#but i do feel i mainly see this 'concern' targeted at women)

[rixareth]

As requested, I have examined my fondness for terrible characters, and I have concluded that I like them because they're terrible and I'm not sorry.

[sixty-silver-wishes]

Thoughts on the Barbie movie

So I finally saw the Barbie movie! I was excited to watch it for a long time, and overall, I really liked it, although I wouldn't consider it quite perfect. Here are some thoughts upon first viewing-

First, what I liked. The set design, cinematography, and costuming were incredible; it was so fun and refreshing to see practical effects and the sort of artistry that went into this film. The characters were mostly likeable (put a pin in that), and the comedy definitely landed; I was laughing out loud multiple times, and the fourth-wall breaks were a ton of fun. While I've heard different people say different things about the feminist (or at least attempted feminist) messaging and how effective it was, I really liked the point that women didn't have to be extraordinary to be fulfilled or respected. It didn't shy away from topics like aging, emotions, or bodily changes, and I loved how older women were also uplifted in this film, as well as the messaging that patriarchy is damaging to both men and women. And I really appreciated that Barbie and Ken didn't end up together; as an ace person, that representation was really nice to see. Michael Cera as Allan was adorable, and I loved Kate McKinnon as "Weird Barbie." It was nice to see a diverse cast, and in today's climate, after the barrage of hate towards trans people in politics and society, seeing "Doctor Barbie," played by Hari Nef- a trans woman- being called "beautiful" in a big-budget mainstream film was honestly heartwarming. I was definitely crying a bit towards the end, and I'm hoping to watch the movie again sometime.

As for what I didn't like, most of it comes down to the character of Sasha. She was exasperating every time she was on screen, and was written in a grating "how do you do, fellow Gen Z's" way I couldn't stand. While it's true that activism and social justice are obviously components of Gen Z culture, Sasha felt like a caricature of this in the worst possible way. Her calling a Barbie doll "fascist" for setting "unrealistic standards for women" was especially eye-rolling, considering that actual fascism is on the rise both in the United States and around the world, and it felt belittling to the concerns that young people have been vocal about in recent years. For a character representing the "real world," she felt incredibly unrealistic and one-dimensional. However, I did like Gloria's character, and the relationship between her and Barbie.

For a film sponsored by Mattel, I wasn't expecting much in terms of anti-capitalist critique, and while it was sort of there on a surface level, I feel like the film could have gone more into how the concepts of patriarchy and capitalism intersect. They touched on it a little with the Mattel CEO claiming to care about girls and women but only because they were his target market, but I felt more could have been done there.

Some people have been saying the film focused too much on Ken, but I personally didn't mind his arc; it was mainly about how patriarchy harmed men, while Barbie's was about how it harmed women. While I feel like the Kens deserved consequences (conse-Ken-ces?) for trying to overthrow the government and enslave the Barbies, I guess you could also argue that the battle amongst themselves counted as such, as the film displayed that patriarchy is a self-destructive construct. I felt like the Barbies being brainwashed represented internalized misogyny (the "tradwife" movement came to mind), and while Gloria's speech was good and all, I would have also liked to see that concept deconstructed further.

Overall, I'd give the Barbie movie a 9 out of 10. Beautiful visuals, interesting thematic points, and a lot of fun, but I just wish it could have dug a bit deeper.

[barbiegirldream]

So let me see if I can wrap my head around this correctly. From the perspective of a Queer POC boob:

Ranboo can look at a bunch of threads of, essentially, a non issue of POC twt fans whining and pissing their pants because a closeted Queer person chose to actively help a community he was more familiar with than a community he would no absolutely NOTHING about (and would probably have some horrid ass takes like Tubbo/Phil did about the slap shit, eugh), but somehow feign ignorance and even JOKE about the rapant Queerphobia going on in his community, especially towards one of his supposed "close" friends- not even at least TRY to say to be kind towards him or others, even if you don't like him (Thank You Wilb, god bless) AND have the audacity to ignore the countless people sending him the thread, when it didn't even take HOURS for him to notice those threads by Pissbaby POC, and even address it not once- but THREE TIMES (Discord, Twitter, and Twitch).

But somehow. Someway, Dream's fans (I'm not even gonna dignify with Stans because at that point, this term is just derogatory for me) are the ones who bend over backwards for a white man who what? Isn't labeled? Doesn't even know where he falls on the spectrum, but still tries to at least acknowledge the hardships- no marter how minor- that his fans go through w/ the rampant Homophobia/Queerphobia going on in the world? Even taking pot shots at Chic-fil-A? A company who was outted for actively funding Anti-LGBT groups????

"BUT THE KKK/ISLAMPHOBIC EDIT-" At least that edit was years old and Dream- whether he made it or not- owned up to it and apologized to both groups one way or another.

"BUT THE DRUGS DRUGS TWEET-" Was made months ago and wasn't even making fun of Black People, let alone even targeting a specific Group to make fun of- but he still apologized for anyway.

I feel like I've been a huge fan of the wrong mf, I'll take the white prev. conservative Queer man who actually knows when shits fucked vs the White Queer man who actively was teetering the lines before activing his "Queer" trap card (not even an exaggeration either).

mhm I think what's different mainly is Dream had to put in the work. He was raised with no background in how to be supportive of the type of community he ended up fostering. That being poc, women, nd people, queer people, jewish and Islamic people. But he wants to be so he listens to his fans and he has an open line of communication with them. If you dm him a concern about something serious it's really likely you get a reply directly.

And Dream does respond to everything like literally everything he responds to. And if he thinks an apology is in order he gives one. He did address the edit for eight minutes and apologized for it directly. With the drugs drugs tweet he said he had no intentions of fostering harmful stereotypes so he deleted his tweet he got what people were worried about. Because he listens one thing Dream has always advocated for is the opportunity we as an online international community have to listen to one another and learn from one another.

But Ranboo doesn't want to put in the work. He thinks recognizing that he's white is enough to be anti racist it's not. He thinks being gay means he can't be homophobic it doesn't. Ranboo is 18 and I think he absolutely can grow and improve but it's a little upsetting to see he's so opposed to actual criticism he would let a friend and fellow cc be harassed by his own fans. Like someone tell Ranboo that Dream isn't responding to things because they're being spammed at him but because he wants to foster a better community and knows open communication is the best way to do it.

[mikoriin]

Hello Mikoriin! I saw your request for experiences of wearing the hijab for your character and I thought I'd chip in with my pov! (hopefully this helps!)

As a background, I'm a 31 year old muslim malay in Malaysia. I grew up with a pretty balanced muslim family of 7 children (i'm the second eldest). My parents are both from lower income families who got overseas education (scholarship) in the States back in the 80s. So while they're very strict with basic rules where the religion is concerned, they're pretty balanced and liberal in letting us decide what we want to do with what we're taught about the religion. (i.e they told us to wear the hijab when we were kids but they did say if we don't want to anymore when we're older, we're free to not wear it [though it'll make them sad]. They explicitly mention this as a sign of respect that we're adults who can decide what we want with our life at a certain point) .This is not quite the norm as far as I heard, so I think that has influenced me quite a bit in how I adapt to many aspects of Islam, including how I see wearing the hijab.

To summarise it, the hijab to be is a veil of protection. Ofc the texts tells us this is what is to be expected of us women, but I was also told that it is to give us the power of deciding who we want to reveal our crowning feature (or in some texts, it's actually described as the 'crown'), mainly it refers to our hair (as far as I'm told. I'm not an expert but it seems to be the case). To me at least, as someone who is very reserved and careful with others, I appreciate being able to feel like revealing this (a part of myself) is within my control at least. But I'm a pretty private person in general, so I think this works out the best for me too. And having something to be considered sacred really grounds me, personally. I've been told this is pretty old-fashioned but I like it at least T-T I feel very empowered wearing a hijab.

Between you and me, I've tried walking out without it and it just didn't feel right. I didn't appreciate the way people looked at me and their insistence that "you're better this way". I felt very... invaded in a way? If that makes sense? I ended up putting on my hijab again after and never took it off since (only when I'm really nauseous, sick or i'm in some kind of physical ailment and I need some air).

I also personally appreciate that as someone who is of a very mixed heritage and as someone who doesn't really feel like I belong in any category through my life, that I am recognised as being muslim from a single look. Even though these days it makes me a bit of a target when I travel to western countries and that can be scary, it makes me feel like I belong somewhere. Like I have some identity that I feel at home with.

Also, I realise that growing up wearing the hijab has really taught me what is considered beauty and I learned early on about what the public perpetuates as a standard of beauty isn't all there is to me at a very young age (way before the internet was talking about it). There's some sort of switch that turns on when you have to dress yourself with limitations. There's something weird about it that kind of makes you dig deeper because I can't dress like most of my friends do so I guess that makes me search for my individualism in an organic way. What I've learned has balanced me a lot and I really, genuinely enjoy wearing it. Not to mention the kind of things you can do creatively with a hijab is endless! And at most if I mess up, I'll be damaging fabric i can recycle into something else rather than my hair TvT haha. this works well for me who's not very good at handling delicate things like hair.

Also a plus is that you never have to worry about bad hair day lmao. I love being able to rush for my university classes way back when and just stuff my hair into my hijab instead of having to put products and protect it from the sun so this also appeals to lazy little me lmao.

