#Talks over the two trans guy in the group

[bugstung]

Never open up to a white cishet woman who thinks she's better and a good ally because she's a" feminist"

[acowardinmordor]

I kinda want a fic where Eddie is straight. Strong Ally, totally safe, but the guy is straight. There's a few months after they successfully take down Vecna that he and Robin and Steve are all besties, living in each others' pockets. During that time, he makes a lot of jokes that Steve is going to make a great housewife someday, makes some comments that aren't quite jokes that he wishes Steve was a girl, and has some very much suppressed thoughts that the only thing stopping them is that Eddie isn't attracted to men.

Near the end of the summer, before Steve is going to follow Robin to Sarah Lawrence, Steve comes out as bi to the whole group, and Eddie, for the first time, unashamedly thinks, damn, if only I wasn't straight. Steve even gets brave a few days before they leave and broaches the topic of Steve having a crush on Eddie. Keeps saying that he's not going to hit on Eddie, but wanted to take the chance, just in case Eddie had ever thought about it.

"Sorry, Steve, I only date girls."

And the awkwardness isn't the only reason the three drift apart, but it doesn't help. They send letters and post cards between Chicago and New York, and try to call at least once a month, but they're all broke, and long distance is expensive. Two years out, and Eddie knows something weird is happening with Steve and Robin, but they don't want to talk about it. They still talk, they're still friends, they'd still die for each other, but there is something they're hiding from him. Three and a half years out, and the bureaucrats finally got their act together. 'Thanks for not telling anybody' checks get sent to everyone in the know. Very large checks.

Robin graduates, and she and Stevie have a comfortable cushion. They don't have to take horrible minimum wage jobs anymore, and some expensive things they've been saving up to do for a while can finally happen.

This is where the fic in my head actually starts.

Eddie hears all about Los Angeles from Robin, but she tells him that Stevie isn't feeling great after the trip, and that Eddie will get a letter soon.

Its four months later, almost exactly four years since the three last saw each other in person when they finally meet again. Robin got a job in Chicago, and Eddie is still there, now a full artist in a tattoo parlor, playing gigs for fun with random friends. Stevie, of course, follows Robin, and Eddie tries hard not to stay upset with the guy for the weirdness and the sometimes silence, and the very obvious distance that Steve put between them recently.

Then they see each other. Meeting up at what has to be the queerest bar in the city, and it takes Eddie way, way too long to put together what's waiting at a booth along the wall. He's an ally, he's heard all the terms and types and nodded along in supportive silence because he doesn't get it, but he's trying.

But there's Robin, sitting on the outside, with a brunette beside her, possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie has ever seen, strong, tall, long wavy chestnut hair, and a spattering of very distinct moles. The little bit of a smile she has when Eddie first comes over melts into something small and scared as Eddie stares in shock. It's Stevie, it has to be, and Robin's exclusive use of what was once only a nickname suddenly makes more sense. He knows he needs to make sure he's using the right name, pronouns, whatever she wants. He's friend of a friend with a couple trans people, and again, he doesn't get it, but he listened, and he cannot fuck this up, because it's Stevie and this must be what they were hiding, but the inside of his brain sounds like an endless loop of mic feedback for a solid sixty seconds.

Sixty seconds is an insanely long time.

Before his brain turns over and he can smile and reach the table, Stevie has shrunk into the corner, and Robin looks ready to launch herself at Eddie's throat in her soulmate's defense.

A whole list of intrusive thoughts hit Eddie all at once while his mouth runs on autopilot, asking the right questions, smiling encouragingly, introducing himself to, yes, Stevie Harrington, and dragging the mood to a happy place by sheer force of will. Stevie starts to uncurl, smiles a little brighter, sits up straight, laughs properly at Eddie's dumb stories about terrible tattoos, and leans closer as the night goes on.

He fixes the weirdness he started in his shock, because there is no way in hell he's not going to keep two of his best friends now that they live in the same city again.

But his head is stuck spiraling around a snarl of horrible, selfish, invasive thoughts. The worst of which: Stevie is now Stevie because Eddie told her that he only liked girls. And he knows thats stupid and isn't why Stevie made this choice, and he hates himself for thinking it, but the thought is still there. That Eddie wanted so badly that she's now Stevie. Another, only slightly less horrible thought, is that the immediate fairytale ending he imagined on first sight - might be ruined because Eddie is still straight, and he's just not sure about, you know, the details.

Eddie did a great job that first night, and they're back to hanging out all the time as soon as the last boxes are unpacked. It is not Stevie's fault that seeing her in a sports bra for the once confirmed that the payouts, the LA trip, and her new shirt size were related. It's not her fault that Eddie can't stop thinking about how hot she is.

It's absolutely not her fault that Eddie starts getting weird around her. He's trying, okay? He's trying so hard. But its weird for him. He likes her. That part he's certain of. Loves her, almost definitely. He thinks she's gorgeous, high confidence on that part too. He has a crush, but he knows, deeper than the rest, that Stevie isn't confident in herself yet. She acts it most of the time, but its under the surface, a thread of fear that she's not girl enough to count.

And Eddie has a crush. And Eddie can't tell her. Because Eddie won't put them in a situation where Stevie's pants come off, and Eddie suddenly can't see her as the woman she is. It would hurt Stevie so bad, and Eddie would never forgive himself.

It's not like he can ask her just how much surgery she got in LA so he can prepare. And honestly, he's not sure it would matter one way or the other. He's terrified that whatever her choice, Eddie will fuck up his reaction. The risk is unsolvable. Robin calls him out on his crush two months later, and since the other choice is even worse, Eddie lies, and says she's wrong. No crush. Nope. Not even a tiny one.

Eddie tries to will himself into becoming bisexual for an entire month, going so far as making out with a very feminine twink at a club - he thought he'd ease his way into this - but he's still decidedly straight. Rubbing against the twink's remarkably small dick wasn't repulsive, but it didn't do anything for him either. Sure, he learns there's all kinds of pleasurable things to try that he didn't know about, but he's still not into anyone but girls.

(I don't know if this is the right resolution bc Ive spun Eddie pretty tight here, but this is getting so long. )

Robin's girlfriend has a party at a gay bar for her birthday. Obviously, Eddie and Stevie are invited, and obviously, just like every other day on this earth, Stevie looks incredible. She has a sparkly dress and tall boots and glitter on her collarbones and Eddie wants to lick her. His lovelorn staring only gets worse as the night goes on. Stevie is dancing, and Eddie is drinking at the bar with a collection of purses and carabiners of keys slung around and clipped to him. It's obvious enough that a gay couple - Nick and Chris - starts teasing him about it, telling him to man up and ask the pretty girl to dance already.

Eddie is too drunk for this, and he for sure has a guilt trip later for it, but he just starts talking. All of his fears and all of his love, and how he can't ever say anything because he's tried, and he's straight anyway, and he loves Stevie too much to hurt her like that. It's an entire miracle that Eddie broke down in front of a decent pair of human beings, and not some assholes. They sweep him off to a quieter corner outside, help him calm down as he smokes, and feed him some fries.

Eddie is still wearing purses like bandoliers, is snotty and red eyed, is on his third cigarette and fourth whiskey, and resisting the need to runaway forever when the older of the couple calls over someone named Angel. A woman who, if Eddie was not hopelessly in love with Stevie, would be the source of an immediate new crush. She's older than he is, thin through the waist, thick thighs, bottle blonde hair in a ponytail, and has a few inches on Eddie with her heels. The primal part of his brain wants to climb her like a tree.

'Hi Chris. Oh, honey, you having a rough night?" Angel has a few words with Chris, then grins like the cat who caught the canary.

'You're gonna be my good karma for the month, cutie. You are attracted to me, no don't try, thats a cute blush but I can still see it behind your hair, you are. You're straight, right? Yeah, that's why you think I'm hot. Hey, Chris? Do you think I'm hot?"

"Not at all, babe. You know I only go for men."

Angel turns back to Eddie and leans close to explain. 'Chris is a bit of a man whore. Loooooves dick. Don't worry, he says it all the time. Favorite thing in the world, and I've heard he's great at sucking dick. Tragically, I never get to find out, because I'm not a guy.' She pushes the word a little. Then she steps even closer so she's pressed against his side.

