Bisexual Girls

As a femme lesbian who is attracted to femme women, I find myself dating bisexual girls all of the time. I used to think shit I need to find a lesbian because I’m scared bi girls will leave me for a man, but I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that maybe bisexual girls end up with men because lesbians are assholes to them. Because we are scared shitless of feeling less than because we don’t have a penis. They don’t feel like they’re a part of our community and in turn we throw all of the HOT and interesting women back into the pool with the sharks. So to all my bi girls out there, thank you for living your truth and not letting other people erase your relationship history or sexual preferences. And thank you for having sex with me. 

The Foxhole Court as Weather.com Headlines

Because no matter what, the homepage of weather.com will make you feel like it’s the end of days.

Wymack: Doomsday Clock Moved Closer to Midnight

Dan: Will This Helicopter Pilot Make It?

Allison: Racing for Glory in Toy Barbie Jeeps

Renee: Girls Jump in Shark Pool, Regret It

Matt: Man Rescues Little Penguin From Drain

Seth: Big Bird Finally Nabbed

Andrew: Small Sinkhole Causes Big Problem

Aaron: Man on Mountain Throws Rocks at Drone

Nicky: ‘Glory Hole’ Roaring Once Again

Neil: Bull Flees Slaughterhouse, Then This…

Kevin: This 2-year-old Might Ski Better than You

Jeremy: Stunning Indoor Rainbow Appears in Museum

Katelyn: Watch: Big Tornado in Her Backyard

Riko: Japan’s Monster Sinkhole Sinks Again

The Ravens: Little Do They Know… Disaster is About to Strike

BONUS! Andriel: Elusive Miniature Horses Flee Police


12x11 “Regarding Dean”
“My name is Dean Winchester. Sam is my brother. Mary Winchester is my mom and Cas… Cas is my best friend…”

I’m sure this scene has been giffed and edited about a million times by now and really no one needs it another time on their dash, but I needed to express just how amazing Jensen’s acting here was, how you could see how the knowledge is slipping from Dean’s mind and how he desperately tries to grip it but the faster he holds on to it the more it slips away. It is actually a really sad metaphor for Dean’s entire life. ;____; How he tries to hold his family together, afraid of ending up alone and then gets to hear “everybody leaves you, Dean”. Here even Dean is leaving Dean kind of and it’s just…. ;______;

That said, I especially adored this scene, because it has been such a recurring stylstic device over the past seasons with Dean and the mirror shots. From “9x23 “Do You Believe in Miracles” when he looks at himself in the mirror when he is locked up after he cuts Gadreel and tries to assess who he is and what is happening to him to 10x17 “Inside Man” where we see Dean wash his hands after being the pool shark at the bar and he catches himself flash black eyes for a second or the most memorable last mirror scene (these are really just a handful of incidents the mirror shots have been extensively used throughout the MoC arc) moment in 10x23 “Brother’s Keeper” when Dean desperately seems to wash his hands clean looks into the mirror and sees Cas and Rudy staring back at him confronting him with what he did and what he has become. This week’s mirror moment can be seen perfectly in line with all of these other instances of mirror shots exploring the issue of identity. Countless times we have seen Dean try and touch base and asess who he is by looking at himself in the mirror and often times not liking what/who look back at him. But at least before his reflection wasn’t a blank as it is now.

So when Dean is looking into the mirror and actually directly into the camera it reads like a cry for help, he’s trying to piece together who he is by looking at himself, but this person who is looking back can’t provide any stability, may well be a stranger and has just as little knowledge who the person is that is refelected in there. After all he cannot even remember his name. And names… names hold power. But Dean lost everything, his name, himself, his identity. And yes, that is scary as hell.

In The Land of Monsters

I was always afraid of the gym. Of the monsters that lurked within. A land of giants I had no place intruding.

Sports, fitness and I were never on very good terms, especially when I was a teenager. I was the academic, the imagineer, the dreamer, the geek, the nerd. Whichever way you cut it, there was very much a difference between myself and my “sporty” peers. I’m not going to say “jocks”, because growing up in England we never had that kind of tribalism. But I was a peaceful soul who preferred to bury himself in books and science fiction; they were the brutes who pushed me against the corridor walls, gave me physical and mental torment for my lack of caring for my appearance, for my indifference to their ways. I didn’t even support a football (soccer) team, which in England is nearly as much a capital offence as non-support of rugby is in New Zealand.

