#but people are treating it as “woman-lite” and “man-lite”

[fabulouslygaybean]

i reeeaaaally hate how the trans community has circled back to perpetuating yet another gender binary with afab/amab. it's like we've done a 180 and all of a sudden trans people are basing their opinions of other trans people on their fucking genitals, just like transphobic cis folk do but in a different, more "progressive" flavor

[the-goopy-gaymer]

UTDR fans don't be weird about the genders of the humans challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)

[my-chemical-rot]

Full offense but if you ever refer to me by my sex assigned at birth in any capacity, that is misgendering and I will murder you to death with hammers

[kallista-diune]

Suprise... - part 1

Words count - 1319

OC name is Via, sorry I can't force myself yet to change habits 😅 White hair are specific for a reason, but you can imagine the rest of her appearance as you like.

My first concept changed a lite since the Imagine blurb. Second part won't be fast unfortunately, sorry :( I'm still learning to write stories in English, it probably would be much longer and faster if I was writing in my native language.

_______

Mae just stormed out from the abandoned house which was currently their hideout on the planet Kiros. Nice, quiet forests, safe lakes, small cities. The door slammed behind her, making the two other remaining people flinch. White haired woman looked over at her partner with annoyance in her eyes. 

“I swear, if the Master wouldn't punish me later, I would smack her head with anything heavy…” She said and the man chuckled.

“She's young and rebellious. She likes to think we are beneath her, less important. I’m used to it and just continue to do my job. 

“Maybe. But I really don't like how she is treating you, Qimir. You are such an intelligent man, without you she wouldn't even know where to go or look.”

“Without us Snowflake.” Qimir pointed at her. Again with that nickname… Via tried very hard not to show how much his little nicknames messed with her heart. “Don't forget that your connection to nature in the Force is very helpful for her, me and our Master. We are both important to him.”

“I'm trying to really believe him when he praises me… But… never mind. We should get to sleep. She exhausted me…”

“He never praises without meaning it. You know how he is.” Qimir offered her a warm smile. “But yeah we should hit the pillow. I guess you're sleeping next to the wall?”

“Yes, mister radiator. Have I ever mentioned that I would freeze long ago without you?” Via laughed and got up from the floor. 

“Every time we go somewhere where it's cold at night. “ Qimir playfully rolled his eyes and followed her to their shared makeshift bed. 

They didn't even bother to change, always ready to run if something would happen. Via took her place and a moment after Qimir was laying beside her, his back facing her front. Always respectful. At least at the beginning… Throughout the night, he was often changing positions, sometimes ending up cuddling her. Usually when the night was really cold. Via didn't know if it was for his own need of heat or somehow he sensed her shiver. Her home planet was hot and humid which was the reason why she was even less resistant to low temperatures.

 It was such a good thing their Master knew or probably sensed through the Force her struggles, and he always gave her additional covers when she was sleeping on his island while training. Who knew he actually had at least a string of compassion in him. 

Qimir on the other hand was just sweet and caring, but he couldn't know what those little hugs were doing to her. She was hiding her feelings for so long… Despite his somewhat unkempt appearance, he was a handsome man. His smile brightens up any blue day and her heart skipped a beat every time. His little playful head tilts accompanied with his signature single brow raise without a fail made her laugh every time. He liked to watch her braid her hair into a crown-like style around her head, sometimes helping if her hands were too stiff from the cold. She welcomed his closeness every time, trying so hard not to show her excitement. If he was hinting to her he was in fact interested in her, she was oblivious. Her mind was somewhat clouded with fear. Fear of being rejected or scolded by their Master for creating a relationship among his subjects. 

This night was a nightmare. It was getting colder and colder, wind bringing unpleasant waves and Via was not able to fall asleep. She tried very hard to resist and not do something stupid, but her resolve was weakening every passing minute.

