Mar. 13th, 2017



@deputychairman am working further on Home Out In The Wind’s epilogue and part of it is that Poe is going to finally shave the Depression Beard he’s been rocking through the back half of the saga 

and I just seriously contemplated having him keep a moustache just to annoy his father. I felt like you should know this, whether I keep it in or not. (I know fic is not a visual medium but maybe I could justify finding the Most Attractive Photo of Oscar Isaac’s moustache just to stare at for a while. I’m not convinced about it but I love your tag art about it.)

(I maintain that it is at least a venial sin, if not a mortal one, to wear a beard when God has given you a jawline like that.)

PLEASE keep it in! One of the fics I’m not writing has Poe growing an Undercover Moustache which he personally hates but Finn is surprised to find he *loves* when he sees it, then they nearly have to get it on in some semi-public way to prove Poe’s Undercover Credentials (he’s pretending to be a…sleazy arms dealer? Who famously likes dudes who look like Finn?? Idk I was gonna fill in the details later) and Finn is TOTALLY down with this plan, this plan is GREAT, but Poe is utterly horrified by how sordid it is (because he loves Finn with a deep & true love and wants to make love to him on crisp white sheets strewn with rose petals), and he’s almost *offended* that Finn thinks he’d accept a blowjob under these circumstances so they just PRETEND to do it to fool the cameras which is actually a lot harder than just doing it would have been, but that’s Poe Dameron’s sense of chivalry for you. And I liked the intimacy of the pretending, Finn muttering “well help me out ffs, I’ve never pretended to give a blowjob before!” “Yeah well I’ve never pretended to get one buddy, it’s the blind leading the blind here” Poe says, breathless, because this is TORMENT.

Anyway then they escape, declare their feelings and tenderly bang for real and Poe kisses all the way up Finn’s thighs before he shaves off the moustache, the end.

#oscar isaac’s moustache is a force for good in the world #please give it at least a cameo! #maybe someday i’ll write that fic too

PLEASE? C’mon. The use of moustaches to kiss all the way up the inside of someone’s thighs is sadly underutilized in fictional works in general.

I mean. My dude has a moustache. Beard too, intermittently tidied into presentable goatee-ness. And the textural enjoyment of such a thing is undeniable. But on the other hand. Moustaches are so gross. So gross. So gross. His moustache is poorly-trimmed and gets in his coffee and then he wipes coffee on the cat when he schnurgles her and that is disgusting. I just don’t know if I can abide the erotic writing of moustaches.

sugarspiceandcursewords replied to your post

“@deputychairman am working further on Home Out In The Wind’s epilogue…”

Ohhh, mannnn… I adore deputy’s tags as well, and I totally respect Poe’s right to rock whatever facial hair he damn well pleases, but if the mustache stays, I might have to edit it out in my imagination.

See now I’ve got both sides of the issue. 

I mean. If they’re going to go back to Yavin IV to have a blissful recovery interlude of sleepovers and doing all the mischief Poe never got up to in his misspent youth, then having a just-to-annoy-one’s-dad moustache in the vacation interlude surely is excusable? 
replied to your post “@deputychairman am working further on Home Out In The Wind’s epilogue…”

oh wow that photo. I was unconvinced, until that photo.

Yeah, it’s the only photo I’ve found that really works for me. And I looked long and hard for that one. (Google Images would not work. I eventually just scrolled back thru deputy’s blog because I knew it would be there, for sure.)

And mostly what works for me is the smartass smug look, I must admit. But he also has a phenomenal jaw and throat, and so the beardy looks don’t do it for me, but the moustache– I mean, I can allow it. 

This is probably the only time I could allow it, though.

I gotta post it again now. 

I mean like.

I’d say something flippant like “I’d sit on that” but I mean. Apparently demisexuals are faking if they say things like that in a hyperbolic tone about fictional characters or unattainable fantasies about movie stars, so I won’t. (I may have spent too much time on the Internet today. ohhh my god. I have never vagued before, I won’t start now. [deleted rant])

“Sure, Dad. You’ve had that weird little beard scrap hanging on your chin for forty years and you’re gonna judge me for having a perfectly normal moustache? I’m not on-duty, nobody cares what my face does, I’m keeping this.”

“You are doing it to drive me crazy, child.”

“I mean… yeah? Isn’t that the point?” Poe rolled lazily to one elbow just so he could gesture with the other hand.

“I kind of like it,” Finn offered. 

“I wasn’t asking you,” Kes said, but the way he rolled his eyes made it plain he was conceding. “For the record, I grew this weird thing on my face for the first time thirty-five years ago because that’s when puberty hit me like a ton of bricks.”

“He was a late bloomer,” Norasol chimed in from her seat across the room. “That’s why I was so hopeful you’d still get a growth spurt, Poe.” She peered at him. “You never did though.”

“Thanks,” Poe said drily, “I noticed.”
It’s 4am and I’m to the point of the chest cold where the entire inside of my chest is itchy so there’s that. 