Teenage Beastpup in England

So picture me as a young man going through puberty, being inspired by the muscular physiques of bodybuilders like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jay Culter, Flex Wheeler, Markus Ruhl… monsters, stirring something within me. A desire to be more. A desire to change. To express myself through growth.

But I was scared.

No matter how much I wanted it…I felt I could never, ever join a gym. It would be torture… I’d be like chum in a pool of sharks. Surely from the moment I stepped foot inside my tender, nerd-like nature would be sniffed out by the others, and I would be mocked, tortured anew. Or even then, could I handle seeing how skinny I was compared to the others, when my body dysmorphia took over? Or would my family and friends even understand and join in the mocking that I, the twig, was trying to change himself in the gym? And people would see how sexual it was for me. How much I wanted it… I could never be normal enough… could never get over all these mental hurdles…

 Until the day I did.

Moving to New Zealand in my early 20s brought a lot of changes and positive adjustments to my life. Away from my past, I was free in a new place to start anew. It took many, many months of convincing myself still, but at last I had enough of always wanting and never having. At long last… I was going to join a gym. It was now or never.

 And so my mission began.

Because I couldn’t just walk in there! Oh no. Couldn’t just waltz into the natives encampment… I had to disguise myself first. I had to present myself to the tribe as one of them. Prior to going to the gym, I took myself off to the local sportswear store which was in of itself terrifying as a place I’d never stepped foot in. I despised those overpriced, branded goods put together in sweatshop factories by kids overseas… but for this, I would make the leap. I bought my clothes… a gym bag. Looked up online, I think, what people normally took to the gym… water bottle, towel. It took me a week to psych myself up but finally… I did it. I entered the land of monsters.  I went to the local gym and like a meek doormouse, asked the young lady at the reception if I could join.

 Everything that happened after was so very, very different from all my fears. I was welcomed. I was taken in, I was given my induction by helpful trainers… they equipped me with the confidence to be in that environment, and weren’t intimidating at all! Nor were the other guys there… everyone was just doing their own thing. No torture, no mocking. Just a common pursuit. Fitness. Growth.

The years since have been a blur; a lot has happened in my life. But the gym has always been there… it went from feeling like an alien outpost, to something else. Home. I am at home in the gym. I live for it. I know it. It has become my playground. My stomping ground. And just this week I looked in the mirror, now that I have grown, and I can see staring back at me:

I am now the monster I was afraid of.

 I made my dream come true, and in the process lost my fears. And I’ll say to anyone; you can have this too. You can be it. But if you still have your fear, I understand. But you don’t have to be afraid of the monsters. You’ll be one of them if you want. You just have to work. You just have to leave fear behind.

Happy growing…

 - Beast June 2017

Jeremy and Michael would buy a kitty pool big enough to fit both of them and they’d throw blankets in and use it as a bed when the first get into their dorm

And eventually they’d get enough money for an actual bed but at this point they’re too attached to their small shark pool bed so they just keep it and use the money for something else

“Winn & Sanvers preparing for Pride Parade, Winn getting his nails painted with the Bi-flag colors as a coming out to his friends. (His crush on Superman has no hetero explanation to me)” from @draconicdivinity

He paces outside of Alex’s apartment for nearly ten whole minutes.

He paces and he breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, his cheeks puffing up with the effort to calm himself.

“She’s your best friend. She’s your best friend, and he’s your best friend, and they love you and they don’t care that Alex and Maggie are gay, they love them both, and they’ll love you.”

But the thought of Kara and James only makes his heart race harder, scarier.

He tries a different tactic.

“They’re lesbians,” he mutters. “Alex and Maggie lesbians, they lesbian together, they invited you to get ready for Pride with them, they love you, and they’re lesbians, for god sake, of course they’re not going to care that you’re bi.”

But he paces, still, because in one of the homes he was in as a kid, well… being bi was one of the main reasons he got shifted around so much.

They’d wanted to know why he couldn’t just pick one. Even the gay kids. Sometimes, especially the gay kids.

Even in college, it had happened.

Even in college, he’d gotten raised eyebrows and skeptical sound effects.

