You can't afford me.

“New theory: Icarus was trans, because he wanted to be a son so bad he flew straight into one.”

Me, an intellectual:

2018: I literally do not know what fandom I followed any of these people for.

unfollow us. And whilst you’re there, unfollow any trans women you follow, because they don’t deserve such a negative, dangerous presence that you are to them.

And to everybody asking us how we can still enjoy the series whilst hating JK Rowling, I leave you with this —

‘did you say he was a starship captain?’ my guests may enquire timorously.

After two martinis, he’s less snarky. Quieter too, gentler. The three of us walk across the Victoria Bridge, enjoying the crisp air and beauty of the city. It’s a chilly night, the humidity in the air weighing us down. 

I commissioned the incredibly, painfully, amazingly talented @hippano to create a scene from my fic 120 Hours.  And here’s the final product.  Ain’t it gorgeous?  It just … feels so right.  

Like, look at Basher’s hands on her little feeties, and the shadows on Jim’s suit, and the way he’s got his hands in his pockets because he’s trying to maintain the distance between himself and his boyfriend while simultaneously leaning against him, because, dammit, he needs that sort of intimacy, and Basher’s just happy because he’s got his little makeshift family together and its amazing and I love it. 

Commissioning @hippano was a very conscientious decision.  There are, of course, lots of other amazing artists out there willing to create for pay, but this wonderful artist’s works just forces me to feel things.  Like, anytime I see their work, I just feel all the things.  And this piece  evokes the melancholic sort of intimacy that I hoped it would.  I feel lotsa things from this image.  I hope you do as well.