feroxargentea

[socialistexan]

French-Iranian author Marjane Satrapi, author of 'Persepolis', dies of 'sadness' at 56

French-Iranian author and illustrator Marjane Satrapi, best known for the book and film “Persopolis”, has died of "sadness", members of her

This one hurt, her work had such a profound effect on my life, thoughts, and politics.

May her memory be a blessing

[theartofbeingblack]

Marjane Satrapi, cartoonist and film director, best known for Persepolis

22 November 1969 - 4 June 2026

[middlepeep]

This old thing

[moonlightingcurse]

And this is hard, anyway, because I can’t take any meaning from the text.  Ophelia’s just singing nonsense songs.

[invisible-goats]

In honour of having it for tea two days in a row due to weather

Fellow brits: what do you call a meal that is made up of various bits and bobs such as might be found in a picnic?

Bitsa

Picky bits

Indoor picnic

Buffet

Nibbles

British tapas

Beige dinner

Something else

Voting ended onMay 29

God it's hard to phrase this question in a non-biasing way. Also I promise I've encountered all of these phrases irl

if something else please tell me what!

ok now that you've voted i call it bitsa (short for bitsa this and bitsa that) because that's what my mum calls it and if you call it picky bits i assume you shop at m&s and use phrases like holibobs and hubby

[middlepeep]

More shameless screenshot drawing

[mkinnon]

my aesthetic is gillian anderson completely forgetting all her lines in the first season of the x files

[oneafternineonine]

i would totally watch entire episodes of this

[the-blazin-asian]

someONE someTHING where we dug up ˢᵒᵐᵉ…thingsome

BODY

SOMETHING

*inhale* THAT I CAN’T EXPLAIN ᴵᴹ ᴳᴼᴺᴺᴬ ˢᵀᴬᴿᵀ ᶠᴿᴼᴹ ᵀᴴᴱ ᵀᴼᴾ

Agent Miles (ahuhuhuh)

Agent

MULDER

I AM STANDING HERE IN

The rain

AND

2. The mud

LOOKING AT TWO COFFINS THAT WE—AGENT MULDER I AM STANDING OUT HERE IN

The rain

AND

The mud

AND

The rain

ᵃⁿᵈ…ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵒⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵃ… ⁿᵉᵇᵇᶦⁿ’ˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ (nemmin’s body) ⁿᵉᵐᵐᶦⁿ’ˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ

AND THE FORCE SUMMONED TERESA NEMMIN’S BODY………………INTO THE WOODS TONIGHT

⁽ⁿᵒ, ᵍᵒ ᵃᵍᵃᶦⁿ, ᵍᵒ ᵃᵍᵃᶦⁿ⁾

AND TERESA NEMMIN’S AND THE PUH-

AND THE FORCE…..IT

Summoned

TERESA NEMMINS,,,,

INTO,,,,,

the woods tonight

*crowd goes utterly apeshit off camera*

[leona-florianova]

No? What about complete emasculation?

[idlesuperstar]

Happy 100th Birthday David Attenborough [b: 8th May 1926]

It seems to me that the natural world is the greatest source of excitement; the greatest source of visual beauty; the greatest source of intellectual interest. It is the greatest source of so much in life that makes life worth living.

(I have made quite a lot of gifsets of this man over the years)

[middlepeep]

Still obsessed. Send help.

[cheesybadgers]

So, I attended this event last Friday as part of York Literature Festival and what a privilege it was to listen to Susanna talk in the city that inspired so much of JSAMN. It's the second time I've seen her in person, but there was definitely something extra special about seeing her in York.

I'm sure I've forgotten loads of fascinating nuggets of details she shared, but here are just a few personal favourites:

She read snippets from both JSAMN (she aptly chose 'The Stones of York', given the venue was just down the road from the Minster) and Piranesi, which was a real treat.

Someone in the audience asked how Mr Norrell and Childermass met and whether there were any lost footnotes about their origin story and Susanna replied, "I think there's some fan fiction on that" 👀

She's currently working on two books: one about Bradford, as she grew up there. And the other is set in the JSAMN universe, but she wouldn't say anything else about it.