I guess it’s better than hurting but I dunno, it’s hard to assess that sort of thing, in the moment.
via Gays May Be “Lonely”—but Gayness Itself Isn’t to Blame:


If you are gay or know many gays, chances are you saw “Together Alone,” Michael Hobbes’ long-form essay on what he calls an “epidemic of gay loneliness,” show up in your feeds late last week. After seeing the article shared approvingly by many friends, I skimmed and dutifully posted it myself. It’s unsettling, full of resonant descriptions of isolation, drug addiction, and self-hatred among gay men; and it’s ambitious in its attempt to name, outline the contours of, and prescribe solutions for what it argues is a cultural and social crisis among gay men hovering between youth and middle age. But later, as I read the article more closely, I began to feel uneasy.

Something in Hobbes’ portrait—more specifically, in the words of the group of gay men he chose to interview—reminded me of a kind of conversation that I encountered when I’ve worked in offices with large gay populations. The conversation happened frequently enough that I began to be able to predict how it might unfold. An older gay male colleague, typically white and trim and successful, would set off on a lament about the impossible meanness and pettiness of gay culture. They would speak heartbreakingly about loneliness and feelings of inadequacy. Then, strangely, the conversation would turn to the idea, expressed with varying degrees of confidence and anger, that there was a subgroup of gays who had the ‘wrong’ goals: too much sex with too many people, going to drag bars on a Tuesday night. These sorts were holding the “good’ ones back from finally merging into the mundane—and, it was suggested, more fulfilling—everyday of bourgeois life.

Maybe, I would suggest, the root of their unhappiness wasn’t evil sex radicals or unreconstructed sissies but the impossible situation contemporary gays find ourselves in: the promise of acceptance and tolerance if we force ourselves into relationship models that often chafe; the way that rights of access to straight institutions like military service and marriage have divided us from our queer and trans sisters and siblings; the gentrification of our community spaces out of major urban centers; and the ingrained misogyny that leads to a drive towards hyper-masculinity and thinness. (Side-eye at the fact that the people starting these conversations were often the same ones who loudly began their “Fire Island diets” in February, in preparation for summers at the notoriously judgey gay beach enclave, and asked why I wasn’t joining.) No, the colleague would insist. It’s just that bitchy, mean gay culture. It’s toxic.

Not to be a bitchy gay whose meanness is making our community toxic, but: I have grown tired of men whose engagement with their queerness is so basic; who almost never associate with fat, of-color, and/or working-class people; who actively reject love and friendship that don’t fit their narrow molds, blaming their identity—and all gay people and culture with it—for their epidemic of low self-worth. Unfortunately, Hobbes’ article is no exception. Let’s break down where it goes wrong:

It focuses on a very specific sub-group, and leaves out everyone else.

The first thing we hear about the article’s first subject is that he is “trim, intelligent, gluten-free,” and that he does CrossFit. A scientist is approvingly described as monogamous, “wearing jeans, galoshes and a wedding ring.” One man is “a Brit living in Portland”; another “a fitness instructor”; another, a business consultant, is “27, 6-foot-1 and has a six-pack you can see through his wool sweater.”

In the community, we have a name for these people: “A-gays.“ They enforce the social rules of a certain kind of urban gay space, implicitly or sometimes explicitly excluding other types of gays (and almost all queer people) who don’t fit their strange standards. They are the donors and board members of the big gay nonprofits, the setters of the mainstream gay agenda.

Crucial to understanding the A-gays is seeing their cultural and economic complicity in the systems that both benefit them and, ironically, make them feel miserable. Please do not misunderstand: No one is responsible for suicide or mental illness—these are both complex phenomena that deserve to be addressed regardless of who’s experiencing them. But part of taking a problem seriously is understanding where it comes from. If I’m rolling my eyes at Hobbes’ piece, it’s not for lack of sympathy; it’s just the same way I might roll my eyes at an article about miserable hedge fund managers that didn’t interrogate their exploitative profession and the way it might contribute both to their sadness and their privilege.

Mental health and substance abuse issues cut across the entire queer community, and A-gays are arguably best-situated to deal with them; but even putting that aside, the blind spots of this article are enormous. Except for one man who is Asian-American, all of Hobbes’ sources appear to be white and live in high-rent cities. Their status doesn’t necessarily invalidate their struggles, of course, but focusing on the melodrama of the secret failings of the elite—especially amid an epidemic of murders of trans women and in a political moment full of profound and immediate threats—comes off as a bit obscene.

It misunderstands how and on whom minority stress works.

“…there’s still something unfulfilled,” a researcher marvels in the article regarding gay life post-marriage equality. It is, putting it gently, myopic to expect marriage equality alone to have solved, in less than two years, the mental health challenges of a generation of gay men raised in a cultural climate in which we were political punching bags and in the shadow of the AIDS epidemic—an epidemic that the article does not acknowledge is getting worse in many Black and rural working-class communities.

I grew up gay in a liberal Massachusetts town during the height of the fight for marriage equality and its backlash. Even there, the language used by the then-mainstream opponents of marriage rights, language used freely on the news, often made me feel hated and feared. I yearned for the dignity promised by the pro-marriage advocates. Many gay men my age and older have shared this feeling—and the expectation that marriage might transform us. It took years of studying the history of queer identities and movements for my views on marriage to become complicated, queered: While I’m glad we won it, marriage does not have the power to magically erase our difference or to make people feel whole.