So basically!! It makes me feel safe, makes me feel beautiful. It's convenient, it gives me a sense of identity. A sense of belonging. And it's my ultimate lady's tool to always look as clean and sharp as possible! haha. I hope this helps! Sorry for the long ramble :,))) I'm so excited to hear you're writing a hijabi character! Makes me so happy!

wow thank you SO MUCH for your input!! i think i want to incorporate some of these thoughts into heather's character if thats okay! i already have her wearing hijab because thats 1) how she was raised by her parents, 2) because she feels beautiful and confident in it and without it she feels naked. i personally have always thought hijabs were so beautiful and muslim women were so graceful and ethereal with their headdresses, and i kind of want to give heather a bit of that from growing up seeing her mom look beautiful in hijab. i havent designed heather's mom but i want her to be gorgeous for sure haha

i also did originally have heather's parents be kind of strict with their religion, but i think i might change it to where theyre still very devout, however theyre more lenient with it comes to how their children interpret their religion and what it means to them. heather is an only child right now, but maybe ill give her a sibling or two as i develop her and her family more! (definitely thinking i want elise to have younger siblings instead of being an only child)

but yeah thank you so much for this beautiful message and for sharing your thoughts with me it was really insightful!!

[lady-conjuress]

Black people will Kumbaya with anyone like fools. So concerned about a war overseas not even aware of Africans (not Black/Afro-Americans) being targeted in both Israel and Palestine. The US should’ve kept its nose out of that whole situation. The way that I’ve seen Israelis/Jewish people (obviously not all, but a noticeable chunk) creating false narratives in order to garner sympathy from stupid Black-Americans that are drunk on hubris is astonishing. The same goes for the Palestinian side of the war based in America using slavery and other historical situations to tug on the heart strings of Black-Americans.

I am going to be completely honest. I don’t know what’s going on overseas. I don’t even care because I have no connection to those countries. If peace can be made, then let it be, but after that, I truly don’t know who to believe because both sides are manipulative. One even has a tactic that their religion encourages to push propaganda/agendas in order to blind the “infidels” (that would be those of us who are not of that religion) into letting extremists into foreign lands. All I will say is that it’s quite evident that it has a strong presence in Europe and it’s growing in America due to the Left’s stupidity and lack of patriotic pride to preserve our country.

Let this be a lesson, Black women. Know of who’s asking for your attention (which is currency). Know of the reason (and do your research from sources that are as unbiased as they can be). Notice the patterns because you’ve already pointed out how people will use Black people (mainly the women) as the mules and foot soldiers for their causes, but rarely every yours (and I’m not talking about BLM, but the specific things that threaten Black women solely).

As the saying goes: “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” Don’t let this happen to you again.

It’s one thing to feel sympathy for people, but it is a completely other thing to be thrown into an emotional storm where you cannot see everything clearly. Be wise and proceed with caution.

Do not be anyone’s toy that they can play with, dirty, and dispose of until need again for future events. Have some respect for yourselves.

— Lady-Conjuress🧿

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Vassal of the King (part 5)

Frerin x OFC

Author's annotations are here!

*****

Frerin is one hundred and thirteen when he and Verdandi lie together for the first time.

Frerin is shaken as he contemplates the scene in front of him, a Dwarf (Norien is his name, his family owns a food store in town) lying on the floor, unmoving, a trickle of blood falling down his chin. For a brief, terrible moment, Frerin is back at Azanulbizar, among the scattered bodies of his dead kin, the moaning of the wounded, the stench of desperation filling the air...

And then, the spell is broken. Norien moans, propping himself on an elbow as he cautiously touches the corner of his mouth; a couple of friends help him back on his feet. "What has gotten into you?" he exclaims, equally angry and surprised "Why did you get in the way? This does not concern you."

"It is true, it does not." Frerin replies, hoping he looks and sounds more sure of himself, and less unsettled, than he feels "But Verdandi has made it clear that she does not appreciate your interest. You should leave her alone."

"And who are you to tell me what to do? You are not her father, nor her intended, or am I wrong?"

The subject of that discussion is standing next to the two arguing Dwarves, staring with a sigh at the tankard of ale she was in the middle of enjoying when Norien came bothering her. She hates that sort of situation, especially when she is the unwilling cause, but she has seen the expression of the barkeeper behind the counter progressively darkening in the course of the last two minutes (since, in other words, she has seen Frerin, who at this point for her is still Fjalar, parry Norien's clumsy punch to his face with his forearm before countering with a blow of his own and perfectly hitting the target) and this is why she decides to intervene.

"Stop it, both of you, now." she says, putting herself between the two, who seem ready to exchange more blows, and looks sternly at them; some Dwarf women would appreciate it, two suitors fighting for them, but all Verdandi feels is annoyance, and exasperation "Brawling helps no one, least of all me. And why are you discussing about me as if I were not present?"

Frerin looks at her; he seems wounded, as if disappointed she does not appreciate his intervention. "Verdandi, I only wanted to..."

"I do not care." she stops him; she knows he had her best interests at heart and she is grateful, but he cannot fight her battles for her, as if she were too young to do it... or if he were her husband "Please, apologize to the barkeeper. Both of you."

Frerin and Norien exchange a tense glance, more than ready to resume hostilities, but they both privately decide it is better to obey, for Verdandi's sake if nothing else.

"I apologise, master Virr."

"I am truly sorry. It will not happen again."

The older Dwarf grunts in response; brawls are nothing new, even though this is maybe the first that occurs while the fighters are still sober. "Just go." he answers, before going back to the kegs to tap.

Satisfied, Verdandi takes a single, long swing of her beer (the tankard is still half full, she regretfully notices) and takes Frerin's arm under hers; Norien, who is using his sleeve to clean his chin from the blood, sees it and darkens, but the Dwarf woman pretends not to see.

"Let us go."

Frerin lets himself be pushed outside, vaguely displeased (why is Verdandi leading him around, as if he were a child holding his mother's hand?) but mainly relieved. He is probably the only Dwarf his age to have never been involved in a brawl, and that is a distinction he is doing his utmost to maintain: he has had enough of violence in his youth, enough of blood and pain and death, to last for a lifetime, and he has sworn to himself to never lie hands on another creature again, even if it is a simple fistcuffs in a tavern.

But tonight... tonight, as he was enjoying a quiet evening with an ale and his pipe in front of the fire at The Axe and the Holly, a tiny, cozy tavern not far from the forge, he saw Norien bothering Verdandi at the counter (he could not help it, since he was already looking at her, alone and so pretty in her jade green dress, wondering whether he would have the courage to invite her to sit with him, and knowing he should not do it in any case) he noticed the tense, uncomfortable expression on her face, and he knew he had to do something. The other Dwarf had attacked him first, and it had been a single punch, nothing more, but he cannot help feeling ashamed, the memories of his first and last battle, at the gates of Khazad-dûm, still uncomfortably close.

He does not regret it, though; not since he had to do it in order to defend a woman, not since he had to do it to defend Verdandi. For her, he realizes in the privacy of his heart, there is very little he would not do, and this is the scariest realization of his life.

They leave the tavern behind them, immersed in the cool autumn night; the streets are almost empty given the hour, dark but for the odd wall-mounted torch, and he cannot stop looking at the reflection of the flames playing on the dark colour of Verdandi's hair. There is nothing, Frerin thinks, he would not give to feel that silky mane in his hands at least once.

"I did not enjoy hitting him." he points out in the end; they have walked in silence for a while, wandering aimlessly as they tacitly enjoyed each other's company, and Frerin wishes they could stay like that until dawn, but he does not want Verdandi to think he is a violent person, or someone used to solve his problems with his fists.

The Dwarf woman smiles. "Oh, I know. I did not do it to defend Norien from you, I know you only had to defend yourself." she says "But he is a stubborn Dwarf, no one knows it better than I do, and I was afraid he would try and attack you again, and the last thing I wanted was for him to have his face smashed simply because he could not give up."

Wanting to avoid unnecessary violence does her credit, Frerin thinks; still, he cannot help feeling disappointed. "You were worried for Norien, then?"

"Of course I was, since all it took you to knock him down was a punch; he is so stubborn he would keep fighting you until you had broken his face. Also, I was afraid master Virr would forbid all three from returning to the Axe; it is the only tavern in town that sells my favourite kind of beer."

"So you are not..?"

She turns to look at him. "I am not what?" she wonders, and Frerin knows it is childish, and asking will make him sound ridiculous, but he cannot help it; and if Verdandi points out the matter does not concern it, so be it...

"So you are not... interested in him?" he asks, doing his best to sound as if he were not really interested in an answer - and miserably failing, he realizes, given the way Verdandi is now looking at him.

"Mahal, no. We were friends as children, but I have never been interested in him and I never will be; he keeps asking to court me, or at least that I join him for dinner, but he does not understand that the more he insists, the less I could be inclined to accept. He even spoke to my mother and my sister, asking them to intercede for him. I am afraid he will never relents."

Frerin stops; he had not realized the situation was so serious, and he feels shame, because until now he has only looked at Verdandi's predicament from his point of view, because of his egotistical, ridiculous desires, but the thought of someone actually harassing her, maybe even putting her in danger, had never even touched him.

Oh, well. You were never good at considering other people's feelings when you wanted something for yourself, were you?

They are crossing the town square, close to the tailor and embroidery shop Verdandi's mother manages with the help of her two daughters. Frerin stops, forcing the Dwarf woman next to him (they are taking a walk together, something Frerin would have dearly wanted to invite her to do if only he were brave enough... and if he thought it could actually lead to something more than heartbreak) to do the same.

"And you are not concerned?" he asks, and Verdandi sighs, as if already tired with the conversation she must have had so many times already, but her expression softens as she looks at him; she has braided her hair once more, a single, large red plait falling on her back down to her buttocks.

"Fjalar, I am a Dwarf woman living with her mother and sister, without a brother or a father protecting them; I - we have been fighting men's unwelcome attentions ever since I remember. I know how to defend myself, and while I truly appreciate your intervention, I do not need other Dwarves fighting my battles."

Frerin knows, and this is why the whole matter is so worrisome; after leaving Erebor Dís was no stranger to pestering suitors, not to mention those wretched individuals who harassed her for the simple pleasure to humiliare her, but she at least had two brothers, not to mention various cousins (first of all Dwalin, who seemed to take any slight to the princess personally) to defend her. Verdandi, her mother and her sister have no one, and it is not hard to guess what they must have had to deal with: condescendence and arrogance at the very best, and outright persecution at the worst, all because many male Dwarves considered women a prize to win and a property to order around and decide for.

