Phooey @casper-b0i - Tumblr Blog

dysphoria is a bitch because if I look how I want to look I’ll look like a girl but I don’t want to look like a girl I want to look like a boy who looks like a girl

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sakura-haruka

This all started when the Joker and I broke up. It was completely mutual. And soon enough, I was back on my feet, ready to embrace the goddess within.

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Slytherin/Son of Hades/Trans Boy Aesthetic for anon

LGBT culture

Everyone either sits like a slob or snobby rich dick while the gays are constantly finding new ways to incorporate the floor is lava into their seating position

#lgbtq #Lesbian #Gay #trans #beautiful #true self #androgyne #androgony #androgynous #gayboy #Trans boy

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(please click for better quality)

a comic for tdor featuring lyrics from “famous last words” by mcr. that song hits different today.

this trans day of remembrance, remember not only those we have lost, but our trans brothers, sisters and siblings that are here with us, struggling along side us. we are each other’s family; we are each other’s home.

honor the dead. fight for the living. stay safe.

mymoonymine

Sirius: Oh, shit!

Remus: Sirius, don’t curse. We are in public.

Sirius: Mamma mia, that’s a spicy meatball!

Remus: You know what? Just say fuck.

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Medusa is a lesbian. One day, you, a young blind woman, accidentally walks into her cave.

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In Greece, only five hundred years after Zeus took the world from the Titans, misogyny is barely known. Women are allowed to be vibrant and independent, and are well represented by figures such as Kore after being renamed Persephone, “Chaos Bringer”, and Artemis, chaste goddess of the hunt.

But one woman wishes that someone would help.

Her name was Sappheire. She was named for the glinting blue of her eyes, which was ironic, since she was completely blind. But not much was known about blindness and not many believed in it.

So she learned the streets without help, memorized the never changing prices in the market, and learned to cook by feeling around first.

She still loved exploring, however. Despite the warnings of a snake haired woman who could turn you to stone just by looking into your eyes, she explored. It would have no effect on her, she reasoned. Her eyes didn’t work.

One day, she wandered too far. She could feel the air cooling, hear the birds begin to quiet and head home. She knew the sun was going down.

She felt stone beneath her feet, and wandered along it. Maybe she had found a cave? Either way, she would have to somehow find shelter so she could find her way back to the dusty dirt roads of home.

She felt along, and soon her suspicions were confirmed. She felt the mouth of a cave start to open, and ducked inside. She breathed a sigh of relief, sinking to the ground. She would be safe here tonight.

A chuckle came from what sounded like the back of the cave. Sappheire directed her ear toward the sound.

Footsteps approached her. “It’s been a long time since we ate, hasn’t it?” There was snakelike hissing in response, and the footsteps stopped in front of Sappheire.

Sappheire shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut instinctively, Her chin was grabbed roughly, and she was forced to face the other person in the cave. Her eyes were forced open by what felt like a tiny jaw.

Her eyes were wide with fear, but they couldn’t see the piercing emerald green orbs staring back into hers.

——————-

The gorgon held her position for a minute. Two. Still, it did nothing. She dropped the girl’s (rather cute) chin in disgust. “Why isn’t this working?!”

Finally, the girl began to say something, and when she did, the snake- haired lady decided she liked this girl’s voice better even than Kalliope’s.

“M-Medusa?” She stammered.

Medusa rolled her eyes. “Oh, what gave me away. The snake hair or the face?” She quipped sarcastically.

The girl paused, and Medusa mentally kicked herself. The first girl she didn’t petrify, for whatever reason, and she was going to drive her away!

She had to, though. She would only bring the poor girl sadness and loss.

“W-well, I can’t see either, actually.” The girl said timidly. She stood, flailing her arm out as if blindly grabbing for something. She found Medusa’s shoulder and trailed her hand down her arm, grabbing her hand and shaking it. “I’m Sappheire.”

Medusa shook her hand warily. “Are you sure you should be giving me your name? Those hold great power.”

Sappheire shrugged. “I know yours, so it’s only fair.”

Medusa blinked. That was a first.

