I can't remember if I ever posted this here but here is my protest board for my first ever trans rights protest I attended back in October 😊
It's currently in my kitchen along with a tint little sliver of a transmasc monster man I drew on a canvas 😅 for anyone that doesn't know I sometimes paint on canvases but they are super weird stuff and you'll either love them or hate them! Heck here are the two from my kitchen!
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The Winner Takes It All Preview
Want to listen to the playlist I created for this fic? Here you go.
Warnings: angst, mentions of poly relationships, and mention of past smut.
“I miss seeing that little crease you get between your eyebrows when you are concentrating on something,” a familiar, unwelcome voice commented. “It’s the same one you get just before you fall apart in my arms.”
“Get a hobby and those memories will fade away.”
“I don’t want them to.”
“We don’t always get what we want,” you replied. “For instance, I wanted the two men that I loved to love me in return. Instead during our relationship, they decided that I wasn’t good enough for both of them. They picked apart my character, highlighted my flaws, reminded me of my mistakes--”
“Stop,” Black whimpered.
You raised your chin defiantly, “And they proceeded to tell me that nobody else would ever love me once they found out about my flaws and mistakes.”
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burn the village
“Do you think I’m defiant?” she says suddenly, her voice clearer than it had been, like she’s finally paying her full attention to this conversation. It snaps JJ out of his thoughts quickly.
He answers on instinct. “Hell yeah,” he says proudly. Honestly, in his mind, it’s a compliment. Kiara’s defiance when she’s faced with so much bullshit from so many people is one of the things he loves most about her.
She turns from the sink slowly, a defeated look on her face, and JJ’s stomach drops out of his ass.
Wrong thing to say. Wrong fucking thing to say.
Or, a little bit of an exploration of Kiara’s trauma following Kitty Hawk that I know we will never get in the show.
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Class exhibition was a success! Lots of very cool art from all the students, lots of friends and family along for opening night. Huge variety in what each student put up.
Here's my part of the exhibition. We provided a number of pieces that the tutors chose from. Someone actually bought the first one! :o
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1.
July 1950 - I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty house, the warm hazy weariness from a day spent setting strawberry runners in the sun, a glass of cool sweet milk, and a shallow dish of blueberries bathed in cream. Now I know how people can live without books, without college. When one is so tired at the end of a day, one must sleep, and at the next dawn, there are more strawberry runners to set, and so one goes on living, near the earth. At times like this, I'd call myself a fool to ask for more...
2.
Ilo asked me today in the strawberry field, "Do you like the Renaissance painters? Raphael and Michelangelo? I copied some of Michelangelo once. And what do you think of Picasso... These painters who make a circle and a little board going down for a leg?" We worked side by side in the rows, and he would be quiet for a while, then suddenly burst out with conversation, speaking with his thick German accent. He straightened up, his tan, intelligent face crinkling up with laughter. His chunky, muscular body was bronzed, and his blonde hair tucked up under a white handkerchief around his head. He said, "You like Frank Sinatra? So sentimental, so romantic, so moonlight night, Ja?"
text: Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, 1982 // Susan Jane Walp, “Blueberries in a Bowl with Bean Pod, Cork and Knife” (1999), oil on linen, 9 x 8.75 inches // Kristen Garneau, “Strawberry Fields”, 18 x 20, Oil on canvas // Maryann Mullett – “Strawberry Fields”
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