How about centaurs as bisexual parallels, though?
Can’t you just picture a centaur like, “What did you just call me? ‘Half human, half horse’? Ex-fucking-scuse me, I am ALL centaur!”
And just, constantly having people define you in terms of things that aren’t you, chopping you into parts because they can’t accept you as a whole, individual thing.
Trying to get the resources you need and constantly feeling out of place for it, because nothing is really intended for you.
"What do you mean you need horse shoes AND shirts?"
"Well sorry that my hooves wear down and that humans get fussy if I go around topless. Also, do they really have to be called HORSE shoes? I wear them and I’m not a horse."
"OMG special snowflake, shut up. Centaur isn’t a legitimate species, just decide if you’re more of a human or a horse."
"PRETTY FUCKING SURE I’M A CENTAUR."
I just have a lot of bisexual feelings about centaurs, sorry not sorry.
Harry disappears from the wizarding world for a little while after the fall of Voldemort and only like Ron Hermione and Ginny know where he’s gone
but he’s traveling. he considered backpacking Europe, but then he realized he’d had enough of camping for at least twenty years, so he teaches himself to drive and pulls enough strings to get himself an American drivers’ license and and then he’s off on a roadtrip in a beat-up car that’s still fast as anything. he doesn’t use magic if he can help it because it feels tainted, feels like it belongs to the war, feels like it marks him out again as someone with power and responsibility and the weight of a world on his shoulders. and for now he wants to find out what it is not to be a world-saving wizard, but just to be Harry.
and he meets a lot of strangers (he figures it’s safe enough picking up hitchhikers when they’re more than likely muggles and he’s got his wand if anything bad happens) and he learns what it’s like to be just another face, another car on the road and he learns all sorts of stuff on the radio, tries every genre out there. and it’s nice to listen to stuff that isn’t specifically designed to remind him of the wizarding world, but he finds so much of it surprisingly relatable and sometimes he just breaks down sobbing at the wheel and has to pull over.
and one of the hitchhikers he picks up is a veteran, and Harry doesn’t tell him much but he does say that he’s been a soldier, too, and it’s hard adjusting to a life that you never thought would exist because things were so hard that you could not imagine yourself after. hard to think about settling down and marrying the girl you thought you’d die loving. hard to think that not everyone around you is an enemy. were you a prisoner of war? the veteran asks. or undercover? both, says Harry. and lost, not knowing whether I was on the run or on a mission that was taking a year. I got back alive in the end but something—something’s definitely dead, you know?
how old are you, says the veteran. I’m eighteen, says Harry. the veteran raises his eyebrows. but they both know that some armies, some wars, don’t care about your age.
I think the dead thing is me, Harry says one day, when he’s going seventy in a fifty-five mile zone and the sun is setting in their eyes. when I killed the enemy, I killed myself.
and the veteran looks at him for a very long moment and Harry slows down and looks back at him and at last the man says, no. no, you lived. and you’re going to keep living, son, and one day you’ll be ready to marry that girl, if you love her, and now that you’ve got out of the war, it’s time to get the war out of you.
(they almost have a wreck when Harry pulls over to the side of the road, gets out, sits in the grass and laughs through his tears. flowers start to spring up around him and he feels the magic in his core, but this time it’s peaceful and pure and fun. unspoiled. and he knows it won’t always feel this way but for now things are leaking out of him, joyful things, because he is the boy who lived again, the boy who lived after the war.)
The Canadian Supreme Court has upheld the sexual assault conviction of a man who poked holes in the condoms he wore during sex with his girlfriend.
Craig Hutchinson sabotaged the condoms his partner insisted he wear in a bid to impregnate her and thus encourage her stay with him, prosecutors said.
Hutchinson argued deceiving his partner about the condoms did not invalidate her consent to have sex with him. (source)
Sometimes a court decision gets it right: Damn skippy he should be registered as a sex offender.
Stages Of Winter Rage by Linda Holmes
- [The following is a purely speculative, hypothetical story of winter. It corresponds to no actual meteorological data.]
- October 20: Eeeeeeee! Snow in the forecast! Eeeeeeee!
- October 21: I saw flakes! Here's an Instagram of flakes out my window! You can't really see them, but they're there, I promise! Flakes!
- November 3: There are tiny bits of snow landing on my windshield, and it is the most charming thing I've ever seen in my life. Snow is the best. Snow is fairy dust for grown-ups. Snow is the universe hugging me.
- November 14: I looked out my window this morning and there was a coating of snow on the ground, and it's so pretty that I didn't even mind having to brush it off my car. Snow is so beautiful. Here's a selfie of me pointing to a tree with snow on it. It melted by noon. :(
- November 20: Snow, yaaaay! I went outside and the neighbor's dog was running around in it and I almost died of happiness because snow is absolutely the best and happiest thing.
- November 30: Well, my trip back from Thanksgiving was a little dicey with the coating of slush on the streets, but the turkey was delicious!
- December 10: A little too much winter in my winter wonderland this morning. Had to reschedule my doctor's appointment and almost slipped getting from my door to the car. Be careful out there!
- December 19: Flight delayed for de-icing. Cab late. Sigh.
- December 25: WHITE CHRISTMAS WOOOOOOOO!
- December 26: Sheesh, I wanted a white Christmas, but that didn't require nine inches of snow.
- December 27: Wow, enough already. Sore back from shoveling. Made a snowman, though! Here's his picture!
- January 5: Froze my nose hairs, which is a first. WTF?
- January 10: Uh, I think I just killed my car driving over a pothole the size of a bathtub. Stop fluctuating, temperatures.
- January 19: Fell and practically killed myself on the sidewalk this morning after a zillionth of an inch of freezing rain. My knee is going to be the size of a bowling ball.
- January 24: Have you ever seen what a half-inch of ice looks like on a windshield? It looks like [REDACTED] you, winter.
- February 8: Everything is closed. I was supposed to have people over tonight, and nobody can come because there's a foot of snow coming and it's eight degrees and it's not supposed to get warmer until at least Friday.
- February 12: Hey, Target, maybe learn how to clear your parking lot, or at least fill up HALF your spaces ENTIRELY with snow instead of ALL your spaces HALFWAY with snow and also WHY DON'T YOU SELL GLOVES AFTER JANUARY WHEN IT'S 15 DEGREES OUTSIDE?
- February 25: I should really buy good snow boots for next year.
- March 3: Winter is a man-eating hell-demon sent by the forces of evil to break my spirit and my coccyx. It should [REDACTED] die already and [REDACTED] it if it doesn't because winter is full of [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] winter forever.
- October 14: Snow in the forecast! Eeeeeeeeee!
- [The above is Linda's version. My version ended thusly, some 14 years ago: Snow in the forecast?!? Fuck that noise, I'm moving home to California.]