He’d stopped telling people, because what was the point, really?

If no one would believe him, either way.

So he paces, his hand tight around a plastic bag he’d picked up with a hammering heart and sweaty brow at the pharmacy.

Because he’s been to another planet, and he’s the tech support for not one, but two, superheroes, but coming out?

God, coming out is so much scarier.

So he paces.

He paces until Alex wrenches open the door and gives him a partly concerned, partly annoyed look.

“Dude, Kara says you’ve been pacing out there for ages. You okay?”

“Where… where is Kara?”

“Showering,” Alex shrugs, tugging him inside.

Tugging him inside to where he’s greeted by James – in a tight black t-shirt with Tolerance is Not Enough emblazoned in rainbow print across the front – and Kara’s yell of greeting from the bathroom and a half-dressed Maggie, rainbow belt on denim shorts, barely buttoning up a short-sleeved flannel.

“Ooh, look at my favorite pool shark, looking all sexy!” he grins, and Maggie shoves him gently before pulling him into a hug.

“Not wearing anything special for Pride, Schott?” Alex asks, that concerned look still in her eyes.

“Actually, I um…” He fidgets with the pharmacy bag he’s carrying. “I thought maybe – oh, hey Kara.”

Kara’s hair is soaked and her skin is still dripping slightly, towel draped around her body. Winn and James both carefully look anywhere but her.

“It’s Pride! Give me one second to put clothes on, and I’ll – “ She speeds her way into her outfit, scattering Maggie’s case files and Alex’s medical journals with the rush of wind she creates.

“What’s wrong?” she mirrors her sister’s concern, stepping closer to Winn at more human-like speed.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, I just thought… I bought these.”

He spills the three small bottles of nail polish he’d picked up from the pharmacy from the bag. They clatter slightly onto the counter, and Maggie gets it first.

Her eyes find his over the bottles of pink, lavender, and blue nail polish, and she recognizes the tears she sees there. The terror.

She smiles softly and she nods almost imperceptibly, because she knows this feeling, and she knows, better than he does at the moment, that his sisters and his brother will love him all the more for it.

She certainly does.

“I thought maybe someone could paint my nails. For Pride. For me.”

“Cool man, uh – Kara, are you any good at that? I don’t imagine Alex would be – “

“Put a lid in it, Olsen, I can hit a moving target at – “

“Yeah yeah, but can you paint nails with precision, though?”

“They’re bi colors, Winn! Did you know that? Is that why you got – oh. Oh. Oh. Winn!” Kara stammers, and Winn’s stomach twists.

James and Alex stop their playful bickering, faces suddenly sober. Eyes suddenly locked onto Winn’s face.

“Winn?” Alex asks, her voice full of empathy and support and something that sounds an awful lot like deep, powerful respect.

“I just thought someone could paint my nails with the bi flag colors. For Pride,” he splutters, his face bright red. “Because that’s me. I’m bi.”

He forces himself to look at each of his friends – each of his siblings – in turn.

Kara’s eyes, bright and proud and teary, with a dash of recognition so strong he thinks that maybe, just maybe, she’ll want to paint her nails with the bi flag colors, too.

James’s eyes, dawning comprehension and full-throated acceptance and deep, deep pride in his best friend. His brother.

Alex’s eyes, glistening under the glitter her sister had put on her face, knowing that feeling so damn well.

Maggie’s eyes, soft and earnest and excited for him.

“So there are three colors and four of us,” Kara starts, a huge smile beginning to form on her face as James steps forward to crush Winn in a hug. “Maggie, Alex, maybe you guys can share lavender? I’ll get blue, and James, you wanna do pink? We can all paint your nails together, Winn.”

His chest wracks with a sob and he darts forward to pull Kara into the hug with James, laughing and crying at the same time.

Alex joins at Kara’s urging, and Maggie hesitates, but Winn reaches to pull her in, too.

When they settle – when Winn’s tears are reduced to mere sniffles and he thinks his ribcage might not be able to tolerate being hugged by so many superheroes at once for much longer – he puts out his hands and spreads out his fingers.

Maggie opens the windows and blasts queer summer jams for the world to hear, and all Winn hears is the laughter and the love and the happiness of his friends as they take turns transforming his fingernails, one color at a time, into signs of his own laughter, his own love, his own happiness.