She shook her head. “Shouldn’t you be terrified of me?”

Sappheire gave her an odd look. “Why? My eyes don’t work, so you can’t hurt me. I’ve never heard of you actually killing someone, so I’m not particularly worried about that. Something tells me you’re just lonely, but you drive people away so you don’t hurt them. And when they don’t heed your warnings… Well, that’s where the ‘terrifying gorgon’ rumors come from.”

Medusa scowled. “What would you know about that?”

Sappheire gave her a sad smile, and Medusa’s eyes were drawn to hers again. “More than you know.” She said.

Oh. Was all Medusa could think. The humans wouldn’t understand Sappheire’s blindness. They probably didn’t believe in it. Sappheire was probably left to figure out the things others took for granted, learning it slowly, left behind by others when she took too long.

Sappheire was probably very lonely.

The girl groaned, drawing Medusa’s attention to her. Her eyes were closed, but not in fear. “Medusa?”

Medusa blinked, not used to hearing her voice without fear dripping from it. “Yes?”

“Can I stay here tonight? I don’t think I can find my way back to the village before dark.”

Medusa’s heart leaped into her throat. No one had ever asked to stay with her. No one. She felt… happy.

“O-of course.”

She let a few moments pass before she had to ask the question that ate away at her. “Sappheire?”

“Mmm?”

“Are you… afraid of me?”

Sappheire opened her eyes. “No. But when I got in here, and all I knew was that I heard dark chuckling and footsteps, and I didn’t know who it was, I was afraid. If I had known it was you, I wouldn’t have been.”

Medusa paused. She looked down. “You’re very foolish.”

“So I’ve been told…” Sappheire sighed. Her breathing deepened. She was asleep.

———————–

Morning came, and Medusa had decided to help her back to the village. She could feel some sort of blossoming in her heart, echoes of things she hadn’t felt in centuries. But humans were not meant to be near her. It would be selfish to let her stay.

But still, she stayed up all night hunting. It took her a while to catch a prey without it even glancing into her eye, so she could feed some non- stone to Sappheire.

She cooked it over a smoky fire (she didn’t know how to find kindling that wouldn’t smoke quite so much), which woke Sappheire. The girl stood and began making her way to the fire, and Medusa rushed to help her.

“No, I can handle it.” Sappheire told her.

Medusa stepped back. Of course. She was a gorgon, of course Sappheire didn’t want her to touch her.

Sappheire seemed to sense this. “No, it’s not that. I just… Like to feel independent in some respects, even if I’d like help other times.” She smiled. “I promise, if I need help, I’ll let you help me.”

Medusa looked up at the raven-haired girl. “Promise…” Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, but that word means nothing to me.”

Sappheire looked at her unseeingly, but feeling the pain in those words. She stumbled over, feeling around for Medusa’s hand before holding it in both of hers. “Medusa? I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Do you want to talk about it?”

Medusa looked down. “I… Poseidon. The reason I’m like this. He masqueraded as a woman to me. Promised me he loved me. Then he took me to the temple of Athena- that poor woman, I bear no grudge for her- and Athena got rightfully angry. She exposed him and turned my hair to snakes. Now, I petrify everyone I look at. I…”

Medusa looked down. “I don’t want to do it. I don’t mean to. I hate this. I-”

Sappheire wrapped her arms around Medusa, and Medusa stopped her sentence. Medusa let her hands hang, unsure of what to do “Why are you…”

Sappheire smiled. “You sounded like you needed it.”

Medusa let her hands wrap around Sappheire. Whatever the reason for Sappheire’s immunity to her power, be it her blindness or Aphrodite cutting her a break, she was going to make it last until Sappheire went back.

——————————-

“I’m not going back.” Sappheire stated. She tried to look Medusa in the eye while she said it, to assert herself, but wound up looking closer to her nose.

Medusa was in shock. “Wha- why not?”

Sappheire’s eyes widened. “D-do you want me to? Gods, I didn’t even consider your feelings, did I, and you would have to be the one to feed me, I’m sorry-”

Medusa cut her off. “No, I do want you to, but why do you want to?”

