Reminder that jkr basically funds a large portion of the terf movement in the UK and promoting harry potter and actively giving her money is helping fund that movement and is actively encouraging her and her followers because they see this as support
Stop adding in the tags for ways for people to engage in this content without giving her money when i explicitly stated that promoting harry potter also helps support this movement its really shitty to see people turn around and go “okay but you can still engage and promote this content but this way because were only helping it stay relevant and not giving her money”
Since I apparently wasn’t clear enough JKR will not be deplatformed as long as Harry Potter continues to remain relevant and people are still reblogging this with tags with ways to promote the series it’s really disheartening that a fucking book series is more important than the safety of trans people
forreal though not every trans or genderqueer person redacts their whole life once they realize their gender. the ‘i always knew i was a boy/girl, i was never ever the gender assigned to me at birth, not at all, not in any way’ narrative is very true for some people, but that story’s positioning as the only correct non-transphobic way to describe trans people’s lived experiences silences a lot of people who have very different (and less simple and convenient) journeys to their final identity.
some men were girls. some women were boys. that’s how they feel and it’s important to me that they’re respected for it and not scolded for telling the stories of their lives wrong just because other people can’t (or don’t want to) relate. there are so many different ways to grow up trans and to be trans, that someone’s life is always going to be totally alien to someone else, a total contradiction to their own experiences.
that should be okay. we should all be okay with it. no one narrative about any group of people should be the very definition of all of those people. activism needs to respect diversity of people’s lives, stories, and agency, or it’s just more useless shouting at people who have enough to fucking deal with already.
He shivered a little as they gently grazed the tips of their fingers along the scar on his ribs, already lidded silver eyes falling the rest of the way closed as a soft sigh slid past his lips. The fingers of their other hand continued to reverently caress thick, golden locks as they slowly glided through the silken strands, but then the fingers of their previous hand ghosted along fair skin to lovingly trace the occasional lines that mark it: his ribs, across his toned stomach to jump to his wrist, caressing the lines that criss-cross that arm...
He almost wanted to tell them to stop; he hated it when people paid so much attention to his scars; he had other, far more lavish features to admire, he could never understand the bemusement toward the abhorrent imperfections. He melted under their touch, though, & despite his mild uncertainty, he found himself keeping silent to simply enjoy the feeling of their hands on him, the touch he always craved.
Fingers tenderly continued along across his neck - earning the slightest shiver as he was brought back from his musings - to the mark leading to the junction of his shoulder & neck, falling lazily to trace along his clavicle until it met cool metal, where it changed course to begin to outline the anchor for the golden prosthetic & before either could think his other hand had their wrist in a vice like grip.
The sudden force surprised them & they couldn't help the flinch before they looked again & their eyes met the steel of his irises beneath his now deeply furrowed brows. It winded them for a moment, that stare, before they recalled that the only steel in that gaze were the bars put there to hold the emotions in check. After a moment's hesitation, their free hand continued through his hair, just as reverently, nothing but love as they managed to hold those guarded, yet burning eyes.
"Please...?" They pleaded gently which drew a flush to his cheeks, immediately softening the rest of his features a little.
He was certain they'd said "please" before, but the weight of the plea despite the softness of their voice would have floored him had he not been resting in their lap already. Even on the occasions when he took the dominant role he couldn't help but to love & spoil them without abandon, unable to leave them want for anything, but...
Searching their eyes for some answer, his grip on them relaxed just enough & they brought their hand away from the place that had so offended him to caress the side of his face. He'd started worrying at his lower lip so they leaned down to take it from him, gently sucking it into a kiss as they used their hands along his face & in his hair to pull him to them just a little, earning another soft sigh as he relaxed a little more.
"Please...?" They whispered again, a little breathless, but just as weighted.
"Yes, anything you want," he answered so quietly, unable to resist them, but so reluctant.
They didn't move away as their hand slowly, *carefully* eased back down his neck & along his shoulder again, instead pressing reassuring little kisses to the corner of his mouth & down along his chin.
He shivered again tangling his fingers into their hair & hoping to distract himself from his nagging thoughts as his partner found the anchor again & traced down along it until they found the deepest scarring where the prosthetic met his shoulder. He nearly whined with the effort to keep from snatching up their wrist again, instead tightening his grip in their hair, tangling his fingers a little deeper, his golden hand starting to tremble a little.