He wishes he could do something; that he could protect her, and her kingswomen, and make sure no harm comes to them. But why would he?, Frerin reflects with a sigh; he is not related to Verdandi, nor he is... important to her in any way, what gives him the right to assume responsibility for her security... especially given what he chose to do in the past, faced with the duties imposed on him by his princely role?

Verdandi is still looking at him, the calm and intense look of her azure eyes as always capable of making him forget his very name. Frerin sighs, frustrated, as he passes an hand in his hair.

"I know you can take care of yourself; truly, the last thing I want is to patronize you." he tries to reassure her; Mahal, is this the first time since their first meeting they are alone together? "But you are a maiden, unmarried, and not every Dwarf responds well to rejection. Some might even become violent, and I... I could not bear it if something were to happen to you."

That is the closest thing to a love declaration Frerin would be able to utter; he remains silent, his heart in his throat, waiting for a reaction... that is not quick in coming. Verdandi does not seem particularly impressed; she looks at him, her arms to her chest and a raised eyebrow, and then, slowly, a mischievous (Mahal!) smile appears on her lips.

"Do you know what I believe, Fjalar?" she asks in the end, a touch of coyness in her voice, moving a step towards him "That you did not intervene to defend me from Norien because he had made me uncomfortable; or rather, not only that. You also did it because you were jealous."

If Frerin felt his face burning after five hours bent on the anvil, it is nothing compared to what he is going through now. "Jealous? Me?"

"Exactly. Jealous that he had the courage to approach to court me, and you did not."

"I am not jealous of anyone." Frerin answers with all the dignity he has - that is to say, very little "And I do not lack courage, that is for sure."

Now Verdandi is openly smiling. "Oh, really?"

"Really. And I can prove it to you."

"And ho...?"

The Dwarf woman's question is blocked halfway when Frerin takes her face in his hands (strong, she reflexively realizes, calloused, but so gentle and delicate as they brush against her skin) and kisses her on the lips. It is a long kiss, passionate but sweet, and relaxed, to let them both savour the sweet moment they are living, unhurriedly as it deserves; Fjalar does not take advantage of their proximity to let his hands wander, even though he seems determined to never let her go. His kiss is passionate but not aggressive, almost worshipful in the way his lips caress hers; it is the sweetest kiss of her life, one that has Verdandi's body and heart shiver as she returns it, circling Frerin's shoulders with her arms, and presses herself against him, eliciting a moan out of his lips.

Verdandi is not, as claimed by a couple of rejected suitors, haughty, let alone frigid. Far from it, she is a young, healthy Dwarf woman, with all the desires of one, and even the dreams of a husband and a family, some day. She could have her pick of partners, like any Dwarf woman, but she has never have a lover, because she wants there to be no rumors or scandals about her name, not after everything her mother has done to raise her and her sister respectably... and because she wants her choice to matter, and to be more than a brief encounter to scratch an itch or a necessity to make all the other unmarried Dwarves relent. She dearly envies her sister, who has been in love with her intended ever since they were children and who has always been known to be out of the market.

Unfortunately, there is a Dwarf in whose presence it is literally impossible for Verdandi to remain prudent and demure, and that is Fjalar. She knows he is attracted to her, maybe even from that first meeting in the forge, but unlike what is customary for a Dwarf in his position, he has never come forward; he has walked next to her, keeping a polite distance so as not to risk accidentally touching her, he has walked her home in a couple of occasions, he has sat next to her at the tavern and has even danced with her, always after asking for permission - every single time, as if he could not see how happy and flattered Verdandi was when he looked for her, as if wanting to leave her the choice on how to live that sympathy between them. Verdandi could not help appreciating it, even though Fjalar is not the only Dwarf to have expressed his interest in a corteous manner.

Fjalar is handsome, with his dark blonde hair, his strong and proud (maybe too proud, his detractors say, as if he were a noble instead of a simple smith apprentice) figure, his kind and expressive eyes, the calloused hands that can be so delicate when handling a precious object or taking hers. He is clever, a hard worker, and he is kind - he really is, not simply when he is with her or because he wants to gain her sympathy. At times, he is pensive, melancholic, his eyes looking towards something he only can see, and that seems to fill his heart with sadness; there is pain in him, pain for something Verdandi does not know, like he does not know so much about him: where he comes from, what he did before arriving at Tharak Bazan, and why he is so loathe to speak about his past. All things considered, he is the image of someone who is running - from who or what, Verdandi has no idea (some terrible memory he is trying to leave behind? An enemy who wants to hurt him? Or he is the one who has committed a crime, and is now a fugitive from justice?) and logically this should make it impossible for the Dwarf woman to trust him, no matter how attracted she is to Fjalar, but she cannot help it: when she is with him, Verdandi feels safe. In peace.

Happy.

And now this. The whirlwind of emotions that Fjalar's hungry, skillful mouth has evoked in her is already about to overcome her, and Verdandi knows that even if they have been kissing for only a minute she is already on the brink, and soon she will not be able to stop, and even if it took her more thank a century she has finally found him, the Dwarf capable to make her throw away decency and caution and inflame her heart...

"Verdandi."

It is only the lack of air that forces Frerin to break the kiss; he is breathless, his face lit up from the heat - and more. He passes a hand in his hair, the image of a Dwarf conflicted between his desires and propriety, he reaches for her and then, with evident regret, he lets his hand fall. "Let us go." he says, lowering his eyes "I will walk you home."

Suddenly Verdandi feels cold, unjustifiably cold for a fall night. "Fjalar..."

"We should not have. I should not have."

"Why?" she insists, taking his hands in hers; she does it to give strenght to her words, and also because suddenly she fears he is going to slip away and disappear from her life, now that they have finally found each other "Do you have another woman somewhere? Are you married, by any chance?"

"Of course not. But..."

There is sadness in his smile; worse, there is helplessness, and despondency. "Verdandi, believe me, it is better this way. I have nothing to offer you; no money, no home, no prospects. I am a vagrant who wanders about Middle Earth and owns nothing but his hands to earn his living. You deserve..."

"If you tell me I deserve better I am going to punch you in the face, mark me." she interrupts him, suddenly furious "Do you really think I care? That what I want is luxuries or a title? I have been working to help my family ever since I was a little girl; I want nothing more than what I can earn. And you could have a house, Fjalar; you could have it with me, if you wished."

It is a daring proposal to make, especially for a woman and since they have not even started courting properly; but Verdandi has never been so sure of something like she is now: the Dwarf in front of her is her destiny, the partner the Maker has made for her, and she will let nothing and no one keep them apart. Not even Fjalar himself, not when she can see the love filling his eyes and the desperate desire to accept and return what she is offering.

Finally, their hands meet in the dark of the night. Frerin kisses the back of hers devotedly, wishing he could open his heart to her and share all of his secrets with the one who deserves it; but he cannot - worse, he dares not, because even after four decades since Azanulzibar one thing has not changed, and he is still a coward unable to admit the errors, and the shame, of his past.

"There is so much you still do not know about me..."

"You do not have to tell me anything." Verdandi quickly reassures him, and the trust and the acceptance in her azure eyes is so pure, so deep and complete, Frerin feels both grateful and unworthy "Whatever secret you will share, I will keep it; but your past is your own, Fjalar, if you let me share your future."

He nods, too happy and moved for words. "I am not proud of everything I have done; but I can swear to you, I am not a criminal, nor I have ever hurt anyone who was not already trying to hurt me." he says; at the very least she deserves to know she is not being courted by a thief or a killer "And I will never hurt you, and whatever decision we will have to take, we will take it together; I will do my best to make you happy, I promise."

She is happy already, Verdandi thinks, and she only needs to be with him to continue to be so; and because of this, when Frerin takes her face in his hands and kisses her forehead, sweet and loving but too chaste for her taste, she rests her hand on the back of his head to make their lips meet once more and "Can we to go to your room?" she asks.

Two hours later the two Dwarves are in Frerin's room, and in his bed, huddled together. They have made love twice already, first in a rush of passion, their clothes falling to the floor as their hands searched and found skin to caress and stimulate, and then slowly, holding each other as their bodies moved together and their breaths merged as one, learning the ways of pleasure. It was sweet, and intense, and clumsy, and absolutely perfect, and Frerin wishes dawn would never come.

"You are magnificent." he lovingly whispers; he is lying on his side, an arm around Verdandi's shoulders and his free hand playing with her hair (that hair; that beautiful, sensual mantle of garnet red, that he grabbed handfuls of while he worshiped her beautiful body) ad he looks at her, thinking he has never seen something more beautiful in his life.

Verdandi smiles; for the first time since Frerin has met her, she seems shy, uncertain - but not regretful, something he is deeply happy of. "I would like..." she begins, her voice betraying the slightest touch of insecurity "If you really wish for this to continue, I would like you to come and talk to my mother. You know, to... to reassure her your intentions are serious..."

Frerin smiles. "My intentions are very serious." he reassures her, and Verdandi happily hugs him once more; for the first time in so many years he is not thinking about his past - not about the loss of Erebor, nor about the death of his parents and grandfather, nor about the night he saw his brother for the last time. Tonight... tonight he is happy, and grateful, and excited as he imagines the future he and the Dwarf woman in his arms will build together.

"Thanks for what you have done." Verdandi whispers after a while; she has lowered her face to kiss Frerin's chest, making him shiver with every downward inch "I really appreciated you defending me from Norien."

He reassures her it was his pleasure. Before losing himself in the graces of the body of the Dwarf woman in his arms, Frerin thinks that in less than a week it will be the end of the year he had intended to spend in Tharak Bazan before starting his journey once more, and he has to speak to his landlady as soon as possible to tell her he intends to stay for a little more.