An uncomfortable byproduct of the monomaniacal quest for marriage equality has been the creation of a new form of minority stress—the stress of the gay man who does not find a husband, or who doesn’t want one, or maybe wants two, and therefore cannot participate in this new and strange celebration of conservative values we’ve constructed as the ultimate goal of gay life. At their best, queer ideas about romance could help undo (for everyone) the poisonous idea that long-term unbroken monogamy is the only way to happiness. But now, many gays have bought into that lie. This is what happens when a civil rights movement values the banality of traditional romance over proud assertions of individual and collective identity, when the desire to enter a system supersedes the desire to change it. As an Asian-American friend said to me, not long after the Obergefell decision: “It feels like someone I don’t know gave me something I didn’t want, and now I feel like I have to use it or feel ungrateful.”

And then, of course, there’s the issue of compounding stressors: Many minority groups beyond gays face daily indignities and traumas, often magnified by physical and economic attacks. This trauma is intensified by overlapping experiences of oppression: blackness and poverty and queerness, for instance. This article uses as an example of minority stress a teen deciding whether to major in art or finance. That decision could certainly cause stress, especially when accompanied, as it is in the article, by disapproving parents. But there are gay men (and lesbians and trans and gender-nonconforming people) living in poverty, being fired for their identity, being murdered, living in conservative and rural areas they cannot afford to leave where other queer people are difficult or impossible to find. Minority stress among gay men is real; some, according to one study Hobbes cites, experience the same degree of trauma as rape victims. This is caused by oppression, not by the choice of a major.

It ignores decades of thought about gay and queer lives.

Gay people have a rich tradition of telling stories about our lives, our loneliness, our sex, our cultures. We do it in fiction and poetry, in films and theory. Some of us even enjoy our lives, our gayness and queerness, our queeny communities. But you wouldn’t know it from reading Hobbes’ weepy article, which prefers to rely on psychological studies—the design, scope, and relevance of which he treats uncritically.

I live in the NY Metro area. I’m a failed city gay man and a very happy and successful suburban husband. As a man in middle age my life is beyond my wildest dreams.  More…

A wiser article about gay loneliness might have discussed, even briefly, alternative ideas about gay life. Some have argued that queer people present a radical opposition to traditional ideas about family and community, that we can tear down oppressive ideas about what relationships and sex are supposed to mean. Others have replied that our uniqueness lies in our ability to spend the time straight people spend raising children on creative and intellectual work. Queer people have established many modes of sisterhood, of kinship. At a drag show, watch the queens quietly support one another, fixing the sound and adjusting the lights on the wall backstage. Or just go see this year’s Academy Award winner for best picture, Moonlight, the end of which features a devastating conversation between two gay men transitioning from lovers to friends.

What is needed to address the epidemic of gay loneliness is unlikely to be found in a psych study. We cannot think about how we might be better to each other without thinking about who we are, and who we have been, and who we might become. The various epidemics of queer loneliness and drug addiction and suicide will not be solved by the A-gays, or by a movement that focuses only on the personal happiness of individual people. We need a politics of solidarity, of standing up for ourselves and with other threatened communities. Working and thinking together, as any longtime queer activist will tell you, is a great way to start feeling less alone.

Long post but worth it. Such a great critique on that gay loneliness article.
bookish-but-corruptible reblogged your link and added:

No no no I don’t have time to push back but this article absolves gay men of accountability, which we really need

The original article, right? that was the one going around like wildfire with no response, so I was glad to see a response to it. I stuck this in the queue a while ago though so I don’t recall exactly what the nuance was, but I thought it was a good answer to the first one, which was poignant but totally one-sided. 

Sometimes I do stick things in the queue I don’t totally agree with because I found them a thought-provoking read, but I don’t remember with this one, my queue’s longer than usual just now and I don’t recall.
via replied to your post “@deputychairman am working further on Home Out In The Wind’s epilogue…”

*sigh* Okayyyyy, if it’s temporary. Plus the snippet you posted included Norasol, and the mere idea of that reunion supersedes any visual ickiness.

Ha, the sad part is that it wasn’t a snippet, that was composed on the spot as I thought about how it would work. So I don’t have a scene to go with it yet.

But it did remind me, in the scene I actually was composing, to interrupt Poe’s wondering what Norasol will think of Finn and Rey to remember that he himself hasn’t seen her in quite some time and is probably going to dissolve into a blubbering mess when he does. 
deputychairman reblogged your post and added:

You guys know you can count on me for all your Oscar Isaac Moustache finding needs, right? I’m here for you with the tag #and his moustache

And uh, yeah, what she said about this picture.

#oscar isaac #and his moustache #making an important appearance in fic #i can’t wait for this latest installment buddy #i feel like you’re writing it directly for my id #or maybe it’s your id #maybe our ids have a lot in common #anyway

Our ids have some important similarities, that’s for sure. And isn’t that what fandom’s all about, really?



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