Arousal sweeps through him because in love with Stevie or not, Angel is hot as hell. 'Wanna go fool around in the bathroom?' she whispers

Eddie is definitely tempted, already nodding, but doesn't get to speak. Angel rolls her hips. He feels -- A new bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. 'this change your mind at all?' Her voice drops two octaves, and Eddie's brain breaks.

Because, as it turns out, no. No, it does not change his mind. He's half hard, he still wants to climb her, and he's not entirely sure how to get her off, but he takes direction well.

'Aww, figure yourself out, already, honey? Or do you want to test run this a bit more before you go for it?' Angel is back to her real voice, a high alto. She has one hand on his chest, and Eddie can hear Nick laughing nearby. 'I won't lie, I know I won't get to keep you, but you look like we could have a real fun time as I teach you. Happy to get you trained up for her'

Eddie shakes his head, an insane mix of bubbly and numb.

'Ohhh, so you're gonna go get your girl?' She's teasing him.

Eddie nods, already moving, vaguely aware of more laughter and jokes about karma and saving lost lambs, but too fixated to listen. He's still carrying all the purses. He's not entirely sure where Stevie is in the bar. He has absolutely no idea what he's going to say when he finds her. Still not sure how to worship her properly. Extremely interested in following directions on the topic.

Eddie is still straight, but luckily, the girl of his dreams is dancing inside, and the rest of the details don't matter in the face of the possibility of finally asking her out.

When he finally chases her down at a high top with a cosmo, she laughs at how he looks, but he's never, ever seen her smile like she does when she agrees to a date with him.

--

This is sort of about a friend as they worked through realizing they weren't attracted to their wife after she transitioned, but that was sad, and this needed to not be. I guess I'm just thinking about the non-fanfic nature of life. Where it takes a guy a long while to figure himself out, because good intentions are separate from shifting how you think. Basically wanted Eddie in a situation where he has to reconcile the difference between gender and anatomy, and rewrite his own definitions of what he is and isn't attracted to. Robin had to go through a similar thing as she became attracted to Steve but only in the abstract. They're too platonic for gender to stop their bond

[ftmlily]

FOOTBALL TEAM (part 1?)

thinking about my first year of college when I wanted to join the football team. Imagining that I do, I go to the tryouts and I get accepted onto the team. I show up for my first day of practice. I’m excited to finally be on a sports team with a group of guys. Excited to be one of the guys. I’m nervous hoping no one has noticed that I’m trans… I don’t want it to be awkward, I just want to be part of the team and play with the guys.

When I show up all the other guys are sat in the locker room. I greet them and start changing into my kit. I don’t even think before I’m pulling my shirt over my head, I’m so used to it I forget… exposing my bare chest.

“what the hell are those?” the captain of the team asks… fuck I curse myself, he’s talking about my top surgery scars.

I try to protest that it’s nothing, quickly pulling my shirt over my head, but more guys have noticed and they’re not letting it go that easily.

“No no” the captain speaks up again, “take that shirt off right now” I don’t know why I do it, probably the fear of knowing there’s nine other guys staring at me right now. I oblige and take off my shirt. The captain comes over, he chuckles,

“Boys, if I’m not mistaken… we got one of those silly girls who thinks she’s one of the guys” My cheeks flush red and there’s a burning in my crotch. I’m so embarrassed.

“No, I’m a guy!” I protest, pathetically. “I’m-“ I go to explain that I’m trans and that I am a guy, but before I can two guys are pulling my trousers and boxers down to my ankles. All of the guys laugh and stare. I want to cry and run away but I’m frozen still.

“Were you really going to keep this cute little pussy all to yourself and not share with us?” The captain asks me in a mocking tone. Before I know it he takes a finger and starts teasing my pretty pink pussy lips. I swallow hard and shiver. “Let’s take a better look” he says and he takes two fingers now spreading my pussy lips open, massaging my already stimulated clit. I can feel how wet I’m getting and I hate it.

“Please stop!” I beg, but they all just laugh.

“Oh no no no sweetheart” the captain of the team says, and before I can do anything he shoves two fingers into my cunt.

“Fuck” I whimper “please stop!” there are tears in my eyes.

“You hear that boys?” The captain speaks up again, “She’s asking me to stop but I can feel how her cute little cunt is clenching around my fingers right now.” He removes his fingers and I breathe a sigh of relief… But then he shoves the fingers that were just deep inside my cunt into my mouth forcing me to taste myself. Against everything I want to do I being to clean his fingers off like an obedient dog. He smiles at me…

“New practice plan today boys” He smiles at me wickedly.

All nine of them spend the next couple of hours abusing my girly pussy and putting me in my place. Now I know not to lie again.

[foone]

Random thought brought on by seeing a veterinarian sign on the drive to Coffee Land, but I think Jesus would really appreciate people localizing his parable of the Good Samaritan.

Because, like, it's a good story, right? When the administrator-guy and the holy man wouldn't help the injured, the Samaritan went out of their way to make sure the injured man was able to get the help they needed, paid out of their own pocket. And that's good and all, but what even is a Samaritan? Do you know?

Well, they're a ethnoreligious group from northern Israel who follow Samaritanism, which split from Judaism sometime around the 11th century BCE. There's only about a thousand of them left. But around the time of Jesus, they were not very popular with your average Hebrew. Remember the Seleucid empire that was oppressing jews? There's a yearly celebration about it, involving a candle that lasted for 8 nights. Yeah. So at the time the Samaritans had taken the opportunity to point out they're not Jewish, they're Samaritans, so they wouldn't be persecuted. So they were seen as, like, selling out their brothers and sisters in the faith. Then by the time the Romans took over the whole area, the province of Judaea contained Samaria.

So basically the Jews and the seen-to-have-sold-them-out Samaritans were stuck in the same province, thanks to some Romans consolidating the areas they'd conquered. Tensions between the two groups were high, and I don't imagine either of them liked each other very much at all.

To a Jew of the first century CE, a Samaritan is basically the worst kind of person you could be, and that's exactly why Jesus used them in the parable of the Good Samaritan!

The parable isn't about Samaritans. It's about how the worst person you can imagine is a better person than the people you idolize and uplift, if that person takes care of their fellow man. It's about how you should love your neighbor as yourself, and who is your neighbor? Everyone. All people are your neighbors. Help them when they need help!

And that's why I say it should really be localized. You should tell this parable differently than it was told in AD 29 or whenever. Do you hate Samaritans? Probably not! You probably barely know who they are, even after I did some explaining up there. So why use them as your example? If Jesus was here, I don't think he would have done that.

So like, if you were giving a sermon on the good Samaritan in the 1960s to a white church, you should be like "so the policeman walked past, and the pastor walked past, but then a poor black guy saw the injured man, and got him help at the local hospital."

In the 80s, his rescuer is Soviet. In the 2000s, they're a Muslim, from Afghanistan or Iran.

Today? Maybe they're trans.

As an American, there's been many times that "Mexican" would have been the best choice. Maybe even today, especially if you specifically make them an undocumented migrant.

But yeah, the point is that you pick the group of people most hated by the audience you're talking to, and make the point that THEY ARE A BETTER PERSON THAN YOU and ALL THOSE YOU UPHOLD AS PILLARS OF THE COMMUNITY if they help their fellow man. If your worst enemy is lying injured in the street, you call the ambulance, you pay their doctor, you get them help. That's what Jesus says you should do. That's loving your neighbor, that's the Great Commandment.

And in the Roman province of Judea back in the first half of the first century, when talking to a Jewish audience, that meant the rescuer was a Samaritan helping a Jew. That was just the context for that one particular telling of the story. It shouldn't be told the same way today, or in the future. It should be an evolving parable, always changing, always adjusting the nationalities and situations and genders and everything. It's not a story about a specific event, it doesn't pretend to be history, it's a metaphorical lesson about what makes you a good person.

This parable is basically in the form of an "X, Y and Z walk into a bar" joke, and just like jokes, it should be updated over time. Those don't stay funny though the decades, as cultural attitudes shift. And this parable hasn't been updated in nearly two millenia, so it's long overdue.

[xxmethlordxx]

Laios x trans male reader.

(The reader does not have body surgery and will use words like pussy or hole to describe genitals.) reader's chest is not talked about, so!

