a good punk cover of Auld Lang Syne, and I don't mind the more obscure/church-only carols like Angels From the Realms of Glory or the Coventry Carol. Also I have already put Christopher Lee's entire Christmas discography on there.)

'I got dumped on Christmas' pop punk songs. I have recently realised how many of these there are and buddy you're not the Ramones.

Anything mawkishly American (and I swear to Christ if it makes me have even a passing thought of Christmas Shoes I will fling myself off a building what is WRONG with American Christmas it's so gross)

Focused specifically on the trappings of Christmas itself (trees, presents, food, stockings, Santa) unless it has something else to say

Super chipper/upbeat or, on the flip side, pointlessly cynical

For the most part, airy/folksy acoustic stuff does very little for me, but it's not a hard line

Any suggestions gratefully received ❤️

[monpanache]

Doctor Odissey ep. 12:

• this second part of the season has been less fun than the first, so far. I still like it but I need some weird situation like the Quakers again

• the patient's boyfriend looks so much like Nathan Lane, it's distracting

• another pregnancy. Yay.

• good for the captain tho, i'm happy if he's happy

• I know the cast has said multiple times that we're gonna get the throuple, but i'm really tired of the love triangle vibes

• overall i think what's really missing is more interactions between Max and Tristan, even though this episode already had more than the previous three

• holding on for dear life to the final show of Max looking at both Tristan and Avery and smiling

• (and also Avery doing the same immediately before)

[elliotly]

Got any book recommendations? All my current collection is stuff written before the year 1980, the joys of buying everything second hand, and I’m looking for newer additions to my little library.

Here’s the ones I rly enjoyed this summer!

Organ Meats by K-Ming Chang (dog women, fleshcore, magical realism, queer childhoods)

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke (a pristine little speculative world, self contained and concise, almost has a storybook feel to me)

Idlewild by James Frankie Thomas (isttvg vibes at a quaker high school, theater teenagers, unreliable narrators)

Babel by R. F. Kuang (19th century anti-colonial dark academia)

Failure to Comply by cavar (ergodic lit and trans cyborgs)

[meirimerens]

re: most recent post. shirt that says I ❤️ MARY

i was raised quaker so when i entered a catholic church for the first time you can imagine my tits were blown clean off. hate the church itself but you can’t deny they went off with the aesthetics unfortunately. love all religious art but i especially love mary. and especially when shes depicted absolutely whaling on some motherfucker i love that. sorry this is a dumb ask but i just needed to share bc she makes me so very happy

I ❤️ MARY i was raised atheist (my dad's a closeted animist, if you mention it he will agree and reiterate his own beliefs in his own words which are animist paraphrase but mostly he dgaf and vibes) but my country is The catholic country after Italy (it's called Roman catholic church after all) like from the baptism to one of our kings in 500AD ish and until the Révolution france was called "the eldest daughter of the Church" right so catholic monuments are Plentiful. and who says "catholic" says "mary". you cannot exhale in this country without your breath hitting a Notre Dame ("Our Lady") whatever. "Notre Dame de" this "Notre Dame de" that. you find little Mary statues just dotting the landscape around.

that and, indeed, we have some banging churches. same as you said Hate The Church (maybe even more deeply because the southwest, where i live, is "cathare country", the "cathares" being a medieval """heretic""" christian sect that the catholic church hunted to extinction through horrible massacres. the "spanish inquisition" is like meme famous at this point, but the Inquisition was first made up during the cathares' time with the explicit purpose of hunting down all the cathares, forcing them to convert or, when they didn't (and they rarely did), killing them) but will not lie. you step into Sainte-Cécile d'Albi... or even some random unassuming, kinda ugly on the outside church in a rural mountain town and here she is...

