Fangirling and Writer-Nerd Chaos

every gay person has a favorite artery that's just normal.

brachial btw

Transfem self defense zine above

Good articles on transmisogyny and transmisogynoir for a more comprehensive and intersectional look at things. You can follow the author of the final one of these three (Position of Guilt: Black Hot Allostatic Load) on tumblr at @/storyweavingspider

PDF download link for an essay on transmisogynoir.

An actually good resource on transfem healthcare and HRT

But I'm a Cheerleader (1999) dir. Jamie Babbit

do it for the faggots who never got to btw

from this article about trans and gender-diverse elders in Australia. I just love hearing about older multigender people so much <3

“how to engage in courting rituals 1950′s butch style in the bar” an essay by merril mushroom, published in common lives/lesbian lives: a lesbian feminist quarterly no. 4, summer 1982

“experiment with jukebox poses at home” is still my absolute favorite thing and perfectly represents how dorky and ridiculous butches are when it comes to trying to act cool for femmes

[image description: “How to Engage in Courting Rituals 1950′s Butch Style in the Bar: An Essay” by Merril Mushroom, published in Common Lives/Lesbian Lives: a Lesbian Feminist Quarterly no. 4, Summer 1982, including the subheadings Ritual #1 Cruising, Ritual #2—The Buying of the Drink, Ritual #3— The Playing of the Jukebox, Ritual #4 the Approach, Ritual #5 The Lighting of the Cigarette, Ritual #6 The Asking to Dance, Ritual #7 The Dancing, The Slow Dance, Fast Dancing, and Latin Dancing. Full image description under “Keep reading”.]

Keep reading

The Watermelon Woman (1996) dir. Cheryl Dunye

Hey this movie is really important in queer history! It was the first feature length film directed by a black lesbian! You can watch it here for free!

I really recommend you do because while it is a rom-com (and a drama), it also looks at how the stories of black queers are over looked in history.

Obviously the key reason to get into weaving is the near limitless pride flag potential.

This is 8 metres of trans warp threaded for 5 different twills. Winding the warp went SO MUCH BETTER than my first project a couple weeks ago and I am especially proud of how smoothly my warp chains unravelled.

With the trans yarns I also ordered sample cards for a couple different yarn companies so that I can compose some rainbow flag variants.

Hype hype hypeeeee

Enjoying the funky mirror effects of the reed

Away we gooooooo

Various pattern changes and the pattern supervisor

The largest mass shooting in American history was a hate crime against gay people. Don’t ever forget that.

June 12, 2016. Putting a date on this for when it gets reblogged months from now by people who think the post is about something from 30, 40 years ago.

I am a survivor of the Pulse nightclub shooting, having grown up in Orlando and just turned 20 a month prior. If you didn’t know, there were several families who refused to claim the bodies of their relatives due to their sexuality. One family even had their relative’s name removed from the memorial. Murdered by the same hate with which their families reject them in both life and death.

Many, many people celebrated Pulse. We were told we deserved it. That it was God’s punishment for our sin of loving the same sex. We are sent messages like these I received in 2018:

We in the community often call the victim count 49+ to include the survivors who couldn’t live with the pain.

The event was never officially declared a hate crime or targeted homophobic attack and is rarely listed as one in databases.

At our vigils for those slaughtered, Extremist Christian groups showed up to protest, holding signs like this:

ID: Me kissing a woman I was casually seeing in front of an angry looking man with a “Sodomy is Sin” sign.

Please understand how much more than just a mass shooting this was. We are still to this day harassed and told we deserved it by some.

This year was the sixth anniversary. The first couple years I received dozens of messages checking in on me on 6/12. Year 5 got enough news coverage for people to think to reach out to me. This year it was my therapist, the woman I kissed in that photo, and a couple of other gun violence survivor friends. People are forgetting already.

With the 7 year anniversary <2 weeks away, I figured I’d reblog this

For anyone LGBTQIA+: have you come out to your parents/guardians?

Obvi this is mostly for people whose guardians don't already know or have found out second-hand, etc. I am also interested in why people have or have not come out, so anyone who wants to elaborate on that, please so so in the replies!

new piece about queer conventions of attractiveness, body hair, and my own transition <3

this is exquisite, OP

@tesco-finest-aromantics

my dad took me to see brokeback mountain in theaters because it was not even a little bit promoted as a queer love story, so we had no idea. he was just like "cowboy movie! yeehaw" and then my dad realized what was going on before I did, and we watched people scream and throw food and walk out throwing tantrums, and my very undiagnosed anxiety disorder skyrocketed because of the crowd reaction. my dad asked if we needed to leave, I said the crowd was stressing me out but I was liking the movie. so he said "cool. let them leave and enjoy it in peace" which is what we did, and then I kept watching and I understood™️ and my anxiety did not get better, but on the drive home the only thing dad said was "well! they told a hell of a love story" and he said the nervous dad cackle, and at 14 I didn't get him very much at all, but I think he knew years before I knew and he was trying to figure out how to tell me it was okay.

So, I'm trans. And several years ago, I was at my great grandfather's funeral. 17, newly on T, barely out to anyone other than my close friends and family. And I'm standing there at the refreshment's table, surrounded by strangers and members of my family's church, when George walks up to me.

This man is ancient, bent like a finger and frail. Tufts of white hair surround his wrinkled face. Like always, he's wearing thick glasses, massive hearing aids, and his veteran's hat. George was my first introduction to the concept of war, when he told me as a child why he was missing two fingers on his hand. He's been a fixture at church since I can remember. I've only ever seen him at there or in uniform at parades, the rest of his time spent in a nursing home somewhere. He picks up a deviled egg and says, in his quiet voice,

"You know, before your grandfather died, he told me that now he had 3 grandsons."

I'm frozen in place. I don't know what to say to that, if I should say anything at all. This is not a conversation I expected to have, especially not with this man. But he continues.

"I didn't know what he meant! So he explained it to me."

And I can imagine it. My great grandfather, uninformed and opinionated but supportive, explaining to his friend the news he barely understood himself over after-service coffee and cookies. His eldest grandchild was now a boy.

"And, you know, I didn't know what to think."

Here, George looks me up and down. This 90-something year old war veteran, who knew me mostly as the little girl playing in the church kitchen with his wife, processing what my great grandfather had really meant. It feels like a long pause, even thought it probably passed in a second.

"But you look good. So, eh!"

And then he smiled, shrugged, and walked away without another word. If I was fine, if I was happier, then that's all that mattered.

George passed away this week, at the age of 99. This memory has been bouncing around in my head for a while, but I wasn't sure if or how I should share it. It was a conversation that meant very little, but also meant the world. It was scary, and funny, and the moment when I realized that sometimes the people you least expect will accept you. Sometimes, even if they don't fully understand, even if they barely know you, someone will choose to support you. And that will always matter.

“Trapped”

You are loved.

image description expanded upon from alt text:

A poem by Kai Cheng Thom, as it appears in Queer Little Nightmares: An Anthology of Monstrous Fiction and Poetry, that reads:

ON THE ORIGIN OF TRANS FEMMES

for Meredith Russo

we are the daughters of witches that they could and did burn we are the daughters of witches that they are still burning & you know in my dreams, a woman keeps whispering: keep going maybe in the next lifetime we’ll make it to the water