And also, it does imply the reader is kind of small; I made that because I’m kind of small as a trans man, so!

NSFW————

You loved traveling with Laios’s party in the dungeon. You liked being in the dungeon in general; you liked your time with your party members; and you have never trusted a group of people more. But... sometimes you want alone time. You've tried in the past, but every time has been interrupted by a monster showing up, someone about to catch you, and yeah, it’s annoying. Each time you tell yourself, “I’ll have another chance,” but each chance gets ruined, and now you’re kind of mad. Another night of feeling pent up, Laios notices and sits by you.

“You okay?”

You turn to laios and go back to eating. “Yeah..”. Short and simple, you knew you couldn’t express your horniness to your party leader. Laios looked at you and frowned, knowing something was up, but you didn’t want to say it. The rest of the night, Laios kept looking at you, seeing you as more quiet and stressed. He felt bad as a party leader; he didn’t know what to do. Later that night, you stayed up super late, making sure everyone was asleep and sound. You slowly got up and walked down the hall, finding an okay room to try and do your business.

You brought a pillow to cushion your butt from the cold and hard dungeon floors and sat down. You sighed, got comfy, and started to trail your hand towards your clothed area. You started to slowly rub up and down on your clit and sighed, finally being able to touch yourself. You slid your pants off and underwear off, moved your hand around your hole to slick everything up, and rubbed your clit again, moaning quietly.

You pushed one finger, then two, and started to slowly pump yourself. You moaned more but felt frustrated; you wanted to feel full, and your small fingers were not cutting it. After another couple minutes of frustrating pumps, you sighed and looked over, and your eyes widened to see a sleepy Laios standing in the doorway.

“Oh, that’s where you went.” Laios said in a sleepy voice. You sat there frozen before covering yourself with your pants. “L-Laios! What are you doing up?!”

You felt embarrassed at how nonchalant Laios was, walking in on one of his party members touching themselves.

Laios didn’t say anything but walked closer, making you look up and down at him, confused. You watched him crouch down to you and smile tiredly. “Need help?” This caught you off guard. “H..help??” You thought you had heard him wrong, or maybe he meant something else, but your mind went blank when he pointed down on your crotch. “Yeah help… With that, you looked a little frustrated, hehe.”

This guy had to be pranking you.

Laios just smiled, waiting for your response, and you said, Fuck it, and nodded. With that, Laios smiles and sits down next to you, patting his lap. You hesitantly moved to sit in Laios’s lap and felt hands on your hips to push you more into his lap. You yelped at this laio, smiling and putting a finger over his mouth. “I wouldn’t want the others to wake up." He smiled as he took his bigger hands and opened your legs. You covered your face, embarrassed that this was even happening, but Laios smiled like he wasn’t about to help you get off. His fingers slowly made their way to your heat and moved his fingers into your slick, making you moan softly.

Laios took note of how warm your heat felt. He continued to move his fingers up and down, making you lean back into laios more and opening your legs. Laios looked down at your face, smiling. “Is this good? Am I doing a good job?” Laios quietly said, looking at you. “Y-yes…”. Laios smiled, and with his fingers slicked, he pushed one finger in, making you jolt. He felt your gummy insides and smiled, feeling around in your insides, making you whine as he felt around with his big finger.

You were a small guy, taller than Chilchuck, but for your race, you were still smaller than most, so when Laios used one of his fingers, it felt like two of yours. You moaned quietly and jolted again, feeling a second finger. Laios smiled, rubbing your tummy with the other hand to quiet you down, and started to pump in and out of you. You groaned, knowing he could reach places you couldn’t and whines as he kept feeling around inside you. Laios took in how warm in felt and the texture and went deeper with his fingers.

This caused you to moan louder, and Laios gently slapped a hand over your mouth. “We have to be quiet or we can’t continue." Laios sounded genuine, saying he didn’t want to wake up the other party members, and you nodded. He smiled, taking his hand off. “Good boy”.

This made you whine more. You’d never thought being called a good boy would sound so sweet, but when it rolled off of Laios’s tongue, it’s like you wanted more. "L-laios, curl your fingers more,” you quietly said, and Laios nodded and angled his fingers while pumping his fingers now. This action made you whine more. He was hitting the spot. Laios pumped faster, causing you to try and shut your legs, but laios beat you to it and used his hand to hold your legs open as he pumped in and out fast. Laios smiled and looked down at you as he continued.

You were a whiny, moaning mess. Laios tried to talk to you and ask you questions about whether he’s doing well or hitting the right spots. But you couldn’t speak, feeling his thick fingers go in and out quickly. You felt an overwhelming feeling that you were going to cum soon and wiggled around from the stimulation Laios was giving you.

Laios wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you still as he pounded your hole with his fingers. You whined and your body trembled as you felt your orgasm wash over you, feeling a wave of relief. Laios pumped in and out slowly a few more times and pulled his fingers out, now coated even more with your slick. Laios being the guy that he licked, it makes you stare at him. “Mmm~

You could not believe this guy.

You cleaned yourself up, and Laios stood there waiting for you and walked back with you. As you walked back, you blushed, looking at the floor.

“Thank you…”

Laios looked down and ruffled your hair, smiling.

“Anytime~”.

[qsycomplainsalot]

So as a good NB bisexual trad wife married to a Jewish trans person I was in church this morning trying my hardest not to fall asleep on the good lord's shittiest seating arrangement, as is custom. Cutting right to it, the sermon was weird. What I listened to was a French translation of a text by one Gary Heinz, whom I've been told is a Canadian pastor but the only one I could find online is from the Carolinas, with a degree from Charleston, so for the purpose of this post I'll just say he's American in the same vague way as his tomato-based namesake.

The sermon was talking about the tale of the good Samaritan, which most people know about, and was composed thuszthly. First it goes over the tale again, then it helps define the elements of it and how they're relevant to the point made by our boy Jesus. The priest sees a naked beat-up man on the side of the rode, presumably from a mount, and decides not to get involved even though if he had any way to know the man had been Jewish he would have been bound to help him. The second man is a Levite, traditionally someone who helps priests and knows the law just as well, but decides not to get involved either. The third guy of course is a Samaritan. The Samaritans are a distinct but very closely related ethnoreligious group to the Hebrews/Jews, who we are often told hate them. The Samaritan helps the person, provides first aid, props him up on his horse and walks him to an inn where he houses him by giving the innkeeper two pieces of silver and promising to pay any extra cost on his next trip back. This according to the preacher is a symbol of limitless charity, we'll get back to that. The context of the tale was a smartass asking Jesus what to do to be saved and when being told to do unto thy neighbor as you would doeth unto thineselfe (in Middle English, which was very confusing at the time), follows up by asking who his neighbor was, aka who he should apply the law to. The point being made is that although the law could be read and almost bent into only applying to people you care about, only people you're explicitly meant to treat well and even then only once you're absolutely sure they're marked as such, it's more important to follow the spirit of the law which is to be kind to everyone. Which is a good message.

So why am I kvetching ? That was only the first part of the sermon, and if you thought the second part would be about linking that message to current event you'd unfortunately be wrong. It's instead focused on finding, or making up really, symbolism in the story that foretells the passion of Jesus. You see the Samaritan was really a stand-in for anyone you might hate, including, and I quote, "a Nazi or a member of ISIS", because even they can be saved and be your neighbor for the purpose of doing unto them like unto thyself. And the two silver coins well you see they would pay for two nights and on the third one Jesus comes back from the dead. Now I'm not an expert on the cost of living in Ancient Judea. But Gary Heinz isn't either so I'm gonna say it, he pulled that number out of his ass. Also a little confused about the same storytelling element being earlier compared to limitless charity, only now to be quantified as worth two nights at a B&B. But that's just nitpicking, what I'm really tired of is every reading of the holy texts [cut to meme] by Christian preachers devolving into improv rapping about Jesus and how he died for us. The lessons in the Bible stop being broadly applicable to daily life and are instead contrived into fifty different ways to say "he is risen" like it's isn't the sole fucking reason we're in church to begin with. That's usually bad enough, but when a pastor says that the Samaritan in the tale of the good Samaritan was here for shock value and could be "a Nazi or a member of ISIS", this changes the meaning of the tale to "be kind to everyone regardless of who they are, including Nazis apparently", from the original condemnation of prejudices. The Samaritan didn't chose to be a Samaritan, he's not doing any harm being a Samaritan, and the tale shows that his religion being slightly removed from orthodox Judaism isn't as important as his doing good and helping his fellow man. I don't think someone who joined a political party predicated on the extermination of minorities would fit that message, and I think changing said message to a more broad declaration of love from Jesus is ignoring what people need to hear these days where prejudice against minorities makes up 90% of the news.