TAGGING @starlady66 and @elvenenby.

[researchgate]

Replied to this post

@banji-effect , please pay attention in first grade comprehension lessons because you completely miss the point, which is that gay men are not at all special in their treatment of the overturn, and signaling them out is fucking stupid when there are many other men who are not in the rubric "gay men" but who had advanced that overturn. Signaling out gay men in this regard is like signaling out one worker in a cooking pot factory for a damaged series of pots and causing harm to the buyers. The even better way to put is signaling out the mail delivery services, of the crockpot manufacturer. They sinply give and take mail, nothing beyond. When negligent manufacturing causes bodily harms, do we blame those whose job is to collect the envelopes and put them in the bag that goes to the post office? Sometimes they ARE to blame if they knowingly wish to harm the company and don't deliver mail that speaks of problems in the assembly line, but most of them do not, and and if they do not buy the company's pots, they couldn't care less about it, but it doesn't make them all responsible for the bodily harms caused by the crockpot line. If we mainly target them, we lay off the ones who make the decisions of what will be in the crockpot, and those responsible for assembling the crockpots without the important piece that makes these pots safe.

What I'm trying to say is, gay men are an unseparated part of patriarchy, work for it and in many cases, such as Chasten Butigieg, are extremely visibly privileged both by the patriarchy and despite of it. However, just as the mail delivery people are not the ones in control over most of the procedures in the pots factory, gay men are not all directly responsible for the harms caused by patriarchy. The mail delivery workers for the factory will be more concerned with their job once the negligence issue arises, and men, by nature of being privileged as males and having no fear of pregnancy, will always find something more concerning themselves than others.

Gay men, just like heterosexual ones, are males, they benefit from patriarchy and see themselves entitled to their rights and women as less entitled to their own rights, so they're no special and need not to be singled out. By that we 1. Serve the interests of the vast majority of straight men in control by directing the attention towards others and 2. We separate men from other men, which in itself is harmful because the dichotomy doesn't exist in males' misogyny. They're misogynistic regardless of sexuality. It is their offhanded approach that may be more distinct because they feel more entitled for precedents that benefit them than women are to their their basic human rights such as bodily autonomy, while heterosexual men have no precedents to be concern with, meaning they treat is offhandedly without having anything to be concerned with, which has their approach just as entitled as gay men's but without concern for a minor issue. I find the issue that Butigieg is most likely referring to as minor enough to be basically an inconvenience at best if overturned, and that's why I think that grouping him and other gay men like him in a different clump than males in general is harmful to a critique. It's not gay men, it's all men.

[justcourttee]

An Akuma shows up at school for a specific target in Mind: Bustier. Revealing the Akuma was an former student and wants retribution for her ‘teachings’ of being a ‘good example’ made a negative impact on their mental and emotional health. Mainly Bustier facing the consequences of her actions, and revealed a lot more have suffered. No class bashing, or salt. Except doing to Lila and Bustier

I like this prompt so much and I couldn’t wait to finish it! Hope it was close to what you imagined! 

Karma

Marinette paced the hallway outside the door of her classroom waiting for Mme. Bustier to meet her there for what she could guess would be yet another lecture on being the bigger person. It was so frustrating.

The sound of the door opening caught her attention as her teacher finally arrived, a small frown gracing her face.

“Now Marinette, I don’t understand what is going on between you and Lila, but you need to be the bigger person here like you always are. You know she has a disease and your outburst in class was unacceptable.”

“But Mme. Bustier! She was spreading lies about my friend! Adrien isn’t here to rebuttal for himself but I know he wouldn’t appreciate her lying about their relationship.”

Marinette crossed her arms in deviance only earning a dissatisfied headshake from her favorite teacher. Her heart sank a little at the idea that Bustier really meant for her to apologize to Lila yet again.

She didn’t even bother waiting for her response as she slunk back towards the door, already giving in before the argument could even begin. Her hand reached toward the handle only pausing when she heard a soft gasp from behind.

Marinette turned just in time to see a woman enveloped in the purple smoke that could only point to one thing. An akumanization.

“Mme. Bustier, let’s go.”

Marinette used all of her strength to pull her teacher out of her daze as they made a beeline down the stairs, away from the emerging victim. Without thinking, Marinette brought her phone to her ear, the number already dialing before her foot hit the ground level.

“Hey girl, what happened with Bustier? Are-”

“No time Alya, akuma outside the classroom, ring the alarm and lock the door, Bustier and I are going to be fine but help everyone else.”

She didn’t wait for a response as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. They were mere steps away from the lockers when a figure dropped in front of Marinette causing her to skid to a stop.

“Caline Bustier, I see you are still the same. Coddling the bully’s feelings and dropping all responsibility for their actions on innocent students.”

Bustier tried to shake her head, deny the accusation but she couldn't find her voice. The woman cocked her head at Marinette as if trying to decide if she was worth the trouble to get to the teacher. Deciding she wasn’t, she lowered what looked like a ribbon extending from her sleeve.

“Little girl, please go, be free. I will take care of Bustier, make sure she never hurts you again.”

Marinette shook her in disbelief as she stared at the woman with curiosity.

“She’s never laid a hand on me, I think you have the wrong person.”

Hearing Marinette’s voice snapped Bustier out of her trance as she attempted to push Marinette behind her and out of danger. The akuma’s face softened as she reached out to gingerly cup Marinette’s cheek.

“I too used to think she was an angel too. Someone sent down to protect me from everything bad in this world, but she’s not. She manipulates you into thinking it’s your fault that the Lila’s of this world exists.”

“That’s not true, Stephanie, please. Leave Marinette out of this. You had so much potential, I didn’t want to see you waste it by stooping down to their level-”

“Hush witch, it’s Professor Karma now.” Her voice was cold sending a shiver down Marinette’s back as she turned her attention back to the girl. “It makes you disappointed in not only her but yourself too. You begin to think you’re to blame for everyone incapable of change. Being the bigger person takes a mental toll, let me help ease that for you.”

Marinette hadn’t noticed the relief that had seeped through her body originating from the woman’s touch. It was so soothing, she just wanted to give in and let her take all the weight from her shoulders.

“Stay away from her!”

Marinette’s eyes flew back open as Chat Noir landed a blow onto the akuma in front of her.

“You ruined the process! You dumb hero! I could’ve taken all her pain away for her, but you just had to step in didn’t you.”

Chat Noir took a defensive stance between the akuma and Marinette.

“That’s not what it looked like to me. You were lulling her to sleep, her body was turning blue!”

Marinette looked down at her hands as the blue faded back to her normal pale color. Gods, what had she almost done? The fight needs Ladybug and she was about to give in to the akuma for what? A little bit of relief?

She sidestepped as the akuma slung its ribbons trying to bring Chat Noir down. Marinette wasn’t sure how much longer he could last by himself, but she couldn't leave Bustier by herself. She reached forward gripping Bustier's hand, startling the woman.

“C’mon Mme Bustier, we need to get you out of here.”

The teacher still seemed in a daze, a longing look in her eyes directed toward the akuma.

“Go Marinette, hide, please. I need to be here for Stephanie.”

Marinette wanted to protest, but this was her chance. She had a better chance of helping her as Ladybug than as Marinette. Without looking backward, she made a run for the exit, trying to ignore Chat’s taunting as he continued playing his dangerous game of cat and mouse.

“Tikki, was the akuma right? Am I really taking a toll from just Mme. Bustier’s words?”

“Marinette, you’ve always done so much for your class and for that woman. Eventually, it was going to catch up with you, especially when everyone expects nothing less than perfect. Nobody’s perfect, not even us Gods.”

Marinette called on her transformation, Tikki’s words ringing in her head. She knew Mme. Bustier only meant well, she wanted to push Marinette to be her very best on all levels including her personal life, but Tikki was right, she expected perfect Marinette everyday and she was never allowed to slip up even for a moment.

It was exhausting.

Marinette charged into the scene just in time to catch a limp Chat Noir, his skin completely blue. Her eyes widened as she nudged his cheek, trying to elicit any sort of reaction from him.

“What did you do to him?!”

The akuma’s smile was almost ghastly, nothing like the sweet and caring woman that had held Marinette only minutes earlier.

“I took all his pain from him. Now he will be in a peaceful sleep. You should be grateful, after all, he’ll never be hurt again.”

Marinette felt a heat rushing to her face as she tried to level her emotions. Gently laying him to the ground, Marinette placed a small kiss on her forehead, almost recoiling from how icy he felt.

“Now, it is your turn Caline.”

Before Marinette could move, the akuma's hand had already reached Bustier’s face

“Sleep is too peaceful for you. No, you Caline Bustier will turn on your own methods and finally punish those who deserve it.”

Marinette swung her yo-yo and the woman, trying to pull her teacher away, but it was useless. She watched as Bustier turned a warm shade of orange, her pupils enlarging until all that was left of her eye was a small patch of white in the corner.

“Gods, no.” Marinette raised her hand to her mouth in horror at her former teacher.

With a renewed fury, Marinette swung forward dodging the ribbons that seemed to move on their own.

“C’mon hero, shouldn’t you be for this idea! This woman breaks down the strong and raises the bullies on thrones, she deserves every minute of her punishment.”

Marinette cried out as her yo-yo finally made contact with a small locket sitting on the akuma’s chest. A small purple butterfly quickly flitted out but her yo-yo was quicker snatching it mid-air. As she released the butterfly, she ran back to where her partner laid, the color fading from his skin as he returned to a healthier shade.

Once she was sure he was going to be fine, Marinette walked over to the victim.

“Stephanie? Are you okay?”

She crouched to where the woman was sitting, her locket opened in her hand. Risking a peek, Marinette’s heart melted at the small phrase that it held inside.

“If we wish to change the world, we must all learn to love each other. It’s what she first told me when I entered her class all those years ago.”