"It's alright," they found themself gently cooing against his lips as they affectionately rubbed their noses together. "I love you, Lucio."
"I love you, too," he breathed lifting his still trembling hand to slide underneath their hair & rest against the back of their neck, the cool metal making them tremble just a little before he pulled them in to close the short distance between their mouths, eliciting a soft whine of surprise before they melted into his trembling lips.
Their hands continued caressing him, one barely resisting the urge to tangle & pull his pretty blond hair, continuing instead to adoringly stroke him like a treasured pet & the other falling to continue following the line of his prostethic, tenderly stroking along all the scarring there. As they traced the junction of flesh & metal underneath his arm, his fingers tangled painfully tighter into their hair as some sound between a whine & a moan escaped from him into their mouth making them shiver & pull back just a little to gaze down at his flushed face. They were taken aback by the tears as they began to slide from where they'd collected around his silver eyes, causing them to glitter beautifully despite the heart wrenching expression across his normally proud features.
"Oh, Lucio..."
Both of their hands made their way to his cheeks so that they could caress his face, carefully thumbing away the tears & trailing eyeliner around his eyes; a fruitless effort as they continued down his cheeks & their hands anyway.
"Why...?" He managed to choke out around the sobs he was trying to hold back.
At first they didn't understand & they didn't want to hesitate too long while he was so fragile, but thankfully as they opened their mouth to respond, they realized what he meant.
"You're beautiful, my love; I just crave to touch you," they answered, managing what they hoped was a convincing smile which was hard with how worried for him they were.
He looked away. Actually turned his whole head to look away. They didn't like that; even fully submitted to them, he didn't do that.
"Not that part..."
"Yes, that part!" They used their hands still on his face to make him meet their eyes again. "ALL of you! Every centimeter!"
His eyes widened a little before he turned them away, teeth finding his lip once again. He'd planned to disagree, but knew better & bit back the protest.
When they shifted his head from their lap, freeing him from their grasp & convincing him to loosen his own, so they could stand up, he was certain they'd given up & would leave. He almost wished they would, but he knew that if they did he'd remember how worthless & alone he felt & yearn for them again only to have chased-
Familiar weight settled across his waist & the plush couch sank beneath him as he gazed with tear blurred vision up at the being straddling him, moisture collecting & threatening to fall from their eyes, too. While they had his attention again, they leaned down over him, curling their arms around the back of his neck to tangle their fingers back into his hair as they pressed their body as close to his as they could, crushing their mouths together once more. They shivered against him as he moaned into the kiss, wrapping his prosthetic around their waist while his other arm snaked up their back so that he could rest his hand along the nape of their neck, pulling them impossibly closer.
They stayed like that for a short time: tightly wrapped up in one another while they eagerly explored each other's mouths, gasping desperately between soft sounds of delight as they lost themselves in one another, their tears momentarily forgotten in their affection for each other. But, finally, the pair parted for an actual breath; they stayed hovering inches over him while both of them gazed into one another's red-rimmed eyes.
"I love you, Montag," they declared shakily, "I love every part of you. All I could ever see when I look at you is indefectible beauty, why don't you believe that?"
His breathing picked up a little at the sound of his birth name on their lips. They were the only one he allowed to know & use it, though they seldomly did. He hung on to every word, silently cursing himself as he felt his throat tighten again.
"How can..." he had to swallow back the tears once again, "how can you say that any of this," he stopped to shift his shoulder a little beneath them, emphasizing his prosthetic, or rather, the scarring associated & surely the rest of his scars, too, "is beautiful?" His voice started to waver making his already distinct accent a little more pronounced. "If I'd been stronger, I'd have been able to better protect myself. What kind of warrior loses an arm? & days after the fact to AMPUTATION?!" He was frantic, nearly seething by the end.
"A *strong* one," they pressed firmly, emphasizing it with a slight tug on his hair to redirect his attention back from within himself to out there with them. "A warrior who could have died, but *lived*. A warrior who has seen countless battlefields & endured much pain to get to where he is." They allowed their voice to soften as his expression did; he was truly listening now. "A warrior who *perseveres* instead of submitting to death under the guise of honor. A true warrior."
A hand slid from his hair to gently rest along his neck, thumb stroking along the underside of his jaw. His face wasn't wholly relaxed yet, but he looked a little more serene under the touch, his eyes softening slightly & his lips parting just a little; he was processing what they'd said.