And you might say it's not really a preacher's job to raise awareness for current events, but I'll ask you this: is hearing about how Jesus totally died for you every week supposed to make me a better Christian ? Or is learning that he told us pretty much in clear text not to hate minorities based on prejudice gonna do that. Cause I think most Christians need to hear the later more.

[drdemonprince]

Your post about "transitioning to escape gender but then there's more gender" has been rotating furiously in my mind since I saw it. When I first realized I was trans at age 15, I identified as agender, but I knew I wanted to go on T and get top surgery so I decided it would be simpler to tell everyone I was a trans man and that just kind of became the truth. Now 10 years later I'm sorta starting to feel like I wanna actually be agender again, but the idea of an identity shift like that at my current age is terrifying and idek who I'd tell, or how I'd do it, and I don't think I wanna stop using he/him exclusively, and I have no idea why I'm telling *you* this other than that I'm scared to talk to anyone I know about it because it feels like somehow admitting that I was wrong about the gender I fought like hell to become, even though i don't really think that's the case I think my sense of self might just be continuously evolving... but I just wanna say you talking about having a gender shift like once every several years is helping me process this rn and feel like I'm not faking anything now AND wasn't faking anything before.

Dog i am right there with you. As a kid I always thought gender was bullshit, the coercive nature of it disgusted and scared me and I rebelled against it the best that I could. I loathed being assigned to any gender category, I never identified as a "girl", but I didn't really identify with any other category either. Puberty terrified me (and of course, it does most young people, but it felt like it would only more deeply entrench the category that I was assigned to in other people's minds, it made it more difficult to escape). I had trans friends as a teen but it did not occur to me to transition because there was really no end goal that I wanted to head toward, I just knew what I wanted to avoid and not experience. I coped mostly by degendering my body with a fairly androgynous style and way of presenting myself to the word and mannerisms, but also by starving myself which was not so great, and not sustainable. I considered transness for myself, even trying on a friend's binder and presenting masculinely at certain queer events, but it seemed to me at the time like just another way in which to obsess over gender, a foolish coercive socially constructed thing that i was trying to avoid.

In my 20s, I learned more about nonbinary people and figured that explained things pretty well. I was enamored with the transition journeys of some other trans people, largely trans women more than trans masculine ones (with some trans-effeminate faggot boy exceptions), but I still didn't want to take on all the expense and uncertainty and hassle of navigating the medical system for myself. I didn't think that the pursuit of being happy merited taking on so many risks or fiddling with myself so much. I saw it as an extravagance I didn't deserve, I guess, and I also couldn't locate a target outcome that seemed desirable enough for me. I was still dealing with an eating disorder and recovering from some trauma and didn't really think about my life in the long term. I guess I still don't, haha, whoops.

Eventually I came out as nonbinary, and nobody really gave a shit. There is a lot of useless, solidarity-breaking discourse that happens online about essentially who is "more" oppressed, binary trans people or nonbinary people, and a lot of that fight amounts to the two groups shouting about the ways in which they annoy one another without there being any cogent analysis of power and where oppression comes from (let alone how much those two categories overlap).

But I will say that being a they/them was far more difficult than being a trans guy socially and institutionally, because your identity is completely illegible to every system around you. "binary" trans people struggle under this too, but i have found there are some immense benefits to having a socially and institutionally legible target gender. nobody would fucking actually they/them me. not anyone. not even other trans people and queer people. there were no public gendered spaces for me. there were no spaces for me. there was no way to move through the medical system, professional life, and other public institutions as a nonbinary person. i was still just a cis woman in everyone's eyes. including the people who claimed to support me. and it was massively frustrating.

and so i think ultimately, i took my frustrations with not being at all able to escape coerced gendering as a nonbinary person and combined that with the affinity i do feel for queer men and the general sense of misery i was still experiencing in my life and decided what the hell, i'll round myself up to being a trans guy. i upped my T dose, i dressed more masculinely, i eventually got a super masculine hair cut that really squared off my jawline and got me gendered correctly, and i started more consciously inhabiting queer men's spaces.

and it was pretty dope. for a while. i felt the rush of having gotten away with something. when people effortlessly gendered as male i felt freed at last from the pressure to be a woman. i was no longer being coerced into being something that i was not. i had escaped the enforced category so much that people couldn't even see the history of that category being pushed onto me. there was relief.

but then. as always happens. people made little comments about my handshake being too weak for a man. the hypermasc dudes at the leather bar rolled their eyes at me and all the other effeminate dudes swanning around the bar. the people who picked me up off the apps or at the sauna would always let it slip, eventually, that they had a lot of experience with trans guys, or had most recently been dating all trans guys, and it would make me feel like a stock character to them, yet another category into which all kinds of assumptions had been projected. a type not a person. a few people said my haircut made me look like i was in the military or described me as actually masculine, which was equally jarring because it was so incorrect. people tried to affirm me by saying i was such a dude, i was such a man, i was such a fag, i was such a gay bro, pawing all over me leaving the mark of all their assumptions and oversimplifications behind. i had tried to run away from gender and there i was just BASTING all the time in everybody's goddamn assumptions about gender. trans people didn't talk about it any less than cis people did, they were just as fucking confining to be around.

it honestly feels really dirty. when people try to affirm your gender constantly and can't stop talking about it, when people look past you and see only your body, your history, or the role they have typecast you in, when people use your body as an outlet for their own gender or sexuality explorations, when they keep trying to measure every single facet of existence up into being masculine or being feminine or being toppy or bottomy or any other gendered type, it's claustrophobic.

as a trans man i tried playing this whole gender game and the second i started winning i began to feel even more disgusted with myself. it wasn't a victory or an escape, it was a capitulation. exploring with my identity and presentation has brought positive things into my life and my health has gotten better as a result, and i've made wonderful friends who, like me, are disaffected by this coercive gendering system. so i don't regret any of that. but trying to make myself legible under the existing gendered system was a fool's fucking errand. i wish i hadnt done it to myself and i wish i hadnt had it pushed onto me. to be clear, it was cissexist, binarist society that forced it onto me; even when other queer people coated me in their gendered assumptions that is obviously a byproduct of societal conditioning, and it's conditioning that ive reinforced in my own behavior and outlook toward others plenty of times too. we all do it, and we are all wronged by the existing coercive gender system.

i dont even care how i fucking identify anymore and i have no intention of changing pronouns again or anything, i'm so bored of it, i just actually want off this fucking thing. im not interested in trying to make others understand what i am anymore or in who i am even being simply categorizable, i dont want to obsess anymore over how i am perceived or to attempt engineer my appearance and mannerisms to broadcast an identity to anyone. i dont even want to fuck anybody right now at all because im so sick of how much that's a gender pantomime for people. i want off this fuckin ride man im so done.

it's kind of freeing, to hit this point of complete gender apathy, and i think it is a pretty common stage of identity development for a lot of queer people who have explored multiple identities and roles over time. there is no category that i actually am, or that anyone is, there are just the frameworks that society has given us to work with to understand ourselves, and the ways in which we flatten who we are to be able to make sense of the world using those frameworks. but who i actually am is so much more contextual and mutable than all that. i am a different person in the classroom than i am on the train platform than i am in the bedroom than i am cuddling on the couch than i am when i'm working out than i am when curled up on the floor crying than i am at a big furry convention. who i am continues to change as new people come in and out of my life and age and change and my body alters and as the weather turns. who fuckin knows man it's nothing and everything. i want to let it just be

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for sleeping with a 20 year old?

tw: mentions of potential grooming, age gap relationships, nsft/nsfw, vague discussions of sex

So, me (38m) and my wife (39f) are in an open relationship. Basically, we’re both bisexual and not quite ready to limit our sex lives to one person yet. So, we decided to allow friends with benefits situations outside of our relationship. No romantic stuff, no dating, just sex.