Surprisingly, she had only visited York once with an old boyfriend prior to writing JSAMN. She based the majority of her knowledge of the layout of the city etc. on paper maps.

Even as a hobbyist fic writer, I heavily related to a lot of her thoughts on the writing process, particularly about only being able to do a lot of writing or reading at any given time (i.e. if she's writing, she can't do much reading and vice versa). Someone also asked about how she goes about researching and she alluded to getting lost down rabbit holes and wondering why she'd need half of what she'd read. She joked that if she needed to include a fork in her writing, she'd end up reading up about the history of forks and I've never felt more seen 🤣

Although she said she doesn't do much reading nowadays, someone in the audience asked about contemporary books she'd enjoyed and she named The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison and Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro.

She said Childermass was always very easy to write and that he would just ride in, say "I've got this" and take over (which sounds so very Childermass ❤️).

She loved the BBC TV adaptation and went to watch some of it being filmed. She said both Bertie Carvel and Eddie Marsan were the inverse of their characters: Bertie was very meticulous, well-researched and wanted to rehearse a lot, whereas Eddie was happy to just turn up and wing it lol.

She talked about some of the film deals that never panned out, including one studio who had just dealt with a situation in relation to another author/adaptation where they were accused of ripping off someone else's book and the whole project had to be scrapped. As a result, they wanted to know which books had inspired JSAMN. Susanna’s people sent back a list of over 200 books and the studio didn't believe her and expected her to name just one other title as inspiration?!

The footnotes in JSAMN were originally only meant for Susanna's enjoyment, but the publishers (thankfully) left them in.

She let a friend read a draft of Piranesi after she finished it and told him she didn’t think it was big enough to be a novel. He replied her idea of what a novel is must have been skewed by the size of JSAMN lol.

[duesouth139]

due SOUTH HD

due SOUTH Season 1 - Internet Archive https://archive.org/details/due-south-hd-Season-1

due SOUTH Season 2 - Internet Archive https://archive.org/details/due-south-hd-Season-2

due SOUTH Season 3 - Internet Archive https://archive.org/details/due-south-hd-Season-3

due SOUTH Season 4 - Internet Archive https://archive.org/details/due-south-hd-Season-4

When I saw that they took down Due South HD Youtube channel I was upset, so I looked for the best site that would allow them and have the lowest chance of being taken down and I loaded them and I want to share them. Because I'm mad at Youtube LOL

If the Due South HD ever comes back I will take these down because I respect him and what he did for my favorite show but until then this is the best I can do to make myself feel better for their absence.

PS. if there's any problem let me know in the comments here

[gjdraws]

old man hasn't changed a bit

[sixth-light]

Fun, and by fun I mean grim, things you learn doing fic research: a hell of a lot of post-Mountie on the Bounty fic technically has Fraser and RayK committing a felony punishable by up to fifteen years in prison (life for a second offense!), as of the time the show is set. Illinois and Michigan took wildly different stances on decriminalisation of homosexuality in the second half of the 20th century apparently 😬😬😬

[sixth-light]

#suppose fraser knows this#and it explains his maddening vacillations#'as of now we are in the great state of michigan'#'therefore it was buddy breathing' ( @petymology )

well this isn't exactly that story, but

By the time they lay down in the motel on the US side of the border, Ray had gone so far past tired he was in some sort of weird fugue state. He blamed that for the way he couldn’t stop thinking about Fraser’s insane definition of “buddy breathing.”

Escaping the Henry Anderson – Allen – he told the Fraser in his own head to shut the hell up – it had been one long nightmare of cold water and dim light and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, knowing he was going to die. And right in the middle there had been Fraser’s mouth on his, cold lips and warm tongue and sweet, sweet air blowing into his lungs, and once again: buddy breathing? Ray didn’t really know what that was, but he was sure it didn’t involve tongue.  