and then when you're goddessmaxxing mythologicalnarrotologypilled like me you #see you're #seeing how she's been associated with the moon (in mirror to her son, associated with the sun, for the moon shines by reflecting the sun) and that many prechristian goddesses associated with the moon were also virgins (artémis/diane)... you're seeing how her Big Day here in france (l'Assomption) is in mid-august and replaced a roman festival of the Harvest which, while in it's august 15 form, was also to celebrate the Emperor [Augustus], was ALSO reallyyyy close (as in 48hrs later) to a day of celebration for Diane (cf relation above) AND "the harvest" is a topic typically associated to a mother-goddess type (think Demeter/Ceres, Mbaba Mwana Waresa, Etügen Ekhe, Pachamama,...).... you see how in orthodox christianity one of her titles is "mother of god" [theotokos] and you see how Cybele, an antique phrygian goddess, was know as "mother of the gods"... how she is called "queen of heaven", a title shared by pre-dating goddesses such as Isis, Inanna or Astarte...... so you #see all of this and then you consider the Historical mary, this likely teenage girl who had, by all means, something happen to her, because Virgin Birth Not Real Unless You Are Lizard, this likely teenage girl who, potentially by her very word and through an incredible display of rhetorical survival instinct, made of her son that of god's, and watched him die a slow and painful death.

and you #see all this and you're like. aww 🥹 i don't even gaf about your son because his fanclub is sooo annoying and also responsible for some of the worst and bloodiest massacres my land and others have ever seen but i fw you. i fw you heavy.

^ damn that was long. sorry. marypilled goddesshistorymaxxer.

i fw her i fw her heavy.

[oristian]

🩸💃🎵

🩸 “This is the skin of a killer”, or “You smell like a wet dog?” Who would Lucien be in a Twilight AU?

Edward Cullen for sure! Take New Moon for instance—this is currently his life. Staying away due to circumstance that affects both him (as Edward) and Elain (as Bella) and someone (Azriel/Jacob) has stepped in for the time being. We all know how New Moon ends.

💃 Share your Lucien Week plans!

I have five commissions, but two are still currently in progress! Here are snippets from the other three!

🎵 Share a song that reminds you of Lucien!

Anything and everything by Hozier reminds me of Lucien. Any romance song I can apply to him, as well—he’s going to be SJM’s best mated male. This vibe of music from this playlist below also screams Lucien.

[sunspotpony]

As a reminder to anyone who cares about the discourse you just saw, successful grassroots movements require coalition building, and coalition building requires building connections and fostering cooperation with people you partially or fully disagree with, to work towards a specific goal.

Frederick Douglass sat through Seances and ministries with the Quakers, where they purportedly remained silent until they were possessed by the Holy Spirit, to drum up support for abolitionist groups AND the Underground Railroad BOTH. He did this because he understood that he needed collaborators, even if some of their stuff was absolute NONSENSE.

Turns out, sometimes “unserious vibes based groups,” like the Quaker Springs Antislavery Society, can have plenty of impact and play logistical support to things like the direct action of the Underground Railroad while simultaneously working top-down from a political and social perspective.

There is a truth that some people clearly need to read more theory, but I’ve noticed that some people will gladly take elitism to the next level and argue that “unless your verbiage perfectly matches mine, and you agree with everything I say, clearly you haven’t read enough theory,” —

discounting that, some people have read some theory, but maybe not as much as them, and are still able to and SHOULD participate, and that similarly, two people can read the same theory and come to different understandings of it—if reading theory resulted in everyone having the same understanding, leftists wouldn’t fight so damn much amongst themselves.

It’s also just, generally some nonsense elitist crap to fully discount the perspectives of anyone whose academia is not at the same level as yours, as if prior published printed word will always 100% take precedence over lived experience.

They adhere to theory like it’s religion and should remain static and unchanging, because it’s already perfect, and not like it’s quality examinations of circumstance that also came about precisely as the result of people working together to get to the bottom of things.

Marx didn’t spontaneously come up with all these ideas himself. He talked to people. He debated people. He listened to people. He hated some others. He got a sugar daddy. The usual.

[curiokyd]

Quotes from My Anthropology and History Professors from Fall Quarter 2024 - Spring Quarter 2025

"When I need to see the opinions of the world, one of the first places I turn to is Teen Vogue."

"Ringtail lemurs are just girl bosses."

"A lot of these [primate] species look cursed."

"I call macaques the cockroaches of the order."

"As a short king myself, it is infuriating to be called lesser just for being shorter."

"Langurs aren't the best mothers, I'll admit it."

"You don't want to lose all your teeth at 15 and die."

"We eat chicken tendies, not acorns."

"This is why babies kinda look like aliens."

"If you're a primate, are you going to be munching down on a Douglas Fir cone?"