Marinette risked a look over to where Bustier stood. The woman’s eyes were wide with concern as she fiddled with her sleeve. Offering a hand to Stephanie, Marinette helped her stand.

“You really hurt me Caline. Do you understand how much of a perfectionist I became? It was unhealthy. I lost jobs for taking too long on projects because I knew I couldn't turn in something that wasn’t example worthy. Do you know how many raises I missed out on because I took the high road and let my coworkers walk all over me, claiming my victories as their own?”

Bustier opened her mouth and closed it as if she was a gaping fish. Marinette slowly became conscious of the gathering crowd, all watching the exchange between the two women.

“Maybe-”

The woman held a hand to Marinette’s face as she marched forward, her own eyes watering in frustration.

“Did you know that I finally got a job on the school board? I was coming to observe your class, confident that you had realized your error by now, but then do you know what I overhear? You scolding another poor young girl like you did to me all those years ago. Do you know how many people you have hurt?”

Marinette took a step backward as she helped Chat Noir to his feet, both unsure how to handle the situation in front of them.

“What do we do my lady?”

“I’m not sure there’s much we can do.”

They watched as the color drained from Bustier’s face as Stephanie took a step forward. Her eyes narrowed in on the woman as she cleared her throat.

“Let’s make one thing clear here. I’ll return at a random date to do this observation and if I feel in the slightest way that the young woman I saw or anyone for that matter is falling victim to your abuse then I will see to it that you never teach again. Understood?”

Bustier simply nodded as the woman turned on her heel, exiting the building as chaos exploded. Marinette shared a look with Chat Noir as they both swung out of the school, trying to keep neutral faces.

It wasn’t the way they would’ve handled it, but maybe a little karma is what they needed to push for a change and neither could deny how ready they were for that.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss

[ethereal-blossom]

Hi, I could ask for scenarios and headcanons for dazai, chuuya, kunikida, akutagawa when they go on missions and their s / o stays home with their child. where the toddler gets a high fever. s / o is very unsettled, bombarding with phones but they don't answer. s / o is a wife, thank you very much☺️😌

a/n: oh, a mix between angst and fluff! i love it ❤ i hope you don’t mind that i split the request in two 🙈 i changed my scenario limit to two, because they take longer to make than headcanons. i decided to make an ada part and a pm part. i hope you enjoy part one🦋 part two

🚨warning(s): slight angst

masterlist

dazai: 0.9k+ | kunikida: 0.8k+

dazai could feel his heart beating in his throat, but not for the reason you would expect from a man who was the target of fire shots. kunikida and him being surrounded by armed men wasn't dazai's biggest concern in the slightest. instead, they were obstacles.

dazai's phone rang again for the fifteenth time in the last few minutes. he could feel it vibrating in his pocket, yet your phone calls had never been this much out of reach before.

it was a rare thing for dazai to feel distress during missions, but this was the exception. the image of his sick baby girl haunted his vision and dazai lowered his head. he had observed how tired his daughter looked before leaving: there was no doubt in his mind that you were calling him about your angel.

nevertheless, dazai had no choice but to go on the emergency mission after the president himself had called him. before he went, dazai had asked you to call him if things escalated. the only thing dazai desired at this very moment was to go home to his wife and daughter.

the bullets flying around his head weren't allowing it though.

the mission continued for another halve hour. that were thirty minutes filled with worry. the phone calls and the messages had stopped for now. however, dazai couldn't figure out if it was something to be relieved about or not. it was one of those peculiar moments in which dazai couldn't predict what had happened, mainly because of the white panic that blinded his mind.

kunikida opened his mouth to speak to his partner, but he changed his mind quickly after seeing the look on dazai's face. "what's wrong, dazai?"

"y/n tried to contact me." it was the only thing dazai could say at the moment. his phone was stuck to his right ear and your panicked voice made his heart go numb. announcing that he would leave immediately, dazai rushed back home to you and your daughter.

now it was his time to call you. 

___ 

dazai stopped before your house. he allowed himself for a few seconds to control his breath and then entered your house as the calmness itself.

it was a relief you had picked up the phone when dazai tried to reach you. only you would have sensed the panicked tone in dazai's voice, which is why you had immediately ensured him that everything was okay.

dazai followed your voice that came from the bedroom of your little monkey. the girl spotted her father straight away and called out his name. her opened arms welcomed the tender figure of her dad's body.

a sigh of relieve left your lips when you saw how tight dazai hugged your daughter. everything was okay. you looked at dazai who was kneeling in front of his daughter. his facial expression radiated calmness, but you could tell something was off. "how are you feeling, little monkey?" dazai asked his daughter.

"i was feeling really sick! but mommy took care of me," she replied and then she pouted. "i'm really tired though."

the next few minutes dazai was asking questions about what happened: which symptoms she experienced, how she was feeling now, what you did to lighten up the symptoms- he tried to remember everything what mori had told him about the human body and its illnesses. relieve washed over your husband once he realized that everything was indeed fine. "mommy is going to get a glass of water for you, okay?" dazai looked at you from the corner of his eyes. you responded with a nod and left the room.

dazai kissed his daughters hairline and she giggled. however, his lips tingled. a fever indeed. dazai cupped his daughter's burning cheeks and caressed her skin with his thumb. he looked her in the eyes, her mother's eyes. and she was just as strong. "you're doing so well, monkey."

when the little girl drank the water you had brought to her, her eyes slowly closed, a peaceful look painted on her small face.

"i'm sorry for bombarding your phone. i knew you were in an emergency, but... i was really worried about our sweetheart."

"there's no need to apologize, love. you handled the situation wonderful. i couldn't have been more proud of the both of you."

dazai grabbed your hand and the both of you watched over the little girl that had stolen your hearts. the troubled restlessness finally washed away with the sound of your daughter's soft breathing. nevertheless, the instinct to protect his family still lingered through dazai's whole body. "i should have predicted this. i should have taken action earlier."

you tightened your grip on his hand. “don’t be too harsh on yourself, dazai. you handled this situation wonderful. i couldn’t have been more proud of you.” 

dazai looked at you with his head slightly tilt. he couldn't help but smile. you had used his own words against him. how cruel, how smart, how touching. he paid attention to your calming orbs that had kept him grounded for as long as he had known you. dazai's lips were on yours in an instant. his lips moved tender yet intense against yours. the way he loved you...

surprisingly, it was dazai himself who broke of the kiss. he rested his forehead against yours. there was only one thought running through his mind at that specific moment: he would always protect the two most important women in his life, whatever it takes. 

the sun was standing at the top of the sky when kunikida looked at his perfect schedule.. well, it was supposed to be perfect. surprisingly, it wasn't dazai who was the cause of this ruination. the mission was supposed to be simple yet it had taken three hours and 35 minutes instead for the planned one hour and three seconds. this was a disaster. kunikida tried to control his breathing, tried to convince himself he could fix this tragedy. he grabbed his pen and started to mumble while organizing his chaotic schedule.

however, he was soon interrupted by his partner. "what, dazai? we are two hours and 40 minutes behind and if you don't....... HOW DID YOU GET MY PHONE?" kunikida was ready to waggle his way towards dazai, to steal his phone back and to show exactly how punchable dazai's face looked. would he lose precious time? yes. but he couldn't let this slide.

"ow, kunikida. where's the trust in the most trusted detective from the agency? besides, you dropped this during the mission." dazai's clown behavior disappeared like snow in the sun when he continued. "y/n tried to contact you multiple times. i think it's serious."

dazai blinked for a moment when his hand was suddenly empty. kunikida had to remind himself to breath, to not let the worry get to him. he had to keep his head cool. then why was his heart beating so painfully in his chest?

kunikida was sure he yelled something at dazai- probably that his partner should have mentioned this sooner - but he didn't have the time to care about anything else than the reason of your phone calls. were you and your son okay?

he listened to your voicemail, but it wasn't able to calm him down. in contrast, it was like oil thrown on fire.

his son had a high fever. kunikida's voice sounded on edge when he said: "you have to work without me today, dazai. my family needs me."

____

kunikida tried to reach you, but it was no use. you had sounded so panicked over the phone- it made him run faster. your husband stormed into the house, immediately asking where you were.

"i’m here." your raw voice came from the living room. kunikida was met with two of the most important people in his life lying on the couch. The redness from your eyes and cheeks told him that you had been sleeping. did that mean-? 

kunikida moved over to you as fast as he could and knelt down next. his sight focused on the toddler in your arms. he was still peacefully asleep. kunikida put a hand on his son's head, then a kiss and felt the hotness radiating from the touch. suddenly, your husband couldn’t wait any longer and asked every single question that was on his mind. 

“it’s okay, doppo. the fever decreased after i had tried to contact you. i gave him some medicine, water and i checked in on him multiple times. why didn’t you pick up your phone though? that’s nothing like you."

the rope that had cut into kunikida’s lungs finally loosened up. he started to explain how he lost his phone while his schedule was getting slowly ruined. "and this time it isn’t dazai to blame?" you joked. 

"i have to process it, too.” your husband had, without realizing it, been stroking the arm of his son with his thumb. you couldn't tell if he did it to comfort his son or himself. nevertheless, kunikida said shortly after that he would bring your son to bed.

you agreed and took the time alone as an opportunity to calm down and progress what had happened today. a sigh left your lungs. this was peaceful.... okay, too peaceful. how long is doppo taking?

you walked over to your little bean's bedroom, deciding to check out where the men you loved the most were hanging out. your heart practically melted when you entered the room.

kunikida was lying next to the small boy. however, when you looked closely, you were met with wide open grey eyes. experience told you that the haunted look on your husband's face wasn't caused by only the high fever of his beloved son. "what is bothering you, doppo?"