But then Fraser had had the nerve to say it changed nothing. At the time that had been – kinda helpful, maybe, because Ray had had way too much to worry about without that as well. Now he was mad about it all over again. How dare he. How dare Fraser do that and then say it meant nothing. It wasn’t the sort of thing you could do to a guy if you weren’t prepared to mean it. Or maybe it was different up in the Northwest Yukon or wherever, maybe you could. Maybe Fraser’s part of the world was just full of one hundred percent straight men, manly men who killed polar bears with their bare hands and never once comforted each other on endless Arctic nights, not that Ray had ever thought about that in particular, or anything.

“Hey. Frase,” he whispered. “Frase. You asleep yet?”

“I am attempting to be,” Fraser said, sounding extremely displeased with him. That was how he’d sounded for most of the last three days, though, so Ray decided to ignore it.

“Good,” Ray said. “Fraser. Listen. What the hell did you mean by buddy breathing?”

“We talked about this,” Fraser said stiffly. “It’s standard procedure –”

“Oh, yeah. How much tongue does the standard procedure say you gotta slip your buddy? Two seconds? Five seconds?”

An awful silence emanated from Fraser’s bed. Ray stood it for about ten seconds and then he couldn’t stand it any longer, so he threw back the covers and got up and wriggled under Fraser’s covers, which took some doing because these twin beds were not that big, and he climbed awkwardly over Fraser so he was kinda lying on him, kinda had some weight on his knees. He had one hand either side of Fraser’s face and his mouth so close up that he could feel Fraser’s breath on his lips. Fraser – just lay there, one arm on each side of him, but Ray could feel exactly how tight he was wound.

“Maybe you should show me again,” Ray said, “make sure I got it right,” and he felt even more sick when he said it than when he’d told Fraser to punch him, sometime at the start of this endless day. But he couldn’t not say it, either.

“I can’t,” Fraser said, and he sounded as sick as Ray felt.

“Well why the hell not?”

“Ray.” Fraser’s voice sounded – weirdly normal. Too normal. “Ray. Are you familiar with the penal code of the state of Michigan?”

“Well, no, Fraser, on account of how I am a police officer in the state of Illinois. Not particularly.”

“That is,” Fraser went on, and now he sounded less normal, more ragged, and the muscles in his thighs that Ray could feel between his own were even more like iron, “as it regards gross indecency.”

Oh. Ray was beginning to get a clue here.

“And what’s gross indecency when it’s at home?” he asked, but he was pretty sure he already knew.

“It’s not very well-defined,” Fraser said, his breathing speeding up – Ray could really notice that, because he could still feel it on his mouth – “but it’s a term derived from eighteenth-century British law and is generally held in most modern jurisdictions where it is still used to include sodomy.” He licked his lip. His tongue brushed just against the corner of Ray’s mouth and if Ray let himself sink down even a fraction lower Fraser was going to know exactly what sort of reaction Ray was having to hearing Benton Fraser say ‘sodomy’ and then lick his lips.

“Last I checked, kissing wasn’t sodomy, Frase.” Shit; he’d gone and said – but they were far past the point of plausible deniability now.

“Sodomy,” Fraser repeated, “also fellatio,” he licked his lip again, Ray’s lip, “and sometimes even masturbation.” He paused. “And also a number of other acts which I think we would both agree are grossly indecent, which I don’t think we need to discuss.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ray agreed, maybe a bit hoarsely, because he did not want to think about what those were and his brain was still stuck on hearing Fraser say fellatio like that, like he was thinking about doing it.

Fraser sucked in another ragged breath and went on “The state of Michigan makes gross indecency a felony punishable by up to fifteen years in prison and up to life for a repeat offense.”

“You can’t convince me that they’re throwing every guy in Michigan who gets – or gives – a blowjob into prison for life, Fraser.”

“Obviously, laws are not always enforced equally,” and now Fraser sounded grumpy again instead of horny. Great job there, Kowalski. “But we are both officers of the law and enforceable or not, I think perhaps we should avoid committing felonies punishable by life in prison. Don’t you?”

“You said it’s only life if you do it twice.”

“Oh, we would,” Fraser said, in tones of absolute and utter certainty, and Ray’s knees gave out and pushed his hips down into Fraser’s, and Fraser was just as hard as he was and if it was possible to die from blue balls then Ray was probably going to die sometime in the next thirty seconds.

“In for a penny,” Ray whispered against his mouth.