Sappheire blushed. “I don’t know, I just like it here…”

Medusa grinned from ear to ear. “Okay.”

Sappheire’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Medusa nodded. “Of course.”

———————————-

It was a year later, exactly. It was fifty- one weeks after they’d started dating.

They sat, holding hands, at the top of a hill full of flowers.

Medusa rested her head on Sappheire’s shoulder, and Sappheire used her free hand to affectionately play with the snakes that had grown quite fond of her.

“Sometimes I wish you could see this. It really is beautiful.” Medusa mumbled.

Sappheire smiled. “If I could, I wouldn’t be here. So, funny as it sounds, I thank the gods every day that I can’t see it.

Medusa raised her head, turning to look at Sappheire. “I’m so glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you too.”

Medusa put a gentle hand on the side of Sappheire’s face, guiding it gently toward her own. Sappheire hoped she guessed what was coming and leaned forward.

Their lips met in a soft and gentle yet prolonged kiss. Sappheire wrapped her arms around Medusa and Medusa put her hands on Sappheire’s back.

Sappheire was the first to break their first kiss. “I love you, Medusa.” She whispered.

Medusa smiled tearfully. She never thought she’d hear those words again, much less believe them. But here she was. “I love you, too.” And she swiftly moved forward to initiate their second, but certainly not their last, kiss.

smashndash7777

I’m on the verge of tears over here.

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This is the ship we need!

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My heart…it’s so full of happiness…

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I’m not really hard to please, I like neck kisses and pizza.

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R’amen

rosetintmyworld84

Rick Riordan won a Stonewall award today

for his second Magnus Chase book, due to the inclusion of the character Alex Fierro who is gender fluid. This was the speech he gave, and it really distills why I love this author and his works so much, and why I will always recommend his works to anyone and everyone.

“Thank you for inviting me here today. As I told the Stonewall Award Committee, this is an honor both humbling and unexpected.

So, what is an old cis straight white male doing up here? Where did I get the nerve to write Alex Fierro, a transgender, gender fluid child of Loki in The Hammer of Thor, and why should I get cookies for that?

These are all fair and valid questions, which I have been asking myself a lot.

I think, to support young LGBTQ readers, the most important thing publishing can do is to publish and promote more stories by LGBTQ authors, authentic experiences by authentic voices. We have to keep pushing for this. The Stonewall committee’s work is a critical part of that effort. I can only accept the Stonewall Award in the sense that I accept a call to action – firstly, to do more myself to read and promote books by LGBTQ authors.

But also, it’s a call to do better in my own writing. As one of my genderqueer readers told me recently, “Hey, thanks for Alex. You didn’t do a terrible job!” I thought: Yes! Not doing a terrible job was my goal!

As important as it is to offer authentic voices and empower authors and role models from within LGBTQ community, it’s is also important that LGBTQ kids see themselves reflected and valued in the larger world of mass media, including my books. I know this because my non-heteronormative readers tell me so. They actively lobby to see characters like themselves in my books. They like the universe I’ve created. They want to be part of it. They deserve that opportunity. It’s important that I, as a mainstream author, say, “I see you. You matter. Your life experience may not be like mine, but it is no less valid and no less real. I will do whatever I can to understand and accurately include you in my stories, in my world. I will not erase you.”

People all over the political spectrum often ask me, “Why can’t you just stay silent on these issues? Just don’t include LGBTQ material and everybody will be happy.” This assumes that silence is the natural neutral position. But silence is not neutral. It’s an active choice. Silence is great when you are listening. Silence is not so great when you are using it to ignore or exclude.

But that’s all macro, ‘big picture’ stuff. Yes, I think the principles are important. Yes, in the abstract, I feel an obligation to write the world as I see it: beautiful because of its variations. Where I can’t draw on personal experience, I listen, I read a lot – in particular I want to credit Beyond Magenta and Gender Outlaws for helping me understand more about the perspective of my character Alex Fierro – and I trust that much of the human experience is universal. You can’t go too far wrong if you use empathy as your lens. But the reason I wrote Alex Fierro, or Nico di Angelo, or any of my characters, is much more personal.

