BROOK SHELLEY: welcome, folks! FRANCES LEE: hi, made it in! MALLORY: hi everybody! BROOK: maybe we should have a little intro section, since I don’t think everyone knows each other. I’m Brook - I am 31, and a white trans lesbian. I live in Portland, OR with my cat Snorri. I work in tech, and write for a few places. I’ve been out for a while.

You are fourth- or fifth-billed in the credits but have so far contributed almost nothing to the A- and B-storylines.

In episode 2, you had a throwaway line about a beautiful member of the opposite sex not being your "type," a line that has now taken on a strange significance.

You are a younger brother who stands to inherit nothing.

Let’s begin with a disclaimer: I love Marshall Erikson and I only want good things for him. You can’t discount Marshall Erikson and Lily Aldrin’s two decades of history with a simple handwave when it comes to the How I Met Your Mother-verse. They have one of the healthier, happier marriages currently airing on television. They’re best friends. There’s tons of love, support, and respect between them. Their fights run the full spectrum from hilarious…

Watching Game of Thrones is an interesting undertaking if you're a woman who likes women. One the one hand: hey, a fantasy series with lots of distinct female characters who are, on the whole, about as developed as you’re likely to get in a mainstream franchise set in a world that draws a significant amount of inspiration from ye olde chattel days. On the other hand: seven hells, does a lot of woman-hating happen on…

Previously: Mellie and Olivia on Scandal. How does one even begin to write about Anne and Diana? Anne of Green Gables (the book and the film) is a sacred text for a certain type of bookish woman. There are rituals and invocations; there are chants to recite (Carrots, bosom friends, puffed sleeves; carrots, bosom friends, puffed sleeves); there is the Holy Land of Prince Edward Island. "Femslash" is the first Google auto-fill after searching…

Listen, just because we had a little too much lesbian separatism in the '70s doesn't mean we shouldn't have any now. For too long now has the word "slash" been used to exclusively refer to a set of pallid, languorous white-blonde youths semi-closetedly making out under the bleachers, and as much as I approve of Magic Twink Makeouts, one can tire of too much of almost anything.  Which leads me to Scandal, the greatest television…