In January, my wife went to stay at her best friend’s (28f) house and have some fun together. I don’t mind at all, I was kind of glad to have our apartment to myself for a week. Now, there’s this queer bar that me and my wife frequent and it’s a good mix of all age demographics and identities.

There’s this one trans guy, I’ll call him M, that most people in the local community know because he’s very attractive. He reminds me of a very short Eric Draven mixed with Eddie Vedder. (Oddly specific, I know) Like, he has long-ish curly brown hair, big brown eyes, the sweetest smile ever and he dresses very well. A little grunge here, a little rockstar there. Good jewelry. You get it.

I always catch people staring at him when he’s at the bar with his friends. (We live in Europe btw, legal drinking age is 18.) In short, I find him very cute. He’s basically a micro celebrity among the community and he doesn’t even know it.

So, while my wife was away I went down to the bar and his friend group invited me to come sit with them. We started talking, he’s super funny and we began talking about Pearl Jam because of the shirt I was wearing. Found out he’s obsessed with the music scene of the 90s, specifically rock and grunge, and I happen to have a collection of merchandise of the big 4. I invited him to come check it out and he eagerly accepted. None of his friends wanted to come, so it was just us two. Showed him the stuff, he got super excited about it and I even let him keep one of my Soundgarden shirts and some CDs.

I offered to cook dinner, we ate and then had some weed brownies for dessert. We got posted on the couch, talked for a good while and he began confiding in me. I’m not gonna go into detail because that’s shitty, but he basically told me he’d never had a positive sexual experience up to that point. Apparently all of his exes were switches leaning submissive and he’s purely submissive, so things never really worked out and he never finished with any of them.

I told him about me and my wife’s arrangements and some other stuff about our sex life. (Don’t worry, my wife is 100% okay with this. Even in this context.)

Here’s where I might be the asshole, if not the creep:

Now, I was pretty high at that point and I joked about how I could give him a positive experience. To my surprise, he actually eagerly accepted. I was a bit hesitant because we were both buzzed, but he kept reiterating that he’s consenting and that he’s sure he wants this. So, I made sure he had a good night and he actually ended up sleeping over and we cuddled. It was super nice and he seemed genuinely ecstatic about it the next morning, it was adorable. I was honestly just happy that I was able to give him a positive sexual encounter.

We exchanged numbers, kept texting for two days and he ended up coming over again. Had some more fun together and he went to go sleep over at a friend’s place. At that point, I sort of realized that I may be catching feelings for him. Which is against me and my wife’s rules and also just a horrible idea, especially considering the age gap. So, I let him know that I need some distance and he was super understanding. He was understandably a bit disappointed but didn’t complain or anything.

Once my wife came back, I told her about everything. This is just a thing we do because it helps avoid speculation and unnecessary jealousy. We always tell each other about what happens with our other sexual partners, but only if they consent to it. Which most of them do because they’re our friends. She seemed a bit unnerved by it, not because of the fact that I had feelings for him, but because of the age difference. She said it’s weird and predatory and told me she needed some time to think.

Apparently, she went to go check in on M and asked him if I pressured him into anything. He said it was a 100% mutual thing and he’s very much into older guys, so he enjoyed it quite a lot.

This put her mind at ease but I’m still quite shaken by it. I never stopped to consider the fact that the age difference is quite concerning. I can’t help but feel like a nasty creep that bribed some poor 20 year with old band shirts to come sleep with him. I don’t like that I didn’t even think about it. Talking with M came so easy and we share a lot of interests. I’m not about to go and say he’s 'mature for his age' because he isn’t, he acts like any other 20 year old.

I was just so focused on how attractive and interesting he is to me, I fear I might’ve acted extremely selfish and should’ve stopped to take his lack of experience and his naivety into account. Of course he’d sleep with me, he’s 20 and doesn’t know any better. It should’ve been my job, as the older adult, to put a stop to it. Please don’t hesitate to give it to me straight.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Editor’s note: This hypothetically open letter was originally posted by its anonymous author on Medium and was rapidly removed as “hate speech.” We found it to be a refreshing dose of honesty, a charming and relatable open letter from one parent to other parents (not to the child, obviously!) about dealing with a challenging and dangerous moment in raising children, especially “weird” adolescents who search for their identities harder than others and risk making life-damaging mistakes in a way never before possible. We are reposting it here on New Discourses with the permission of the author.

--

By: Donna M.

Published: Mar 5, 2021

My dear, sweet, son,

I’ve got to break it to you: you’re not trans, you’re just weird.

This seems like a cruel thing to point out right now. Clearly, you are struggling and feeling pretty awful about things. I can see that you are in a rough patch, and one of the first rules of parenting is to not pile on. The world is pretty heavy on your shoulders. You’re fifteen. There’s a pandemic going on. But here I come anyway. I’m about to throw more on you.

When you were two ­– a happy, chubby, little tyke in pull-ups, you watched the world with wary eyes behind the thumb in your mouth. You leapt with joy in the rhythm of the toddle music classes. You chattered and shared stories about your stuffed animals. You loved your little sister. Enjoyed cookies and finger painting. That was all pretty normal.

But you also started to count to one thousand on our walks. And you started to call out the store names as we drove around. And you preferred reading books rather than playing with the other two-year-olds at preschool. And you hated sitting in the circle when instructed. And you hated the feel of blue jeans. And you threw big tantrums when you lost any kind of game. In other words, you started to show signs that you were… weird.

The grandparents were the first to notice. They said gentle things like “You oughta keep an eye on that one,” and sent us links to Wall Street Journal articles about child prodigies. And then the other parents in the play groups started to comment; “He’s pretty intense, huh?” And the teachers were on to it pretty quickly. They started to use fancy terms like “asynchronous development.”

By third grade, we realized you were different, but we still didn’t realize you were weird. Truthfully, we’re used to people like you. Our family is full of engineers, artists, musicians, computer programmers, and a lot of “free-thinkers.” Family gatherings always have chess, political debates, and quartets around the piano. That’s just us.

And besides, you had a small but solid group of friends. There was Pokémon, then Minecraft, then Magic, then Dungeons and Dragons, then Catan. You were never in the center of things, but you weren’t alone.

But then, in middle school, things started to change. By 7th grade, school finally started to require some effort, and it turned out you were pretty disorganized. People kept calling you smart, but the teachers were annoyed at your humor, and frustrated that you wouldn’t or couldn’t follow the guidelines for assignments. Classmates didn’t appreciate your frank (if accurate) descriptions of their efforts. I’ll admit, we got pretty frustrated with you, too.

And then puberty arrived, with its triple curse of acne, braces, and bizarre growth. The girls appeared to have it all together (I know they don’t, but they do appear that way). And the popular boys seemed to know exactly what to do. They can talk sports to each other, they brag about their romantic exploits. They never get in trouble for stupid reasons like forgetting an assignment three times in a row. Your anxiety started to kick in, and it seemed like you got smaller. And some of your guy friends moved on.

So you drifted over to the weird-o crowd. Well — I’m not sure what you call yourselves, but that’s what we would have called you back when I was in school. At different schools these are the geeks, or the theater kids, the math team kids, or the artsy-fartsy kids. This used to be where the gay kids ended up, but I think they’re more dispersed now. You get some kids whose parents are going through some rough times. Some girls with anorexia. A few boys who are edgy and angry. Kids with a great sense of humor and big hearts.

And some of these kids are really passionate. Just full of righteous anger about the injustices of the world. And some of them are dramatic. And truthfully, that looks pretty attractive to you. Because you share some of that confusion and anger about the world. And though you may not be sure what you think or what you feel, you are certain you don’t want to be on the bad side. You certainly aren’t like those popular boys with their suave charm and dominating manners. You’re not like them at all.

You’re actually more like those vibrant girls who can speak for hours about their ideas. Well, you would be if you could find the words to speak. And there is something so fascinating about those girls, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. You’d never think about talking to those girls anyway, because that’d be weird. Because you are weird. You’ve never been good at chit-chat, or eye contact. Or girls. And besides, you wouldn’t want them to get the wrong impression. You understand that your peers are starting to date, but you really don’t see the point. Sex is still gross and weird to you. It’s better to just call yourself “asexual” or “pansexual.” It’s like a get-out-of-jail-free card that helps you avoid the whole mess. And your group of friends tell you that you are super cool and brave for being able to say that about yourself.