“Tonight,” Fraser said, “we are going to be back in the great state of Illinois where I fully intend to commit no felonies whatsoever.”

“Jesus Christ, Fraser,” Ray said, letting his hips slide once, and Fraser gasped, and then he grabbed Ray’s arms and said “I mean it, Ray, it doesn’t matter if nobody knows, if we can’t follow the law then what is the point.”

Ray was impossibly turned on and tired beyond belief but had just enough brainpower left to figure that his chances of future orgasms – lots of them, hopefully – might depend on letting Fraser keep this one deeply idiotic point of honor. So he pushed himself up and off and flopped back into his own bed and thought very hard about how cold and gross his clothes had felt after nearly drowning in Lake Superior, and after half a minute he was still horny as hell but he wasn’t going to die of it.

“Holding you to that,” he said. “About all the felonies you ain’t gonna commit.”

“I expect you to,” said Fraser, and he was back to sounding almost normal again, which for some crazy reason got Ray even hotter. This wasn’t somehow crazy-with-lust Fraser, this was regular weirdo Benton Fraser and he wanted to commit multiple gross indecencies with Ray Kowalski just as soon as they weren’t in Michigan anymore. Fucking A.

“Good night, Fraser,” he said. “Uh. Good morning. Whatever.”

“Sweet dreams, Ray,” Fraser said, laughing a little, and Ray closed his eyes and thought about how goddamn glad he was that they were going home, very soon, on the other side of sleep, they were both of them going home.

[gayvecchio]

[lovesongs4robots]

thinking about smut/erotic fanfiction/art practices. the communal queer (in the expansive sense) experience of shared pleasure that is decidedly not a sexual encounter/relationship by any normative definitions; a particular type of liminal intimacy and affectual connection, transcending temporal and geographical and relational borders in fascinating ways.

thinking about the practices like beta'ing (please tell me, did it make sense, the way their bodies moved in space? how did it make you feel? did it touch your soul? were there any typos?); translations, illustrations, affectual comments: the ongoing reciprocity of affect and the labor that goes into that.

thinking about fanfics written to be gifted: combing through a friend's ao3/blog/etc to make sure you know exactly what kind of freak they are because you want to give them the ultimate pleasurable fantasy experience (happy birthday, here are some feels, i crafted them for you by hand). then posting it publicly as a tagged gift so everyone else can join in too. a present for all.

thinking about the history of slash fanfiction practices spanning the last 50+ years and the way female and queer fans clawed out spaces for that, not only within the heteronormative patriarchal culture at large but within fandom spaces:

het fanzines and later websites refusing to publish slash or, at best, doing stuff like publishing it with a whole page warning and on a differently colored paper

cishet women writing and drawing slash smut for each other and having to hide it from their husbands; their secret, erotically-charged lives shared only with other women

diy typing out and printing of slash zines, of a 100, 200 pages each, to avoid printer screening and tracking; having to start own printing shops or finding queer-run ones; the materiality of it all

mailing slash zines for free and in secret to avoid not only copyright but sodomy and obscenity laws, like the (still active) federal mail law that criminalized mailing pornography, whether images or text (and how, when the 1964 Supreme Court ruled it inapplicable to noncommercial letters between consensual adults, the precedent excluded homosexual letter exchange)

thinking about fanartist Virginia Lee Smith, who, in the 1980s, drew explicit af K/S smut for a dozen zines, and her interview in 2009 about donating her 200 zines collection, where she said, laughing, "The reason I handed this over is because I know that my poor kid, if I die, will be so embarrassed[...] I know he's gonna burn them. Lost forever. So, I have no idea how many k/s fanzines have been burned quietly for that reason." thinking about how she said she outgrew it when she stopped drawing; and yet she kept all 200 of them anyway.

thinking about the ephemerality of pleasure and the continuance of shame.

thinking about what purity culture, carceral feminism, and moral panics do, and how short collective memory is. thinking about how we keep going in circles, unable to escape from the paranoid, queerphobic lens that is always in search of predatory boogeymen, always vigilant, a cop on duty, armed and ready to go.

[verymuchsoyes]