"Let's say that an organism dies, which is unfortunate."

"You don't need me to tell you that Africa is huge."

"The pelvis is giving homo vibes."

"You need big ol' teeth to eat big ol' chunky things."

"And the story is that he was chasing butterflies and nearly fell into the gorge, as one usually does."

"Pizza is not a time-specific food."

"Imagine that you are a cube."

"We're a sack of DNA."

"We're a sack of flesh."

"I don't believe in species."

"There's no correlation between the rates of divorce and the rates of margarine consumption."

"One must have a deep acceptance for chaos."

"He would take his eyes out and juggle them."

"Culverts are the most boring things I'll ever talk about."

"I don't know how the fish mind works."

"Being a parasite is a lovely way of living."

"It's really good, and excuse the expression, at killing children."

"To cure malaria, you need to kill the host - no, not the host. Please don't kill people."

"CHOLERA...is abysmal to have."

"It's natural for us to have an affinity for whales."

"Newborn babies are like underbaked bread."

"He married a bar wench and then a Quaker woman."

"Because these Europeans are bowling all the time"

"The kebab transcends boundaries."

"The aliens were not built by pyramids."

"Woe unto us if we ate soup the wrong way."

"Golden Age of Bullshit."

"Stay the hell away from my camas."

"This time of year is squishy."

"So, your nuclear family goes to the corn store."

"Is the Ice Age still part of your existence?"

"I am 63% certain, which is an oddly specific amount of certainty."

"Just like some of you may worship Costco-"

"I don't burst into flames whenever I walk into a church, so I guess that's good."

"Imagine how stinky you have to be to offend the captain of a whaling ship."

"You have the wrong essence."

"You guys don't count because you're undergraduates."

"I'm not the authority of defining forks."

"I'm a fork guy. I don't talk to people who aren't fork people."

"Maybe your mother's brother is a waste of life."

"The lineage of graduate students dies with me."

"Medieval people are aliens."

"You don't have a soul, you have worms."

"It's like Indiana Jones type shit, you gotta go find out what it is at the end of the fucking road."

"My science is hard, your science is flaccid...yuck."

"The small threshold of experimental archaeology and LARPing."

"Lets not be eco-terrorists."

"It is my right as an American to wear shorts on an archaeological dig."

"You get hit by a guy with a stick riding his horse backward."

"Conquer places with unsexy things, like DMVs."

"You'll die of spicy beef ramen."

"This is my giraffe, piss off."

"Henry VII was a barrel. He was a square."

"All Hungarians are named Orban."

"I want a potato from 7/11."

"The popes banged it out. Not like that."

"No pope was safe, even if he is dead."

"We don't like thinking, it's why we have washing machines and Netflix."

"The Bass Pro Shop pyramid might've been built by aliens."

"I'm a good capitalist, I'll exploit the hell out of you."

"Happiness is not Martin Luther."

"Why would you wear a banana peel on your head?"

"Are you really going to admit that you know the Macarena?"

"The typical French attitude is that they're not Neanderthals."

[solreads]

Stag Dance - Review

Title: Stag Dance

Author: Torrey Peters

Genre: Science Fiction, Contemporary

Audience: Adult

Format: Novel, Novellas

Representation: Trans women POV characters

  Trans side characters

Summary: 

Infect Your Friends and Loved Ones: A disease sweeps the world, eliminating the human body’s ability to produce sex hormones. A trans woman travels the remains of civilization trying to survive and keep access to synthetic hormones while hiding her identity as trans people are blamed for the disease. In flashbacks to pre-contagion times, her tumultuous relationship with the disease’s architect unfolds. 

The Chaser: Two roommates at a Quaker boarding school start a secret and toxic relationship. Shame, desire, and rejection dissolve their relationship into bullying and lies. 

Stag Dance: Isolated on a mountain for months, the woodsmen of an illegal logging operation entertain themselves with a stag dance in which some loggers volunteer to attend and be courted as women. Driven by a repressed desire, the narrator – rough, broad, and renowned for oxlike strength – volunteers. The choice draws the narrator into a strange rivalry, cut through by moments of solidarity, with Lisen, a beautiful young man who had already captured the covetous attentions of the loggers. As the dance grows nearer, the narrator’s desire grows to fully embrace the womanhood the other volunteers only play at. 