“Get your shit together Via… He won’t be mad…” and with that thought she turned, now facing Qimir. He was currently laying on his back, one hand under his head making a perfect opening for her to snuggle closer. So she did. Her heart beating wildly in her chest as the only option was to lay her head on his arm. The moment she does that he stirred awake.

“Hey, what is… oh Maker you are freezing! Come here, poor thing.” Qimir pulled her close, maneuvering her so her head was on his warm chest, her whole body pressed with his. His next move made her heart race as he grabbed the back of her thigh and placed her leg between his. His hands held her tightly, rubbing along her back to warm her up faster. 

“I’m s…sorry…”

“Don’t be. It’s okay, I got you Sweetheart.” Qimir kissed her forehead, making her blush and she was hardly able to hold in a gasp. His heat engulfed her, making her slightly relax and finally feel drowsiness. 

What she couldn't see was Qimirs signature satisfied half smirk…

_______

“You did good on the last mission, both of you.” The Master spoke, tilting his helmet clad head a little. “Via, go prepare for training, I will discuss Maes new mission. This time you will go alone. Qimir won't accompany you either. This time you will handle things by yourself.”

Via bowed her head and turned to go back to the ship. She couldn't help but smile mischievously, happy that Mae would finally experience doing something without their help. She entered the ship and quickly changed as well as gathered her things knowing she will probably stay here for quite some time. When she was going down the ramp, she saw that Master was nowhere to be seen, but she spotted a very angry looking Mae heading her way. 

“What did you two tell him huh?” she stopped less than an arm length before Via.

“What do you mean? I haven’t spoken with the Master until we arrived here.”

“Don't lie to me! Why is he sending me off alone this time then?”

Something snapped inside Via and she venomously responded.

“Suddenly afraid you are not up to the task on your own, Mae? 

“Listen here you little shit. You are useless. Week in the Force. Master is taking pity or keeping you for Qimir to fuck when he is bored. I don’t need you.” With that she passed her hitting Via's shoulder angrily with hers. Via held her ground, guarding her thoughts tightly as she walked away from the ship. Mae quickly fired up the ship and started to take off. Only when Via was sure Mae was at a safe distance, her composure dropped. Her knees gave up and she fell on the soft sand. Her eyes watered as her body shook in a silent cry. 

Mae was right, she was useless and weak. She never believed in herself even if the Master and Qimir were telling her they needed her and she was wanted. 

Suddenly warm strong arms engulfed her body. She was so deep in her head she didn’t even feel her Master's appearance. He pulled her into his lap, cradling her head to the crook of his neck, rubbing lightly her hair and back. She felt even more bad about herself. She tried to pull away in a desperate attempt to save her dignity but he held her firmly in place. 

“I am here for you, my Angel. Cry. Let it all out.”

“I…I’m… use…useless M…Master…” Via cried out.

“No. It is a lie you accepted. You know me well enough to know I wouldn't be here right now with you if I shared her opinion.” His voice was gentle, he only ever had that tone with her. After a deep consideration of his words Via slowly nodded against his neck. His embrace felt somehow familiar, the heat of his body, his smell. She felt safe. 

“Thank you, Master.” She managed to say clearly and she dared to put her arms around him as well. She couldn't tell how long he held her in his arms, but his hold never lessened. 

_______

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 6. The Adults are Talking

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: Sugar finds her voice amongst the people who want to see her fail.

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Breeding kink, Sugar's parents are the worst and treat her like garbage, Sugar finally finds her voice and stands up to her father, Some angst, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 5.3K

A/N: And here we go, the chapter where Sugar and Joel finally face off with her parents. This does edge onto angst, as I really wanted to showcase just how Sugar's upbringing really affected her mental health, and how she overcomes it. I cried writing this chapter, because I know how it feels to have people in your life just waiting for you to fuck up, and it's something Sugar has had to deal with all of her life. Honestly, this chapter makes me nervous because I know you all are expecting all of the fluff and smut that Joel and Sugar should be having, but I promise this will probably be the only chapter with heavy stuff. It'll be smooth sailing after this!