"my ideals. you tried to contact me when you needed me and i wasn't here. what would have happened if the fever didn't decrease? what if it has escalated and i wasn't here to be there for you and our son?"

 you grabbed his hand and kissed the top of each of his fingers. red blushes appeared on kunikida's cheeks and his eyes were now widened for different reasons. "then i would have handled it, with or without you. i know you had a tough day, love. i don’t blame you for anything. you shouldn’t do, too. i love you and you are here. that’s all that matters, right?” 

you grinned. oh, that color of red on kunikida's cheeks was definitely a new and deeper type of red. his love for you was overwhelming, and he couldn't wait to show you how much.

[thebountyfucker]

Cad Bane NSFW Alphabet

The format is from Din Djarin (SFW + NSFW 18+ Alphabet Combo) by ChicanaStardust

18+ ONLY - NSFW

Here's my masterpost

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Aftercare? What's aftercare? Cad is not an emotion-driven person. Aftercare for him would mainly include offering a towel to clean up and maybe offering his shower if you were especially messy. It would be quite rare for Cad to submit to cuddling.

B= Body part (What’s their favourite body part on themselves, and their partner?) Cad is not vain in that sense - he definitely enjoys strutting around and having people know how good he is. However, this vanity is driven by his skills rather than his looks. Cad couldn't give two shits about what his body looks like. (But take his hat and your a dead person) I think Cad's an ass man through and through.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically) Cad would cum anywhere he damn pleased - mostly face, chest, back, or ass. He would cum in his partner as well but that usually occurs when he and his partner don't have time to clean up. Duros' cum more than humans, but can only really orgasm once in a session.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) & Dirty secret (self-explanatory) Cad? Settling down? No. He'd either retire alone or be killed before he settled down with a partner and family. It's just not who he is. He can cook, but he is not great at it and he usually eats pre-made food. He can clean, but is often pretty busy. Cad's interest in Jango was more than rivalry based. They may have been involved before Jango's death.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Cad is experienced. He's a flirt, though not it a cute way - in a rather intimidating, 'this man has power' way. He's slept around a lot and as such, knows how to please a multitude of partners.

F = Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Cad does not commit to anything other than jobs, and even then he could be convinced to betray an employer for extra coin. He would also never marry.

G = Goofy (are they the serious type or more humorous?) Cad, goofy? No. He's very serious. He takes himself seriously, and his job seriously. He would likely find goofy partners annoying.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.) & Head (Giving and receiving) No hair, so no problem. He wouldn't care about hair on his partners, though if they had rather thick, coarse hair, it might be a bit irritating to him.

Cad doesn't mind head - giving or receiving. His fangs often turn off receivers, and he doesn't care enough to try to convince them otherwise. He'll accept a blow job if his partner is insistent but, again, doesn't care enough to try to convince a partner.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) & Intimacy (How intimate are they during sex?) Cad would not say 'I love you'. Also, there is little intimacy in his couplings.

J = (Jealousy and Jack off/Handjob combo) Cad is a jealous lover - but only if his partner tried flirting with his hunting rivals. Anyone else, he doesn't much care because he doesn't consider them a threat. Cad likes handjobs, especially in public settings. He also masturbates, but not often.

K = Kisses that lead into kinks (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed? What are one or more of their kinks?) If you could get Cad to agree to a kiss, he might, but it wouldn't be anything spectacular. Cad sees kissing as intimacy and he's not really down for that.

Cad would have a few kinks - exhibitionism, dom/sub, and biting are just a few of them.

L = Location (Favorite place to do the do.) Cad likes fucking on his ships, and in bars. But has nothing against fucking in his apartments.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) & Motivation (What gets them going?) Cad sleeps in when he can, but that is rare. His mornings are really dictated by his work schedule.

As for what gets him going, it's definitely touches - cock touches, specifically.

N = No (something that is a turn off? ) Cad would not mind being called 'daddy' but anything beyond that regarding a daddy kink is a no go. Also, anything that has to do with feelings.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Cad will not tell his partners anything about him. He's very closed off. It's not because he's trying to protect partners, it's because he doesn't trust people.

P = Pace (are they soft and sensual? Or are they rough and feral?) & PDA (are they open to displaying the relationship?) Cad is definitely more rough and feral - again, for him, sex is about pleasure, not connection. Slow and sensual would be very rare.

Cad's not opposed to PDA in terms of public sex but there would be absolutely no hand-holding, hugging, kissing, or the like.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Cad does not remember much about partners. He doesn't much care, either.

R = Risks (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?) Cad takes risks, but not carelessly. He thinks through the risks. He'll experiment, but won't go out of his way to suggest new things.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Cad's not protective as much as he is possessive. He might protect a partner, but not without getting something in return.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Little effort. Again, Cad isn't looking for companionship as much as he is looking for a quick fuck. He might buy clothes or kinky outfits, but that would probably be it.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease.) Cad does like to tease. He delights in seeing his partner squirm and beg for him. He is not fond of being on the receiving end, though.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) & Volume (Are they loud during sex?) Cad's not vain. As long as he has his hat, he's good. He's middle-of-the-road in terms of volume. He does dirty talk and moan and grunt, but he is not loud about it.

W = Whole/wildcard (What's a random headcanon for the character?) Cad likes fucking partners in the cockpits of his ships while going through hyperspace.

X = Xtra & X-Ray (Random Headcanon/ What’s Underneath those clothes) Cad is attracted to men too, and has just as much experience pleasing them as he does pleasing women.

Cad is thin-framed and rather scrawny. He's still quite strong, as he's able to lift targets up. His cock is long, with a pointed head and ridges along the sides of his shaft.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) Cad fucks, and he fucks often.

Z = Zzzzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) Cad sleeps pretty lightly, as he's used to having to wake up at the drop of a hat. He will sleep for eight, nine hours when it's permitted, but that's not typical. He can function well on a few hours of sleep.

[menalez]

Okay so first I KNOW that the following ask is very controversial but I’ve done a lot of thinking and reading and still haven’t found an explanation I’m satisfied with. So, I’m hoping that you as a WOC radfem/rad-adjacent will be able to both understand how I arrived at this question and also have a different perspective that could help resolve it.

Also, because I know the sort of opinions that have circled radblr (and everywhere else), a disclaimer: I know that society both globally and specifically in the USA and Europe is white supremacist. The societal structures are set up in such a way that white people benefit from certain institutions that POC are harmed by. This applies to both whites men and women, and even if a white person doesn’t participate in racist actions they still benefit from the structures surrounding them.

Now that I’ve hopefully proven that I’m not insane: reading anecdotes/analyses concerning the way men date outside of their racial category has left me with a question. So obviously we know that WOC are fetishized in different ways, but this analysis was pointing out the ways men (specially black men in the US, but I expect it applies outside of this) will pursue white women specifically bc they are white and they see it as a “win” against white supremacy. other similar issues concern them calling white woman “submissive” (at the expense of black women who are “too aggressive”) or in some cases committing rape as again a “win” against white supremacy. Obviously most of this boils down to misogyny (treating women like objects, rape culture, etc) and it also harms the women of their racial group (isolating black women so they feel “lucky” when they find a black partner, demonizing darker skinned women, also treating them as objects/undesirable objects, etc.). But my question: the fact that the women are white is the specific reason why they are targeted in this situation. Why would this not be considered a form of racism? (Or perhaps misogyny with racialized aspects would be a better way to put it?). I have no idea if my question or the premise makes sense, but I hope it does? Essentially this seems to be an instance of misogyny justified by racial othering? (Also an additional disclaimer that I’m obviously fine with interracial relationships, this is just a specific phenomenon that applies to specific situations)

first of all, thank you for the long disclaimer! i appreciate that you're simply asking a question and don't want me to take it the wrong way and i also sense that, after reading what you had written, that this isn't a bad-faith question. so i believe your disclaimer and i think without it, i would've still felt like you were coming from a genuine, rather than a racist, place.

to answer your question, the reason this is not considered a form of racism is mainly because it is not systemic. everything you have mentioned is very blatant misogyny, as you have said: they feel entitled to women, they view women as objects to use to make some sort of statement, and they're just using white women's whiteness as a way to make it seem like their misogyny is coming from a justified place. ive seen many many moc do this, they're trying to find an acceptable and justifiable way of expressing their misogyny and blame their misogyny on white supremacy. but ultimately, black men do not have racial privilege over white women, when they do & say this stuff, they are asserting their male privilege and their strength, while attempting to utilise their racial disprivilege to justify it. i don't think there's any person who genuinely believes raping a white woman is somehow a "win against white supremacy", i think thats just shit men say to justify being violent against women. as an example, lots of men claim they don't know that coercing a woman into sex after she had said no repeatedly would count as rape.........but i don't buy it. i think they know. the same way i think moc arguing that raping white women somehow combats white supremacy clearly know that brutalising women of any race will not somehow bring racial equality. you'll also find that many moc will say similar things about women outside of their race, asian women are a group typically subjected to this by men of various races & very often subject to this by white men. and ive noticed moc often will degrade & put down the women in their racial group, while fetishising another group of women. you'll see many black men will say similar things about non-black women as a whole, or even about mixed women. they just frame it somewhat differently in those cases, but ultimately the male entitlement and fetishistic attitude towards other women remains.

anyways, i don't think its racism, but i do think its 10000000000000% misogyny and i think its also fetishistic. a lot of it also seems to fetishise interracial relationships, and fetishises things like racism (think of the popularity of black men w white women in porn, for example) and Asserting Racial Dominance Via Rape (very male approach + also very prominent in porn). if anything i think a lot of it is also rooted in ideas that are essentially white supremacist as well, which sure places white women as the Most Superior group of women but ultimately white supremacy has always been white men first & white women come next, except not as people but as white men's property. so ofc some misogynistic moc like to tell themselves and others that they're somehow Winning against racism by violating white men's "property". ultimately they combat nothing, & in fact they reinforce such ideals, and this is just yet another excuse men make up to justify violating and abusing women.