The Masker: Attending a Las Vegas party for trans women and crossdressers, a young crossdresser finds herself pursued by an alluring man who plays into all her fantasies of force fem domination and objectification. She’s warned away by an older trans woman who instead offers her sisterhood and support in pursuing the unsexy realities of transition. Caught in the two’s feud and between her own conflicting desires, the main character must choose who to betray. 

Reflections: You have to be in the mood for people doing nasty things to people they should care for as an outlet for their issues that they won’t acknowledge when you start reading this collection. It explores a lot of the dirty edges of transitioning and the love-hate, support and cannibalism, in queer connections/relationships/community. 

The Masker might be my favorite of the collection. It’s kind of vile in a wonderful way. All of these stories feature betrayals of like individuals — girls turning on their sisters, lovers trying to ruin each other — usually born of a perverse, seductive desire for out-group validation, but this one felt the most bitter. Maybe it’s because the betrayal feels more grounded and pedestrian, the way it could traumatize or ruin the victim’s life is something that happens frequently; maybe it’s because this betrayal of all of them, feels the most bleakly pointless and against everyone’s interests or because it’s the one where the victim reciprocates the cruelty the least (towards the main character at least). 

Stag Dance, the main novel of the collection, was the hardest to get into because of some combination of the slow pace (especially compared to the short stories surrounding it) and the style which leans into a historical, western vibe and incorporates a lot of unfamiliar technical and slang terms. But I did get attached to the main character and feel so much sympathy for her. The way she’s inherently forced/assumed to be hyper-masculine by dint of being ugly and large. She can’t even access the conditional tolerance of her femininity and desire to fill a ‘female’ role in the way Lisen does not necessarily just by being more attractive (because men are attracted to the main character too) but by being closer to what they are willing to accept their attraction to. It was heartbreaking, the moments when she is longing so intensely for an expression of her womanhood that she also felt was impossible.

Infect Your Friends and Loved Ones felt like it needed more time if it was going to play out the sci-fi post-apocalyptic survival plot side of things, but it still hit with the emotional journey. Lexi’s “revenge” against cis society/for the suffering caused by transmisogyny starting by violating a fellow trans woman was such a frustrating choice (not narratively, just to witness). 

The teen drama of The Chaser brought in the naivete and youthful uncertainty that felt different than the adult drama of the other stories, although much of the conflict and toxic feelings relating to gender and sexuality were similar. Robbie, despite the social warfare he’s waging, had this odd innocence in thinking things would really be easy and beautiful if the main character would just admit their love. The main character is obtuse and avoidant in a way that also feels so teenage.

Warnings: Depictions of transmisogyny (including from other trans women), internalized transmisogyny, misgendering, dehumanizing language, transphobic slurs, fetishization of trans women, dysphoria. 

Notes on Rep: In Infect Your Friends and Loved Ones the main character identifies on-page as a trans woman. In The Masker and Stag Dance, the characters don’t claim the label of trans women but their experiences read as such.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

What was your inspirations for the quotes of the tags you have for the characters?

Mostly I wanted to keep my stuff out of the tags. It's pretty much solved my harassment problems. But as for what I actually chose, all kinds of things. Old music is a big one. Others come from literature or poetry. A small sampling I had on hand.

America the beautiful for Alfred

Pretty classic American song. I had to memorize for an event so it popped into my head. Plus I like those quaker vibes. All about sharing and shit. 10/10 vibes for an American socialist because this land is your land is still kinda under copyright.

Mon Pays for Matt.

My country is not a country it is winter. This godforsaken country gave me trench foot as a child and I still can't feel my toes plus y'know gotta rub it into the anglos and the nationalist québécois while they're here. It's that slightly sad slightly defiant kind of vibe I love for Matt.

Song of Australia for Jack.

I just come across references to this one all the time in Commonwealth archives and I've just been exposed to it so much I couldn't even think of a better one. It just slaps on all the nature references. Very sunny and optimistic. It's just very Jack.

A Shakespeare monologue for Arthur.

Another unfortunate side effect of my old school education was all the fucken Shakespeare I had to read. I like this one because it kind of hits some points about English reluctance to be a part of Europe and Arthur's somewhat antisocial nature.