"So, I heard an interesting rumor floating around the club lately."

"Good morning to you too, Mother," you mutter, keeping your eyes on the road. "Who's the poor unfortunate soul this time?"

There's a brief pause before your mom responds, her voice almost hesitant. "Well, darling, you know I usually don't pay attention to the ladies and their gossip, but-"

"Just tell me already, Mom!" you exclaim, turning into the office parking lot.

"Well," she starts, "I heard that Joel Miller has gotten himself a... what do you call them? A Sugar Baby? Marcia told me that Lenore from Neiman Marcus said they had-" she clears her throat, "sex," she whispers, "in the dressing room! How scandalous! I heard she's a pretty little young thing! I swear, if that was my daughter, I would die of embarrassment!"

You slam on the brakes suddenly, your eyes widening in shock. Someone honks behind you in response, but you can't pay it any mind. The blood rushes to your ears as you start to hyperventilate.

"Sugar? Are you there? Is it true? Have you noticed anything at work lately?" you hear your mother from across the line. "Hello?!"

You take a deep breath, pulling into the nearest empty stall. "I'm here, Mom," you say shakily, cutting the ignition and resting your head on the steering wheel.  

"Well, it's shameful, that sort of behavior," your mom continues, "It's a good thing your father and I raised you right!" she tsks, and you imagine her shaking her head in disgust as she inspects her nails. "Besides, I have nothing to worry about when it comes to you, baby."

That's what gets your attention. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, baby. That kind of behavior isn't something I would associate with you," she coos, "besides, the girl they said Joel was with was really pretty-"

"Are you implying that I'm not attractive enough for someone like Joel?" you ask incredulously, your hands gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. "What if that girl in the rumor was me, Mom? What then? Would you actually die from embarrassment?"

"... but it wasn't you, Sugar. I raised you better than that, no matter how pretty you could be. I mean, if you just weren't so plain, maybe I would believe that it was you that was in that dressing room with him, but those kinds of girls, baby, that ain't you-"

"Mom," you sigh, feeling the impending headache that usually accompanies conversations with her, "I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!" your mom sputters, "Don't forget about the dinner tonight!"

"What dinner?"

"Oh, don't tell me you forgot!" your mother exclaims, a hint of outrage in her voice. "It's our Ruby wedding anniversary! I sent you an invite. How could you forget? Your father is looking forward to seeing you. Now that you have your big girl job and live on your own, acting like we don't exist. You would think after paying for your education, you would be more grateful-"

"Fine, Mom, I'll be there! What time is it?" you cut her off, the tears already forming at the corner of your eyes. You don't want to be subjected to another one of her guilt trips, fully aware that she'll win, every time. "And I assume it'll be cocktail attire?"

"Oh, yes," your mother purrs, "At 6. I'll make sure the caterers add a place setting for you. Do you need to borrow anything of mine to wear? I'm not sure if you were able to shed those ten pounds I've been telling you to lose. I don't know if anything I have would fit those hips of yours-"

"Two."

"What was that, darling?" you take note of the hesitation in your mother's voice.

"Tell the caterers to put two more settings at the table, Mom."

"Why?" your mother asks, clearly in shock. "Sugar, are you seeing someone? Who is it? Is it someone we know?"

"I guess you'll have to wait to find out," you say, a hint of satisfaction in your tone. "See you at 6!" you say hurriedly, hanging up before she could pry further.  

"Fuck." You mutter, slamming your head against the steering wheel once more. "Fuck my life."

Groaning, you snatch up your phone and purse, slamming the door of your Tesla as you stride into the office. With a determined look etched on your face, you attempt to breeze past Connie, resolute in avoiding another interrogation as you navigate down the hall.

