and maybe it’s because i’m self-hating or an assimilationist or i don’t understand the true queer struggle, but i am tired of queer headcanons.
“amab transfeminine asexual neville falls in love with bisexual polyamorous agender luna” and want to scream. because i don’t care, i don’t care. the experiences of my queerness is not summed up by series of labels that i recite to myself in a mirror. labels are important, yes. but labels mean nothing when they are not attached to something. i want to scream.
tell me about amab transfeminine asexual neville.
tell me about how she grew up in a house alone with a grandmother who was distant and could not see her true potential and could not see her. tell me about how she snuck into her grandmother’s closet and tried on her hat with the vulture on the top and the emerald green coat because that was what she had. and then tell me about how she forced the image of her worst enemy into those clothes for the sake of humor and everyone laughed, everyone laughed, and tell me about how she wondered if that’s what she looked like.
tell me about how she fell in love with a person before she could fall in love with her body. tell me about luna whose father supports them to the ends of the earth but wonders what their mother would think.
tell me about how they found love in a twin sized bed when they held each other, just held each other, and stars broke open for them. and how they were so in love and so afraid and so real and yet not real. maybe they live happily ever after and maybe they dont but they triumph and they travail and it is happy and sad and so fucking gorgeous.
tell me about trans man remus who names himself remus lupin. remus lupin. because fuck you i’m trans and fuck you i’m a werewolf and fuck you. FUCK. YOU. tell me about the scars on his chest that he made himself and tell me about how he found the word transgender in a book for the fist time when he was 14 and how he wrote that word on his mirror and then smashed that mirror with a rock. tell me about how he hoped he could find himself in that word and how he found nothing but an empty promise about how that word could make him feel more real. tell me about his smile.
look, i know that people love their queer headcanons and that’s great and fun and whatever, but ”amab transfeminine asexual neville falls in love with bisexual polyamorous agender luna” doesn’t really do all that much for me.
straight people don’t get “straight cis man ron falls in love with straight cis woman hermione,” they get epics about fighting evil and fighting each other and drinking tea at hagrid’s.
the experiences of my life are great and vast and i have triumphed and i have travailed and i have been happy and angry and sad and i have broken open stars.
so help me god if that is summarized by “bisexual genderqueer transboy ari falls in love with label label name.”
Don’t stop reading after the first paragraph, folks. Keep reading!
so i was self-checking out at the grocery store and this comely stranger and I had been flirting a bit, and after they had finished checking out they went
“ I DON’T HAVE FLOWERS TO GIVE YOU BUT I WISH I DID BUT HERE HAVE THIS.”
AND THEY JUST GAVE ME A HEAD OF BROCCOLLI.
Guess who’s got a daaaaate
Everytime i see this i think this person looks so pretty and should be drawn in a disney style.
ive been listening to the korean version of ’let it go’ all day long and so i was like man how cool would it be if frozen took place in korea and thats how this sloppy ass sketch came to be