But you’ve fallen into a funk. Anyone can see that. But computer games help. And there’s always trying to beat the speed record for that one game you’re kinda good at. And that one guy on reddit always has good tricks. And the people on that message board seem to get your humor.

So when one of them posts a meme about trans rights, it makes sense that you’d check it out. You’re curious! You’re a free thinker! You’re not like the normies. And the web quiz hits home. You do feel discomfort with your body. You don’t like sports. You do wonder what it would be like to be a girl. You’ve always felt like something was different about you.

You’re right. There is something different about you.

But you’re not trans, you’re just weird.

So we’re right here for you. We’ll always be here for you. But those online folks who urge you to “crack your trans egg” and rush to hormones and surgeries don’t know you at all. They don’t know that gifted kids and ADHD kids and Autism kids and Asperger’s kids are slower to develop emotionally and sexually. They don’t know that sexuality takes time and experience to figure out, and that the majority of trans teens seeking medical treatment haven’t even masturbated or kissed someone yet. They don’t know that 80% of trans children end up becoming comfortable with their birth sex if you just give them time. They don’t know that there are increasing numbers of desisting and de-transitioning people in their twenties. They don’t realize that hormones permanently stunt your growth, decrease your IQ, and can cause sterility. They don’t know that these hormones are prescribed off-label and there’s no research on the long-term outcomes. They don’t even know that the most recent research shows that short-term outcomes are clearly worse.

They don’t realize that you’re weird. But I do. You’re weird, kiddo. You’ll figure that out in a year or two. But that’s okay. We are all weird. And I love you anyway. You’re going to be just fine.

==

You always hear stories and justifications like, "she never liked wearing a dress," or "he always hated having his hair cut." This is post-hoc confirmation bias. Not only does this confirm everything critics say about this being a movement based on gross stereotypes, but they always leave out things like, "she refused to eat anything yellow," and "he was obsessed with elevator and crossing buttons and would cry if he wasn't the one to light it up."

It's okay to be weird.

[objection-u-a-bitch]

I seen you post about me hating.

I just like to say that I agree with it partialy.

Trans men are men, and disabeld men are men just like ableld bodied men (this includs trans men). But unlike cis, and ablebodid men, trans men and disabeld men are much more safer for women to be around. Trans men were treated like girls growing up, so they know what it's like, and we don't need to explain how we are viewed socialy. And we don't have to be sceard of disabeld men become they can't really hurt us the same way as able bodied men can. Like a man in a wheelcheir can't kill us with his own hands dou to phisical restriction he has.

And I still be sceard of Jewish, black, asian, ect, men because they are men. Like if I'm alone at night going home from work then I will be sceard of any men regardless of his religion, ethnicity (exept Russian, if you see a Russian no metter the genders they are defenetly up to no good), or race I will be sceard the same way.

And fat men are a mix bag. They are eather sweat guys who strougles with self esteem issues and deservs support, or a raging misogenist who hates on fat women.

I don't know what post I made that you think is about you. The post about needing to unlearn misandry to be an ally that is pinned to my account is directed at everyone in leftist circles, and not because of a singular post I saw anywhere. I made it over two months ago with regards to general frustrations I have with anti-masculinity in the queer community in particular, but also in other leftist circles. It's funny though that you saw that post and thought it was about you. I don't even know who you are. And you clearly aren't telling me, because you're on anon. I'm not going to spend the time telling you why all of your ask is horseshit. It just is. You treat minority groups like a monolith and use it to justify being scared and bigoted towards men of all kinds. You treat all trans and disabled men as nonthreatening, which is infantilising, while saying all Russians are dangerous, which is some McCarthyist Cold War red scare bullshit. You talk about fat men as if only the "good ones" deserve support. Men constitute approximately 50 percent of the world population. To hate, fear, dismiss, avoid, ignore, and insult them is incongruent with leftist ideas of making the world a better place for everyone. Men are as varied and complex as women. They can be as gentle or as aggressive as women can be. They can be as harmless or as dangerous as women can be. They can be as forward-thinking or as close-minded as women can be.

You can't treat men as a monolith, and you also can't divide men into neat little groups that you sort into "good" and "bad". Every person is an individual who can choose to do good or do bad. Some of the white able-bodied cishet men in my life are the most supportive and kind people I know, and I know some fucking vile disabled trans men who need to shut the fuck up.

Taking precautions for your safety at night is reasonable, just like putting your seatbelt on in the car is reasonable, just like putting a smoke and carbon monoxide detector on every floor of your house is reasonable. Treating all men like shit because a few of them could be bad is not.

[thedvilsinthedetails]

Rosekiller band au microfic!!!

hey guys, I wrote the first microfic in the lil series I’m doing, you can find the original idea for it here

ik I’d said I’d wait but I’m impatient hahaha

(some of the ppl that asked to be tagged if i ever wrote it: @always-reading @blu3stars @chaoticgaywitch @1284646imjusthere @depressedtheatrekiddo @idk-what-to-put-here-123)

anyway just wrote this pretty quickly so it might have some mistakes n stuff sorry abt that I don’t do grammar or punctuation anyway here you go, enjoy:

(EDIT: link to part 2)

••• Pink lipstick stains, cigarette butts

I lie in bed, I hate my guts

A day in the dark 

A muddled afternoon, yeah

Barty pressed his cheek close to Evan as they sang into the same microphone. He could feel the buzz of the music through the vibration of the stage below him. 

Oh baby darling how I long 

To become your suicide blonde

He ran a hand through Evan’s platinum curls as he sung the line. Evan leaned into it, eyes meeting Barty’s, grinning as he sung. 

To lie beside my Romeo

Oh what a wicked way to go

Evan’s fingers moved deftly on the guitar, he lifted a hand, twirled the pick in his hand before resuming immediately, he didn’t take his eyes off Barty the entire song. 

•••

“Ah fucking hell look at the comments Bee.”

Evan was sat at the base of the sofa, scrolling through the comments on a video of their performance last night. He held the phone up to Barty on the sofa, who squinted before taking it and reading it out to the room.

“Skittlefiend57 says ‘omg Blarty and Evan! I’m so gone 4 them u guys’”

“Blarty?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve been getting my name wrong all these years guys. Wow that’s a crazy thing to discover at 23.”

“Bad spelling aside, there’s way more. And it’s not all good stuff.”

Evan said and Barty looked back down at the comments. 

“Barty and Evan are queerbaiting, they act so gay but they’re not dating. It’s all clearly faked to get attention. Fucking pathetic. Why thank you peenisonapizza. Glad to see you know us personally and can therefore speak on our behalf.”

“Don’t know why they’re obsessed with accusing a band with two trans guys of queer baiting.”

Evan pinched his furrowed brow and shook his head in disbelief.

“They don’t even care about the fucking music, just us and whether we’re dating or not.”

Barty laid down on the sofa, dropping one arm around Evan and resting his chin on Evan’s shoulder.

“Hey cheer up Rosie. They care about the music. There’s a few assholes but that’s a given. If they weren’t talking about us acting gay they’d be talking about whether my tattoos are real or fake.”

“Or some conspiracy theory that Reggie’s not actually lactose intolerant.” 

Pandora chipped in.

“I’m not lactose intolerant!”

Regulus replied indignantly.

“Is that you talking or your obsession with chocolate?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes as she spoke. Regulus avoided her gaze as he mumbled out a half hearted response.

“Remus got me hooked on Tony’s chocolonely.”

While the rest of the group squabbled Evan leaned his head back against Barty’s shoulder, he pulled out his phone.

***

Evan.Rosier✔️

Hey everyone, I’ve noticed there’s a lot of speculation about me and @Barty.Grouch.JR and I wanted to say that it’s none of your business, you can think what you like but please don’t ask us or spam comment sections with theories. As always thank u so much for listening to our music, the skittles luv u x

***

Evan breathed in and passed the phone to Barty.

“You think this is good?”

Barty read it over and nodded.

“You’ve been really nice about it too.”

Evan huffed out a laugh.

“I was normal about, not my fault you would have said something like-“

“Roses are red, violets are blue, you are a cunt and I hate you @peenisonapizza.”