"Good morning, Sugar!" she chirps. "So, about yesterday-"

"Not now, Connie!" you mutter, briskly pushing past her, laser-focused on reaching Joel's office. He's already at his desk, his gaze intensely fixed on his iPad, an apple pencil dangling from his mouth as he reviews schematics. You slam his office door behind you, his eyes darting toward you as you drop your purse on the floor. You discard your blazer, shove his office chair back, and settle onto his lap. Burying your face into his neck, the tears you've been holding back start to flow earnestly from your eyes.

Joel's arms instinctively wrap around you, drawing you close as he gently pulls back to get a good look at your face. "Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" he asks, his face etched with genuine concern. "Did Connie corner you in the lounge again? I swear Tess gave her the warning of a lifetime yesterday-"

"Are you busy tonight?" you cut him off, gasping for air, the weight of anxiety from your mother's conversation finally sinking in. "I know this is really last minute, but my mother-"

"Baby," Joel repeats, his hands firm on your arms, steadying you. "Breathe. What happened?"

"They know, everyone in Austin knows about us," you admit with a sniffle. "My mother called, mentioning that her friends at the club were gossiping about you having a sugar baby, and I completely forgot it's my parents' wedding anniversary tonight. I might have told her to add another place setting for you..." you stammer, "... and now I have nothing to wear. I can't borrow anything from her because I didn't lose the ten pounds she asked me to"

"Easy, Sugar," Joel murmurs, his lips grazing your forehead as his hands trace up your arms, providing a soothing touch. "Start from the top," he suggests, leaning back in his chair and gently pulling you against his chest, his fingers rhythmically rubbing your back. "You spoke to your mother today, and she mentioned a rumor going around about us, right?"

"Lenore might have let slip to one of her clients about our... moment in the dressing room," you confess against his chest.

You feel him sigh deeply, the gentle rumble of his chest against your face. "If they only knew that wasn't the case," he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. "You know that, right? You're everything to me, baby. You ain't no sugar baby, not to me."

"I know, Joel," you reply with a tiny sob. "It doesn't mean it hurts any less, though. It's like they want to see us fail, see me fail."

Joel pulls you away again, a serious look in his eyes. "Are you ashamed of this? of us? Do you see yourself as how they see you? Do you think I care what those old bitches say about me?"

You shake your head frantically. "No, Joel-"

"No one gave a damn about my life before all of this," he gestures toward his office, taking your hand in his, "and now that I finally have some worth in their eyes, it's like... I'm cattle being led to slaughter. I'll never get used to it."

"I grew up surrounded by that shit my entire life," you whisper sadly. "Every move I made was up for debate – what clothes I wore, who I decided to bring into my life. It was always dissected and analyzed as if everything I did could have a double meaning. I hated it, this constant scrutiny. I always had to be 'good,' never step out of line, and always know my place."

"Is that why you always felt the need to hide yourself all the time?"

"It's what made things easier, honestly." You fiddle with the button of his flannel. "I hated the attention, I hated that my mother would go into my closet every day and make sure I wore certain things that wouldn't embarrass her, that she would only feed me rabbit food so I wouldn't 'let myself go'. She came from nothing, you know? She was my father's secretary, getting swept away with his money and his connections. She was in my place, once. You would think that she would show me mercy." You laugh to yourself, bitterly. "I was always an embarrassment in my parent's eyes, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not driven enough. I worked my ass off, and they still treat me like they did when I was a kid. "

"Yet, here we are," Joel murmurs, a gentle understanding in his eyes as he reaches to caress your cheek. "You've overcome so much, and you're not defined by their standards. You're your own person, and you've earned your worth on your own terms."

You lean into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of his hand. "I never thought I'd find someone who sees past all that, someone who appreciates me for who I am. Crazy family and all."

Joel smiles tenderly. "Well, you have, and I see a remarkable person in front of me. The past is just that – the past. We're building our own story now, and you're not defined by anyone else's expectations."

You smile sadly at Joel. "I hate thinking about this, about my parents. It always puts me in a terrible mood. Can we talk about something else, please?"

