I guess more specifically it's like, you can really really tell when someone is doing "these characters are in love and orbit each other obsessively but can't actually fuck about it" as an interesting and compelling narrative choice (usually as an expression of like, repression, failure, the unresolved, etc.) vs when this same kind of repression narrative is happening at the heart of what's supposed to be a narrative about a healthy friendship that we as watchers feel good about.
the director of challengers does not need to do interviews going like "it's actually central to the narrative that those men don't fuck" because anybody with a functional sense of how movies work can figure that one out on their own. The honor of doing the It's Better When They Don't Do It press junket is reserved for showrunners in search of unearned praise
[ ID: art of a muscular person's back. They are shirtless and wearing black jeans and chaps. Their back has spots of acne, and the areas with the most acne also has scratch marks. end ID ]
everyone loves to hate terfs until they realise that it actually entails rejecting bioessentialism entirely and then suddenly you’re “taking things too seriously” and you “don’t have a sense of humour” like i’m sorry but saying protect the dolls doesn’t make you immune to terfism it has seeped into every corner of mainstream feminism and unless you’re actively searching it out and checking your own biases you will always be at risk of sharing a space with terfs
“Only women can—” nope. “But all men—” nah. “The divine femininity of—” gonna stop you right there. “Everyone born ama—” if you finish that sentence I’ll kill you. “Men don’t experience—” you’re wrong. “Gender isn’t real but sex is imm—” *loud incorrect buzzer*
It also goes without saying that bioessentialism inherently can’t be trans inclusive no matter how hard you try. “All men including trans men—” probably not. “This is only a woman’s issue—” is it really? “Afabs only—” why? “All trans men are like—” what? what are they like? finish the sentence i dare you.
I keep thinking about Eridians and Rocky’s gem from Adrian and his celebration outfit.
The little stone rocky had from adrian was literally in his arm, and it made me think about Grace getting a stone like that from Rocky, which lead to me wondering if Grace could have it in his skin somehow. Earrings. Earrings would be perfect for this.
I was ALSO thinking about Rocky’s celebration outfit- who’s to say Grace can’t have something similar? Celebration jewellery for the local alien! Earrings that dangle and make pretty sounds when Grace moves.
another fun thing about bootblacking — it's as much of a kink as it isn't.
and by this, i mean: it's labor!
we have to look beyond kink into the vanilla/non-kink world to see the only remaining examples of shoe care as a job. the only examples i can think of are shoe-cleaning mall kiosks and, maybe, a chair or two in an airport terminal or fancy hotel. but these places are dwindling, if they even still remain at all. consumerism and planned obsolescence has invaded fashion so much that most people aren't concerned with the upkeep of their actual leather shoes, let alone sneakers or pleather boots.
(edit: cobblers and shoe repair most certainly count, but in this instance i'm referring to chairs or kiosks that maintain the footwear without disassembling it, although there are many bootblacks that can provide services like these.)
this, compounded with the cost barrier to leather gear and a much smaller community post-AIDS of the 1980's i believe has made bootblacking much more scarce in kink circles. i mentored under a bootblack that primarily works bars and club events, and have gone on to do the same myself, and... not many people even know what a bootblack is anymore. i've met people in full cow at the local Eagle who have never even heard of our existence. i was in the right place at the right time and met the right people in order to be able to sub/apprentice under one, and that in itself is a privelege nowadays. instructional videos are lovely, but there's nothing like working with the real thing to practice.
getting booked at events is a headache in and of itself, which is where the talk of labor comes in. if you are bootblacking, you are doing physical labor. it doesn't matter if you're working a pup social at a leather bar, or a private residence party, it is labor. on average, i scrub and polish a shift at a bar event for 5 hours (8pm to 1am) with very few breaks. on a good night, i can polish usually 6 or 7 customers in that 5 hour shift, and that's if nobody comes to me with a Langlitz project or a full set of chaps. tipping your bootblack is crucial, because 90% of the time, that's how we make any money at all.
bootblacking is how i have kept my boyfriend, my cats and i fed many times. and it is very hard to find an event nowadays that will pay a bootblack up front to be there for the night — most just "allow you to keep tips" and maybe comp you a drink or two. at this point i just have a menu of my services that i provide, and i turn away folks who cannot pay or barter. (i, personally, will take coffee as payment for boots and harnesses.) this often means i make less than minimum wage for 5 hours of physical labor.
my point being: bootblacking is a kink, but it will likely be found today more often as a job leatherfolk will take up at an event, much like a vendor. the more public adult spaces where we can actually express it as a kink the better, and those are growing incredibly scarce. and the people willing to pay us even more so, despite how much upkeep leather gear like boots and jackets should be getting.
J. J. Cromer, Untitled Structures 40, 2016, ink and colored pencil on vintage calligraphy paper, 8 x 6.75 inches (photo courtesy of American Primitive Gallery)
Guys, I heard children outside in the backyard of my school, and i’m on the fifth floor, but right above the playground, so I threw a paper airplane with a little message on it to them, and then they got excited so I threw another one, and then I threw another, and then another, and then they started making requests like “tell us a story” and I wrote a little thing about me throwing airplanes out the window or “draw us a picture of yourself” and i drew a picture that didn’t look too great but they thought it was fun and they’d expectantly wait and I’d throw another and they’d be screaming and chasing it and trying to figure out who i am and stuff and after twenty minutes, and, like, forty airplanes i sent one that said “do you wanna see me” and they were excited and started chanting so i threw one that said “countdown” and they counted down from ten and then i actually poked my head out the window because they still hadn’t seen me yet and i had a handful of, like, twenty paper airplanes with me and i threw them all one at a time as they tried to catch them like a giant ticket blaster at chuckie cheese, and the look of pure delight and joy on those kids’ faces was worth all that time and paper.
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