[pomefioreundergroundlab]

Lore Here LH: I wanna make something clear here in regards to my post regarding about having a fem Yuu in a spinoff AU, about my comment to Drace. What I specifically meant is that I hope the female characters don't get fetishized in universe, I don't particularly care about IRL men fetishizing fictional women, but I prefer the girls being treated like normal people in fiction universe.

I hope you understand this Drace, I was too busy with laundry to answer properly. 

I get the whole Twst being a joseimuke game targeted mainly for women and to that they have the right to simp, even if at those times I'm uncomfortable with their way of simping (I used to be like that but I grew out of it). 

Then again, I quite understand the whole concern of the fandom if ever they were to include a female incarnate Yuu due to the whole Otome game misconception, but they aren't the ones who will decide if it'll work or not, only the devs will decide themselves. It would be refreshing to see a fem Yuu who isn't treated like a typical Otome Doormat MC cause we know how Game Yuu is, and some few of their incarnations had some similarities in them (Except for Yuuya, he's rather, too soft with a crippling anxiety, bruh I ship you with Idia. Yuuken is more rough but still compassionate, it's like seeing these incarnations reminds me how some of Game Yuu personality is, sometimes they're blunt and sassy, and times they're soft and kind, too kind to be in NRC) 

Pal, you were starting to scare me with the sending of so many asks ha ha /hj. If you have anxiety, same hat, I get those feelings of 'maybe I didn't express myself Right' quite often.

However, don't you think it's a little weird though, this thing you say, like: "The way real men fetishize fictional women is whatever", but then you say "the way real women fetishize fictional men makes me uncomfortable". I think this is potentially opening a whole other can of worms, but I would invite you to read that again. Are men allowed to "simp" however they want while women have to do it a certain way or they are "cringe"? If you think so, why? Men can have all kinds of figures and memorabilia and make fanwork and obsess over a female character they love, but women can't? I might be reading a bit too much into this, but this wording does bother me a little, yes; it's fair and valid if you feel uncomfortable about it for whatever reason, but the implication of if men do it then it's whatever, that's the thing I have an issue with.

And I say this as someone that get's very excited about characters but ain't out there buying merch and making shrines, but the prospect actually sounds kind of fun!

Also, with these kinds of franchises, it isn't only the devs that will have the last word: With gachas and franchises like these, they try something, if it sticks around and does numbers then the devs will let it be; if it doesn't, if it receives too much backlash, they will attempt to fix it or outright remove it and try to make people forget about it. Devs do care about the opinions of fans.

That all said, again, I don't particularly care much for Yuu, but I do think the idea of a legit well-built Female Yuu character would be an interesting topic to explore and it would be great to see what Yana can come up with for such a character!

~Mod Lag

I remember some asks ago you compare Sebek to a fanatical kpop fan, which, leads me to ask, did you have experience of being fanatical kpop fan? Y'know, the ones who would fight anyone who points out their biases' flaw, insist their biases are the best, fight other fanbases over small matters? Those kind of entitled fans that thinks their biases are their spouses? Those kind of "cringe" fans? Because it's fine, I also have that experience.

And do you think, men is less cringe than them? Oh man, you haven't seen the male idol wotas. They are not any less cringe. Like they will also delude themselves their bias is their gf irl, much like girls did. They will also throw hands if you say their favorite idol group is girlband because how dare you put their pure, cute waifu with those "fake ass plastics" (it's racist comment against south korean because of their use of plastic surgery) because for whatever reason if you like japanese stuff you must hate kpop stuff... Another cringe mindset of the fandom world, that you must choose one of japanese and korean fandom and hate the other.

If your... double standard, so to put it nicely, is because you are afraid that horny women who simp for anime men will be as cringe as those fanatical kpop fan, I can tell you as much, that even yume/self insert kind of people, even if they do self inserts, while still personally i still find that cringe, isn't as fanatical as the most fanatic of kpop fans. And we know not all kpop fans nor idol wotas are the most fanatic.

As much I personally don't like self insert, I think the problem is not which gender simps to which gender, but are they doing it moderately or fanatically , and whatever the case, fanatism was never good. That is the problem.

As I've said in other asks before, it's mean to objectify people. Again, it's really hypocritical that you demand more right for fictional women but deny real women of their right to be horny and voice their horny feeling/opinion.

-Mod Drace

[socialjusticeinamerica]

I post somewhat regularly about current trans issues and these articles get the lowest number of likes and reblogs of anything I put up. It’s almost like nobody cares. Things will never improve for anyone if we only concern ourselves with our own micro-causes. We’re waging a war for the soul of this country and we need to focus on the big picture. These attacks are increasing because of the sudden wave of trans-phobic hate inspired by Republikkkan state legislatures introducing a tidal wave of anti-trans bills.

If we don’t resist all the Republikkkan attacks we will be fractured and will be under the boot of another fascist Trump. One that is more zealous and competent. BLM is the tip of the iceberg. We must end the hatred of all marginalized people. We must stand up for people of color, all lgbt, undocumented and documented immigrants, religious minorities, atheist and agnostic minorities, the elderly, the poor, the disabled and chronically ill, the traumatized veterans, victims and families of gun violence, the disenfranchised, victims of police brutality, victims of minimum wage and wage theft, the homeless, those suffering from gender inequality, and so many more that aren’t listed.

You can nitpick this, ignore it, or continue to focus on just your cause. I’m hoping more people see the big picture and stand together to support all marginalized people and all social justice causes. Privilege isn’t always literal. For example just because many cops are racists and disproportionately shoot African-Americans doesn’t mean they don’t shoot white folk as well. They do and in shockingly large numbers, it’s a matter of percentages and perceptions. I support BLM 100% and you should as well, but remember, if the cops/racists/Republikkkans/corporations can get away with targeting one group today you can expect them to go after another next until you have a domino effect where nobody is safe, which many are already starting to realize.

It’s impossible to please or even placate all the tumblr communities, seems like someone is always disgruntled, offended, or disenchanted for whatever reason. Odds are if you’re reading this you have a sense of how the billionaire/corporate class is using the Republikkkans against nearly everything most of us stand for. They are a numerical minority and rely on a poorly educated, and mostly bigoted base, located mainly in the south but spreading into the southwest and lower Midwest. We’re only human and it’s natural for us to have some disagreements and dislikes but we’re mainly progressives and decent people. We must RESIST as a block and lookout for everyone. There is strength in unity. Billionaires have unlimited dark money and they fund hundreds of foundations which spread their message of corruption, hatred, and discrimination. They have purchased an entire political party and now have three cable propaganda outlets (Fox, OAN, & Newsmax). They own most of the talk radio stations in the country and buy huge blocks of time on most of the others. This is their gateway drug for radicalization of right-wingers. Thousands of internet sites bolster their message and hundreds of print and publishing outlets further their agenda. They spend billions per year to oppress us and have thousands of employees spreading propaganda and radicalizing recruits 24/7/365. Meanwhile the Dems have a handful of progressive politicians begging for grass roots donations.

BOTH parties are not the same. The Republikkkans are a well oiled machine with unlimited resources, tens of thousands of worker bees, and cutting edge technology. They have hundreds of lawyers and academics working in far right think tanks to write state and federal legislation for their minions to pass to disenfranchise and oppress us. The Dems are the proverbial blind men feeling the elephant. They are completely lacking a national structure and cohesive agenda. As a whole they are working for us but are years behind in structure and funding.

We are the numerical majority! We must resist at every level and every opportunity and we must do it together. We must protect the small number of trans, force an end to the police violence that plagues the African-American community, and show the same zeal for ending the epidemic of gun violence that could take anyone of us at anytime. If we can bring the same mass participation enthusiasm we have for some causes to all causes we can prevail and have the modern progressive nation we deserve. I’m not trying to be preachy, self-righteous, or a common know-it-all. We have the numbers and the momentum. Let’s use it. Ousting Trump was only the beginning. The Republikkkan empire is striking back hard and historically the party that loses the White House tends to take the Congress in the mid-terms. Do you want to lose our power to Mitch McConnell, Kevin McCarthy, and all their heinous minions?

[arethereanyoriginalusernames]

Clairisse Redesign

Hey, as you can see, Clairisse got a bit of an upgrade. I’ve also reworked her story quite a bit.

If you’re interested in learning about this punk angel, feel free to keep reading under the cut.

Before we talk about Clairisse’s backstory, I should explain what angels are in this universe

Angels, like demons, are morally grey, immortal creatures. They are neither good nor bad, and they don’t concern themselves much with mortal creatures outside of work. The general view angels have of mortals is basically that they’re just things that exist, and then die. And that’s it. It’s a sort of unattached, matter of fact way of viewing the world.

In terms of work, angels are like lawyers. While demons hunt down and punish sinners, angels can actually step in and prevent someone from being taken to hell. Usually, this is by given them some sort of task or quest that gives them a shot at redemption. If they succeed, they’re forgiven. If not, down to hell you go. It’s a bit like a plea bargain, except a little more extreme.

Angels are raised in what’s basically heaven, and are kept in a restrictive, specific way of life. So, white robes, being these “pure figures of hope”, yadda yadda yadda. Once they reach a certain age, they’re allowed to go to Earth and do whatever the fuck they want. Some stick with the white robes and purity thing, but most go “alright, how ‘un-pure’ can we make ourselves?”This is because being an angel is really boring. They don’t seek people out to redeem them. People have to seek them out. And since angels are always just sitting around waiting for a job, they have to find some way to occupy themselves. They’re also allowed to choose their names. It works like this: “hey, I know we’ve always called you Bob so that we have something to call you, but hey, if you’re feeling more like a Maurice or a Karen, you go for it.” So a lot of angels have pretty... unique names. In Clairisse’s case, she got stuck between “Claire” and “Reese”, so she decided “Fuck it”, and smooshed them together.