"Y-you really believe that."
It could have been a question, but the tone made it a statement. They felt a smile tug at the corners of their mouth at that child of a man. Gods how they wanted to just hold him tight & help him forget all the bad things that had made him grow to feel the way he did about himself.
For the time, though, they ghosted their lips along the other side of his jaw, earning yet another shiver & a soft gasp until their lips reached his in a featherlight touch so they could give him their answer:
"Absolutely."
His own lips parted with some other sound, but they swallowed it in a kiss that had him trembling beneath them as soon as their lips met his. Fingers eagerly slid up into their hair inspiring them to trail theirs down his chest to rest over his fluttering heart with a gratified moan.
"Mm, Montag~" They managed, pulling back only enough to focus on lidded silver eyes.
"Yes, my Deity," he answered, his voice slow & husky.
His golden hair was tousled beyond any quick fix, strewn here & there with a few pieces having fallen felicitously in his face, drawing to his eyes. The makeup was smudged & streaked & they were still a little puffy & bloodshot from his tears, but it only made the softness behind, those foxy eyes more apparent; the truth he tried so hard to hide from everyone laid bare for only them to see: he just wanted to be loved & to share that love in return without fear of admonishment.
Their lips brushed the shell of his ear as they whispered to him,
"Let me show you how comely I think you are~?"
A gently posed question, with deep promises that finally brought some of that familiar mischief to his face; his eyes starting to twinkle as the smile began to play at his lips.
"I am putty in your hands ready to be molded to your whims," he started with quiet confidence only to writhe with a whine as they licked along his ear to gently nibble the lobe. "P-p-please show me h-how fet-fetching I can be..." Their lips trailed to his neck nipping a little so that he moaned the last part. "I'm yours~"
And sometimes it was absolutely impossible to believe but, as they sat all the way back to admire the flushed, disarranged mess that was the Count of Vesuvia, more at ease & completely vulnerable below them, it proved to be absolutely undeniable truth.
Fun fact, the guns being labelled “sword” is not just them being Extra™.
Most of the guns being used by the main characters are modified Taurus PT99 pistols, the different types of which are often named after specific types of knives and swords, thus enabling them to not have to change the Shakespearean dialogue, but to also manage that specific visual pun.
So Shakespeare would have absolutely been 100% all over that shit.
For example, Tybalt’s gun is a modified 9mm “Rapier” (from the Taurus PT99 Series ‘R’) and is actually one of my favorite visual aesthetics of quite probably any weapon in movie history to date.
While everyone else seems to be using a much more heavier and “powerful” version of pistol, his is sleek and light in frame, making it much easier for him to fight the way that he does. Which is undoubtedly Extra™ in comparison to everyone else, but also intended to mimic the dueling stance of actual rapier swordsmen of the time who relied on speed rather than brute force. They were Gentlemen after all. If you were going to cut someone down you ought to do it with some finesse.
If you look closely at his hand you’ll notice that with the exception of his middle finger on the trigger, he’s actually holding it the way one would a sword hilt. He’s also got the poise of a honed duelist.
This is someone who has been brought up with a very strong sense of Family Honor, and is expected to fight to defend it, but not as a common foot soldier (who carry “longswords” which are modified shotguns in the film), but as a Gentleman.
A gentleman who suddenly finds himself having to fight in the streets with people carrying “daggers”.
Like Mercutio’s modified pistol, which while beautiful and (importantly thematic) transparent in its function, is also heavy and cumbersome in comparison to Tybalt’s rapier, which also has a much further range, something he also makes better use of with the addition of a quick release mount for a c-scope, which allows him to either be slow and accurate, or to forgo accuracy for speed during say, a one on one duel vs a street brawl.
Which means even if he can’t make as many quickfire short range movements as Mercutio can, he’s still going to fucking obliterate him with the practiced ease of someone who has been training for duels their entire life.
Not to mention just how fucking ornate this thing is. Look at it. What an extra little sob, I love it. I love the whole movie. It’s an excellent adaptation and I’ll bite my thumb at anyone who says otherwise.
If ur arabic ur great
If ur arabic and muslim ur great
If ur arabic and queer ur great
If ur arabic and muslim and queer ur great
I know it seems hard to believe but you’re not bad you’re not awful
areudirty
germansingergirl
2087
origamiaround