Barty took a small bow, flourishing his hand dramatically. Evan turned around and flicked him in the leg, which only succeeded in making him laugh. 

 “Ok I’ve posted it.”

Evan clicked post and watched as the ‘likes’ number quickly began to climb.

“Now I’m just not gonna read the comments on that post.”

Evan huffed out a laugh and Barty patted his shoulder.

“Good on you Rosie. Now who wants to watch a movie?”

Evan clambered onto the sofa next to Barty who leaned against him immediately, head resting on his shoulder.

“Rosie.”

Barty whispered.

“Yeah Bee?”

“Give me your phone. Look we both know it will bother you all evening not reading those comments if you have your phone on you. Just- out of sight out of mind, I’ll give it back to you once the movie is over but you deserve to have an evening off.”

Barty’s eyes were wide, expression genuine as he spoke. Evan hesitated then reached in his pocket for his phone.

“Don’t spam it with photos alright?”

A smirk spread on Barty’s face quickly, eyes sparkling.

“I make no promises Ev.”

Evan rolled his eyes but handed the phone over. 

The movie was something Pandora had picked, something from the late 80s, a strange mix of fantasy, reality and meta theatre that Evan actually didn’t hate.

Still he drifted to sleep at some point watching it, the stress of the day had clearly gotten to him and something about the way the top of Barty’s head made for a great pillow probably didn’t help.

Either way he woke up to the feeling of Barty shaking him.

“Come on sleeping beauty, let’s get you to a real bed. Here’s your phone back.”

Evan rubbed his eyes and got up, stumbling to his room as thanked Barty in a half asleep murmur.

He got to his room and turned on his phone, wincing at the glaring brightness, turning it down quickly. He opened his photos app, just as he’d suspected his camera roll was filled with new photos.

He began to scroll through them. There was one of his friends, all waving at the camera. A zoomed in shot of Inigo Montoya‘s face on the TV screen from a funny angle. Himself, looking dumb, sleeping with his mouth slightly open. He scrolled to the next picture and stopped. Barty with that cheeky grin of his, curled up against Evan, flipping off the camera. Eyes twinkling in that way that always made Evan feel a little warmer, a little brighter. He fell asleep again dreaming of a body pressed against his in a hug, the hum of a movie no longer playing, soft hair tickling his face and mischief painted in big brown eyes. 

For info about the position they’re sat in (it’s clear in my mind but I’m not sure how clear it is in the description), the song that they are playing and the movie they watch, look below the read more:

Position they are in before Evan gets on the sofa, red is Evan, green is Barty - yes Barty is uncomfortable, yes he would sit like that anyway bc Barty will do fucking contortion to be able to hug Evan argue with a wall

Don’t question the drawing skills, I can’t draw and did it in a moving vehicle

the song is EVOL by MARINA

the movie is the princess bride suggested by the lovely @lulublack90 who u shld defo check out bc she’s rlly amazing at writing

(Oh also Evan and Reggie are both trans in this)

[alluraaaa]

i do very much like the idea of baby butch lesbian pidge. or futch or however we wanna diagnose what she’s got going on in canon. but i’ve always seen her having a love/hate relationship with her femininity

when she first came out as trans she was veeery little and flocked to femininity like coming home. it was so easy to put on dresses and grow out her hair and play with girl toys. she wanted to!! and katie rolls off the tongue much easier than any other name, but her annoying brother still calls her that old nickname sometimes :/

(but it’s fine. it was pidge from pigeon. it was her first word. for some reason.)

and when she decides to sneak into the garrison detransitioning for the time being made sense. they’re looking out for a girl. with long hair. it’s the best plan she’s got. it’s for her family she can do it. she can do it she can just pick up the scissors… and…

pidge keeps his head down. doesn’t talk much, even to the two (other) guys he’s grouped with. doesn’t talk to them even as they all get launched into space with two more men. just five boys in a giant lion. guys night, right?

but soon enough it gets clear this isn’t temporary. this is real. they’re in this together. they have to mind meld and get along and be on the same wavelength twenty four fucking seven. pidge has to come clean.

so she does. she’s a girl. the name has grown on her but she’s a girl she’s she.

and the team accepts it. loves her regardless. hell, even saw through her botched haircut.

so… yay. she’s a girl and they know. but would they be okay with her being… girly? she’s missed the dresses and the hair and pretty flowers. yeah allura is all those things and they all like her just fine but would it be weird if pidge just suddenly gets girly? she likes the masc look too but damn she misses heels sometimes. she hates having to deal with her shortness

one day allura weasels all of this out of her and allura doesn’t take no for an answer. so pidge is dolled up in one of allura’s best dresses, face beat to the gods, hair done in the girliest style they can manage with her… whole situation. and she’s beaming at her reflection

then allura drags her to dinner, hiking up the skirt so she doesn’t trip over herself as she gets into her seat. pidge toughens up and waits for the laughs to hit her. for someone to assume pidge got roped into this and secretly hates it. the “uhh… who are you and what have you done with pidge?”

but none of that happens. shiro says she looks nice. keith likes the hair. hunk likes the dress. lance demands to get dolled up next.

if anyone notices pidge’s immovable smile for the rest of dinner, they don’t comment on it. and they don’t bat an eye when skirts and dresses make their way into the rotation of pidge’s outfits right alongside her pants and overalls

[spacelazarwolf]

i think you’re absolutely right about the cuntboys/make trans guys pregnant shit. it made me so uncomfortable too.

pregnancy has always been a giant fear of mine, and there are people out there who genuinely think forcing trans men to get pregnant will ‘fix’ us or some shit. like, sure, it’s fine to joke abt stuff that affects you, but that post didn’t read all that jokey to me tbh.

and the cuntboy thinf. seriously? that’s essentially just pushing us- (sorry can’t remember the right word for it lol) but it’s just pushing us down to labeling us by what we were born with and differentiating us from cis men

it's just blowing my fucking mind to watch them try to backtrack and claim it was "just joking about kinks between friends" because that is literally not what happened. they were talking specifically about a group of "cuntboys" they don't like, said that they should make those "cuntboys" they don't like "fat and pregnant" and then joked about making them "breeders." if they were joking about a kink between friends, they'd have made a separate post and used language that made it clear they were talking about themselves. they didn't though bc they were literally talking specifically about a group of people they don't like and specifically weaponizing a terrifying and traumatizing experience a lot of trans ppl who can get pregnant never ever want to experience.

and i put this in the tags of my other answer, but like. when roe v wade fell, i waited on the phone for 4 hours with the "women's health clinic", the only clinic in my area that took medicaid, to try to get an appointment to get sterilized and it took another two weeks just to get it confirmed. i remember the guy i was hooking up with texted me the day the news broke and asked if i wanted to stop hooking up because he knew how huge a fear pregnancy is for me. i had been trying to get sterilization surgery for years but kept getting sent away, and finally i had to just tell the doctor i had my appointment with "listen dude i am almost 30 i know what i want if i get pregnant and i can't get an abortion my only option will be to kill myself and i really want to fucking live so please give me this surgery." insurance ended up not even covering a hysterectomy so i had to opt for tubal removal. because even being on hormones and having a clear record of asking over and over again for sterilization wasn't enough to grant me bodily autonomy, i had to give them no other option. i got misgendered the entire time i was at the hospital and don't even remember how i got home because i was barely out of anesthesia and conscious when they loaded me in my sister's car.

a pregnancy is a death sentence for so many trans people. and for those that end up going through it, or even for those who want to go through it, pregnant trans people are treated horrifically. if your kid comes out with birth defects, you can be prosecuted for child endangerment because testosterone can cause birth defects.

you do not fucking make jokes like that about other people. and you do not turn around and tell the people you made rape/forced pregnancy jokes about that they're being too sensitive or that they're somehow making you uncomfortable for calling you out on your disgusting and misogynistic joke. this is not fucking 2016 reddit you do not have to be an edgelord to be accepted as one of the guys. making literal rape jokes is not protecting trans women. it's you being a misogynist. i am not changing my mind on this.