I was a teacher for many years, in public and private school, California and Texas. During those years, I taught all kinds of kids. I want them all to know that I see them. They matter. I write characters to honor my students, and to make up for what I wished I could have done for them in the classroom.

I think about my former student Adrian (a pseudonym), back in the 90s in San Francisco. Adrian used the pronouns he and him, so I will call him that, but I suspect Adrian might have had more freedom and more options as to how he self-identified in school were he growing up today. His peers, his teachers, his family all understood that Adrian was female, despite his birth designation. Since kindergarten, he had self-selected to be among the girls – socially, athletically, academically. He was one of our girls. And although he got support and acceptance at the school, I don’t know that I helped him as much as I could, or that I tried to understand his needs and his journey. At that time in my life, I didn’t have the experience, the vocabulary, or frankly the emotional capacity to have that conversation. When we broke into social skills groups, for instance, boys apart from girls, he came into my group with the boys, I think because he felt it was required, but I feel like I missed the opportunity to sit with him and ask him what he wanted. And to assure him it was okay, whichever choice he made. I learned more from Adrian than I taught him. Twenty years later, Alex Fierro is for Adrian.

I think about Jane (pseudonym), another one of my students who was a straight cis-female with two fantastic moms. Again, for LGBTQ families, San Francisco was a pretty good place to live in the 90s, but as we know, prejudice has no geographical border. You cannot build a wall high enough to keep it out. I know Jane got flack about her family. I did what I could to support her, but I don’t think I did enough. I remember the day Jane’s drama class was happening in my classroom. The teacher was new – our first African American male teacher, which we were all really excited about – and this was only his third week. I was sitting at my desk, grading papers, while the teacher did a free association exercise. One of his examples was ‘fruit – gay.’ I think he did it because he thought it would be funny to middle schoolers. After the class, I asked to see the teacher one on one. I asked him to be aware of what he was saying and how that might be hurtful. I know. Me, a white guy, lecturing this Black teacher about hurtful words. He got defensive and quit, because he said he could not promise to not use that language again. At the time, I felt like I needed to do something, to stand up especially for Jane and her family. But did I make things better handling it as I did? I think I missed an opportunity to open a dialogue about how different people experience hurtful labels. Emmie and Josephine and their daughter Georgina, the family I introduce in The Dark Prophecy, are for Jane.

I think about Amy, and Mark, and Nicholas … All former students who have come out as gay since I taught them in middle school. All have gone on to have successful careers and happy families. When I taught them, I knew they were different. Their struggles were greater, their perspectives more divergent than some of my other students. I tried to provide a safe space for them, to model respect, but in retrospect I don’t think I supported them as well as I could have, or reached out as much as they might have needed. I was too busy preparing lessons on Shakespeare or adjectives, and not focusing enough on my students’ emotional health. Adjectives were a lot easier for me to reconcile than feelings. Would they have felt comfortable coming out earlier than college or high school if they had found more support in middle school? Would they have wanted to? I don’t know. But I don’t think they felt it was a safe option, which leaves me thinking that I did not do enough for them at that critical middle school time. I do not want any kid to feel alone, invisible, misunderstood. Nico di Angelo is for Amy, and Mark and Nicholas.

I am trying to do more. Percy Jackson started as a way to empower kids, in particular my son, who had learning differences. As my platform grew, I felt obliged to use it to empower all kids who are struggling through middle school for whatever reason. I don’t always do enough. I don’t always get it right. Good intentions are wonderful things, but at the end of a manuscript, the text has to stand on its own. What I meant ceases to matter. Kids just see what I wrote. But I have to keep trying. My kids are counting on me.

So thank you, above all, to my former students who taught me. Alex Fierro is for you.

To you, I pledge myself to do better – to apologize when I screw up, to learn from my mistakes, to be there for LGBTQ youth and make sure they know that in my books, they are included. They matter. I am going to stop talking now, but I promise you I won’t stop listening.”