Clairisse was also born with larger, white wings, but had them replaced. Bc yes, angels can do that. Her original wings were too large and just gave her back pain, and when the doctor asked what new wings she wanted, she decided “Give me black and glitter.” (I didn’t draw the glitter in the image above bc... look, I’m lazy, ok?)

Clairisse has always had an appreciation for edgy music, and a hatred for traditional music. Playing an piece of organ music is a sure fire way to get on her bad side, as she’s had to listen to that shit so much growing up that she can no longer stand it. She quickly grew attached to rock music as it was first emerging, and developed an appreciation for the edgier aesthetic brought about by the 90s rock scene. Mainly due to how exciting it all was, seeing people lash out against the system, starting scandals, bringing on a revolution.

She’s had several crushes on women in rock, but never acted on them as hey, they’re mortal, they’ll die anyways. She still nonetheless went to as many concerts as possible, both to watch performances and collect merchandise so she’d have memorabilia of these moments in time. Her biggest crush, however, was on Jadis, back when Jadis was a massive figure in the grunge/rock scene.

Jadis was attractive to many, Clairisse included. She had many songs about having sex or seducing people, which Clairisse already found pretty enjoyable. But then it was revealed that Jadis was a lesbian, which gave a bit of a different context to those songs, and Clairisse loved them. Not only was this new at the time, and rather scandalous, it made Clairisse’s pre-existing crush on Jadis develop further. She even started to miniature covers in her bedroom for fun.

Then Jadis was killed and revealed to be a serial killer, who targeted people high in the industry who were screwing over those with less power. Being an angel with the previously mentioned view on mortals, Clairisse wasn’t broken by this, but was disappointed to see Jadis meet an unfavourable end, and leave a legacy that would make her universally hated. Sure enough, Jadis’ music was quickly pulled from store shelves and radio stations, and her music could only be sold on the black market. Clairisse still kept her memorabilia of Jadis, and continued to listen to her work. She ended up researching Jadis’ life, as she was fascinated by what led to the musician’s actions. Again, with her view about mortal life, she wasn’t as concerned about Jadis killing people as most would be.

Five years after Jadis’ death, Clairisse had been performing at bars for fun, usually doing covers of songs she liked. Jadis had faded from public memory thanks to the media’s erasure of her existence, and Clairisse didn’t encounter any issues preforming covers of her songs.

Then, one night, she came across the last person she expected. She had sensed a demon nearby, and upon approaching to see who it was, to her shock, it was Jadis. Jadis had been resurrected as a demon, cursed with a life where she could see how little her actions did to change things, and how her life had been ultimately pointless. Meeting someone like Clairisse, who still remembered her, was a surprise.

The two started hanging out, preforming together at bars where nobody recognized Jadis. They didn’t develop a romantic relationship for a while however. Since the abuse and murder of Jadis’ girlfriend was what initially sent her on her killing spree, Jadis was hesitant to start a new relationship. With how she “failed” her love, she felt that it wouldn’t be justifiable to begin a new relationship.

However, both Jadis and Clairisse shared a feeling of being bored by the world around them. Clairisse was down for anything remotely exciting, and Jadis, rapidly developing a strong sense of nihilism, stopped seeing how it’d matter for the two to be an item.

What started out as them just living the old lifestyle of rockstars (booze, drugs, sex), however, started to develop into something more. Their relationship had initially been based on finding each other sexy, but as they would have deep discussions together late into the night, they both developed a strong, mutual appreciation for each other. For Clairisse, Jadis was someone who failed to change the world, who saw the ugliest parts of life, and who ironically helped her see the purpose and beauty of the small positives. For Jadis, Clairisse was a ray of light in an uncaring world, the one gift life had actually given her after years of being fucked over, someone irreplaceable and who she couldn’t exist without.

Their relationship is unexpected to those who know them, but, despite who the characters are, they ironically have one of the most stable relationships in the story. The two click, and give each other something to look forward to in life.

Personality wise, Clairisse is usually reserved and doesn’t talk much to people. When she does, she tends to be brash, and comes off as polarizing. She acts as though she has very little patience, and is always preoccupied with something. She exudes an air of confidence when preforming, and is very quick witted. She does now when to act more understanding to others, and it’s here that she shows that she’s very mature and intelligent. She loves speculating on topics and discussing uncertain things with others. She’s also an undeniable lover of gossip and conspiracies.

Power wise, she, like all angels, has cleric like powers, and is capable of creating miniature, separate dimensions that exist for a period of time. She also has the power to bless those with forgiveness, a blessing that protects them from demons

[ghostonly]

I feel like a lot of binary trans people have a real issue with being trans instead of the cis version of their gender. I notice this in the way they get very upset when separated from cis people in situations where they really should be (I'm mainly talking statistics and scientific studies here, not discriminatory social situations).

For example, if a group of scientists are doing a study based on "Male vs. Female Reactions to Stress" or something like that, the importance is not actually in the words male and female. They title it as such, but in a cisnormative society, what they're really studying is the difference in reactions between a testosterone-affected body and an estrogen-affected one. If the study is for adult participants only, a bunch of adult trans men, who are pre-t or in its early stages, joining the men's side would hugely sway the results, because they haven't been under the effects of t for as long as a cis adult male. Or, if the study is a social one, to figure out how society has trained us to handle stress, our experiences as trans people will affect the results as well. Not only will spending your formative years thinking you are/being perceived as the opposite gender to the one you actually are affect your results, your experience being out and perceived as trans and dealing with trans rights issues and social issues will also vastly affect the results.

And I know what some of you are thinking: it doesn't matter if binary trans people have different experiences than cis men and women, they're still the gender they identify as and should be included in the study. You may have a point, but consider this:

Spiders Georg was an outlier and should not have been counted.

Yes, there are a lot of trans people, but not enough that we aren't outliers. If someone is not exactly the intended target of a study, them being in the study will skew the results. For the same reason, people with mobility disabilities are excluded from studies about fitness. A study about fitness is looking at the average abled person, not just People in General. They just don't say that in the title of the study because that's unnecessary and rude when it's something you can read in the subject criteria. Does that mean trans people should just be excluded from studies in general? Of course not! Any study that isn't directly related to gendered or hormonal experiences should include trans people. Exclusion where it makes no difference is discriminatory and shitty, obviously.

The real point of my opening statement though, is this: why are binary trans people so upset about not being treated exactly as if they're cis in every scenario imaginable?

Trans men are real men and trans women are real women, but that doesn't mean their experiences are the same as their cis counterparts. Quite the opposite. Binary trans people have a very very different experience than their cis counterparts. That's kind of the whole point, isn't it? We're not cis. We've had to discover ourselves and fight for our right to just be us.

The thing is, binary trans people, largely, seem to think that if they're not grouped with cis people in every scenario, they're being hatecrimed. But, in many scientific situations, it's appropriate to separate the groups, because of those different experiences affecting how our lives have gone or how we perceive things. And if you think that that's an issue, there's one of two things going on: you're either ashamed of being trans, or you're afraid of what it will make transphobes think if we allow ourselves to be distinguished as a group separate from cisgender people.

Those two options aren't all that different, actually.

Here's the thing: you don't need to be cis to be proud of the man or woman you are. You don't need to be cis for your gender to be real and valid. You don't need to be told you're the same as cis people to finally reach validity. Your goal isn't to become indistinguishable from cis people - or it shouldn't be. Because even if you pass to the eye, your experiences would never pass. You are trans. And that's great. Allowing ourselves to stand tall and proud in a separate group from cisgender people doesn't mean that binary trans people aren't properly men or women. It just means that our journey in relation to that may have affected things.

And finally, if you're concerned about how allowing ourselves to occasionally stand separate from cis people will look to the transphobes - if you're worried it will give them ammunition or somehow prove to them that you're not a real man or woman - you're forgetting something vital: transphobes will find justifications for their beliefs no matter what we do.

The things they see don't affect their beliefs, their beliefs affect how they perceive what they see.

[nothorses]

sorry if this is dumping in your inbox, but I've seen your post abt trans men and transmasc's and thought it was okay to come here for support but anyways the whole men are trash argument has really taken a toll on me and it just feels like a losing battle if I complain openly abt it bc (mainly women) will shit on me then remind me again I have no right to complain etc and its.... exhausting..... trans men hardly get support from non trans men and conveniently the only time I do see "support" is ppl saying trans men are included w the trash statement. sorry this is rambling lol I'm just tired of trans men getting shit on online then no one caring at all when they should. if you have any advice on how I can cope that'd be great, it just sucks that I Have to just "shut up" abt my feelings basically :/ I hope you have a great day, again sorry if this is a lot

You’re super valid! It’s a really exhausting trend, and I see it a lot on tumblr and twitter both lately.

It like... genuinely concerns me to see so many people encouraging the hatred of trans men, or even just encouraging folks to forget about, ignore, and de-prioritize us in trans activism. Transmascs’ struggles as a group are with invisibility and lack of support as is, and this has a real, tangible impact on our ability to even realize we’re trans in the first place, let alone accept ourselves for it, come out, and gain resources when we need them. Trans men are consciously targeted by certain abusers and abusive groups because of this- TERFs especially!- and we need to counteract that with support from our own communities.

It isn’t misgendering us to acknowledge our experiences as trans people, and the fact that people use this as an excuse to silence our voices in conversations about things that impact us is... truly exhausting.

I’m seeing more and more folks talk about it lately, though, and I hope that trend continues. Transmasc voices are invaluable in trans activism, and in all conversations around gender-based oppression, and it’s time folks start seeing that. 

And like! non-masc nonbinary folks and transfemmes are our allies in this for sure; there are some wonderful people who have spoken up about this problem that aren’t also transmasc, and I’ve reblogged from some of them in my #transmasc tag, too. I hope you’re doing well, too <3