[pawberri]

I guess it’s like…not having a word isn’t bigotry, yes this is true I agree. But it seems like a lot of people take the stance that having a word IS bigotry. Why? (Idk what other anon’s beef is with cause their wording definitely make it sound like protecting trans women is a bad thing)

I think that theoretically just “having a word” is not bigotry, but there’s more to the impulse than just convenience. Defining transmisandry as a separate concept implies that trans men have oppression separate to the system all other trans people are subject to. While transmisogyny is a compound of two oppressions, transmisandry either must commit to the idea that cishet -white-privileged-in-every-other-way men are oppressed simply for being men, or that trans men are oppressed in an exclusive, unique way. It’s dismissing the existing concept of intersectionality as offensive and inadequate only by virtue of not centering trans men. If another trans guy started saying we needed to talk about “transheterophobia” I would roll my eyes because I, as a bi trans dude, have seen how heterosexual trans men still benefit from the privilege of heterosexuality while gay trans men deal with both homophobia and transphobia. The transhet dude is suffering expressly because he is trans, and pretending there is an intersection of “transphobia” and “heterophobia” is just an attempt to avoid accepting any amount of systemic privilege. I WANT to engage with that trans man about how much it sucks to be excluded as a trans man, but he’s choosing to distance himself from me and center his own experience.

This same thing happens in all minority groups. This is a classic pattern, not a new bit of linguistic inclusion. A follower of mine on twitter discussed, for example, how white natives often speak over their brown native siblings. White natives experience genuine erasure and racism and systemic oppression, but they can also weaponize those experiences against the more marginalized in their community. The manosphere on YouTube has plenty of men of color who discuss how they can’t possibly be privileged because they experience limited privilege, all while throwing women of color under the bus. Etc etc.

And there’s also this disconnect where people think “privilege” = happiness. Patriarchy, transphobia, capitalism, all these systems make us all suffer. Maintain privilege often even involves suffering. A closeted person might stay in the closet for fear of losing their privilege at the expense of their happiness. A person who is forced to face significant systemic oppression might be happier on an individual level because they have community and support etc.

I love trans masculinity. I love being a trans man. I suffered so much to accept this identity. I was told I was disgracing womanhood and being evil. Transphobia is a plague. No man with an oppressed identity has FULL access to male privilege, and full access to male privilege doesn't guarantee happiness. But it is a privilege. It exists. It's a concrete, quantifiable experience. It's a system. It doesn't mean you don't suffer, because you suffer a ton. It doesn't mean your voice doesn't matter, because it does. But that was all true without the word "transandrophobia." So I necessarily have to question the impulse to make up a word that denies that your experience is part of a continuum of experiences.

Tl;dr You think you just fell out of a coconut tree? You exist in the context of everything that came before y

[lionmythflower]

alr guys, gender HC time :D

starting w James

My man is 100% trans-

Him, Pete and marls all transitioned together :D

His parents are completely cool w it

He/him or he/her pronouns it depends

either js a trans guy or bigender idk

so either ftm or female to bigender :)

Pete now

Transsss :D

He/they/it pronouns

Still has a kind of feminine look

And used makeup and stuff :D

and like I said, they transitioned w James and marls

his mom is kinda..... iffy Abt it... Like- will still dead name him and call him a girl

but says she's supportive

but anyways

ftm

effie bought him their first binder and he cried <3

Sirius:

genderfluid!!!!!

and switches between she/her, he/him and they/them pronouns (sometime combines them tho)

them and marls are gender fluid icons

And bond over it

The marauders and marls helped him figure out her gender :)

Remus!

Trans guy lol

Ftm

Poor thing has two versions of 'time of the month'

he/they pronouns

his parents are ok w it

They were a bit weird abt it at first tho

he transitioned in like 2 years the same time Mary did so they js switched dorms lol

Marlene ml <3

genderfluid!!!

Male to gender fluid tho

Her mom is not supportive and very open abt that fact

So they mainly go to Effie for anything she needs

transitioned w Pete and James

Mainly talks to Sirius, Mary and some Barty abt gender shit

lilyyyyy

Trans mtf

Her and Mary transitioned together

:)

Her, Pete and Evan are all trans asexuals so they have a group

She/they pronouns

Her mom is honestly supportive

But doesn't rlly know how she can help so js gets whatever Lily needs to feel comfortable:)

Pandoraaa

Transsss (mtnb or mtpg)

(.... they're all trans in someway)

But they're either pangender (my main hc for them) or nonbinary

They/them pronoun preference

But rlly any pronouns is fine

Evan and pandora transitioned at the same time so their parents literally js switched their names and was like fine js pretend ur the other person

feminine presenting tho so most ppl think they're a girl but they honestly don't care that much

Evannn

trans lololol

He/they pronouns

Bigender (ftbg)

Like I said, he and Pandora transitioned at the same time

Barty

Nonbinary, they/him

Prefers they/them but only rlly their friends know that bc their not out to hardly anyone bc of their dad

Their mom knows and supports Barty

(Dorcas, barty n pandora are the they/them group lol)

Dorcas

Nonbinaryyyy (ftnb)

They/them

they're parents dgaf 💀💀

Their like ok u do u cas

But their supportive

Regulus

Trans.

Lmaoooo

But yea ftm

He/they

:)

Should I do one more like the others? Like Emmeline, Benji, Amelia, Edgar and them??? (Also ppl need to give me more info on the other ppl that aren't the marauderr, valkeries and Skittles plsss)

(I've had this is my drafts for fucking MONTHS so um heh sorry)

[olderthannetfic]

Pronoun discourse is just as exhausting in person. A trans girl in my group project for History of Modern Europe refused to use he/him for me because "they/them is neutral" and I looked her in the eyes and said, "I will not reply to group texts, upload anything or share resources if you don't refer to me correctly. I use silence to train my dogs, I use it to train transmisandrists, too." She was furious and spent a few weeks misgendering me... until she realized I was serious and I would let all of us fail this group project because this he/him? Yeah, this he/him had a 100 on every single assignment up until that point and could take the grade hit. If other people can't, well, that's not my problem.

She learned to call me he/him with incredible regularity once her grade was on the line. Suddenly, two words weren't incredibly hard to recall and abruptly, not every conversation with her turned into her lecturing me on how trans women have it harder than trans men. We were able to talk about the actual subject of the group assignment and she was able to remember he/him.

Meanwhile, the cishet members of the group had not struggled to recall he/him for me once, nor had they turned group project meetings into discourse once.

Why are queer people always most vicious with their fellow queers? I'm in MONTANA, and the people worst to me aren't the fucking rednecks, it's other queer people. Rednecks don't condescend to me about how they/them is neutral and good and indicates they're trying their best and trans men have it easy actually. It's the city queers sitting there going, "Rather than just call you he/him and spend this meeting for our group project focusing on the project, I'm going to treat you like the enemy and lecture you." People talk about the concept of a 'queer community' but getting lectured about how trans women have it worse than trans men (because I guess my saying 'use my pronouns' secretly implies I think trans men have it worse? idk, I don't speak bullshitese) doesn't make me go, "Ah, yes. My community! I feel so supported!" it makes me go, "Oh, fuck. Great, I'm stuck talking to an asshole."

Between this, the lesbians I've met on campus who keep making, "gays can't do math or science or history or whatever other subject we're in right now" jokes who seethe with contempt for the privileged gay men, the cis gay guys terrified of doing something perverted who view drag, cosplay, wearing a skirt, wearing makeup or fucking around with presentation at all as not okay/possibly problematic and the NBs who cannot emphasize enough to you that they're one of the good ones who don't dye their hair or wear stupid shit or use neopronouns like the bad ones do, and the utter disgust they all look at anyone with who dares use the word queer, I'm beginning to feel like "the queer community" is one of those things you don't get access to until you're 30+. Alternatively "the queer community" appears to "antis, but with rainbows and flags and ew you think the rainbow flag is for everyone you're so problematic", which is... not great, honestly?

I know this will get a lot of queer people very angry but I'll say it: there are 492 anti-queer laws proposed in the USA, not counting the ones that have passed. We should probably focus on that instead of going for each other's throats and then saying we're a "community".

--

I don't think it will get many queer people around here angry, but yes.

We have more of a need to draw together into a community when everyone's dying of AIDS or getting beaten up or trying to stop laws that make it illegal for us to exist.

Some people have the privilege to shit all over that community. They don't see it as one, but it is.