"What do you need me to do, baby?" Joel breathes, "Do you want me to help you forget?" He helps you onto your feet, leaning your body against the edge of his desk. He pushes the hem of your dress up your thighs, the edge of your stockings being held by a garter exposed as your breath hitches on your throat. "Fucking exquisite," he says, his lips kissing your thigh. "What do you need?" he repeats, almost begging.   

"I need you to fuck the pain away, Joel," you whisper, spreading your legs further. "Help me forget, please," you beg, your back arching as his hands travel up beneath the fabric of your dress. His fingers make their way up to your core, and his fingertips graze the gusset of your thong, adding pressure as he traces along your slit through the wet fabric. Your legs start to shake as his finger slips beneath the fabric, the edge of his fingertips probing at your entrance. Joel hums in satisfaction. He slowly inches his fingers into you. "Do you think you can come, just like this?"

"Yes," you moan, hitching your leg higher as you place your foot on his desk chair. He slides his fingers into you, the squelch of your wetness echoing throughout his office walls as he prods into you, his eyes dark as he watches his fingers being swallowed whole in your pussy. "Fuck Joel, just like that-"

"Should we check something off from my list?" he asks, moving his fingers away from your pussy as you whine from the loss of sensation, putting the glistening digits into his mouth, savoring your taste.  

You nod eagerly. "Yes, Joel. Please-"

"Turn around for me, Sugar," he softly commands. "... and grab onto something." You oblige, slowly turning so you are facing his desk, his hands pushing your back so your chest is resting on its surface. Your hands grab onto the edge of it, pushing your ass higher as he lifts the hem of your dress, exposing your ass. You swear you can imagine his smirk as his hands travel up the globes of your asscheeks, his grasp harsh, squeezing the plumpness of it. He grips your thighs and spreads them wider, lifting your ass to be level with his cock. He starts to grind into your core, your body trembling in his wake.  

He hooks his fingers through the elastic edge of your panties, ripping it off your hips. You turn your head to face him, watching as he pockets the scrap of lace into his back pocket. "You won't be needing this," he whispers, and you watch as he unzips his jeans, pushing it down along with his boxer briefs, his cock swollen and leaking at the tip. You gasp at the sight, rolling your bottom lip against your teeth. He rubs his erection through your folds, notching the tip of your entrance. "I'm gonna need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me, Sugar?"

He slides in before you can reply, and your voice gets caught in your throat, the feeling of him inside of you so delicious you moan out in pleasure. He starts to fuck you slowly, deeply. "Fuck Joel, just like that-"

"Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good, so fucking tight!" he harshly grabs onto your hips as he begins to cant his hips against yours, the angle he set hitting you just right. The entire desk starts to shake as he pounds into you, and you have half of a mind to say something, but Joel continues his pace, his head thrown back, eyes closed.  Thank god for the carpet, you think to yourself.  

He gathers your hair, pulling your body towards his as he continues to thrust harshly into you. "You're so good like this, baby. So fucking good for me, right Sugar?" he rips your dress from the front, the buttons flying throughout his office, pulling your breasts from the cups of your bra. He's pumping into you relentlessly, his mouth latching onto your neck. He grabs your breasts, kneading and squeezing. "One of these days you'll let me fuck these," he breathes in your ear.

"Joel, my dress!" you exclaim. "I can't walk around the office with my tits out!"

"We're going shopping after this, baby, don't you worry. You can wear the shirt off my back for all I care, gonna have to teach Lenore a lesson for having a big fucking mouth-"

"Can we not talk about another woman when you're balls deep inside of me?" you whine, meeting his thrusts as you pull on his shirt, trying to keep your moans as silent as possible, not wanting the entire office to hear Joel railing you into oblivion. "Fuck Joel, can you fuck me harder?"

Joel halts, pressing his cock deep inside, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. He reaches behind him, rolling his desk chair towards him to sit as he pulls you onto his lap, impaling you. "You're gonna have to be real quiet for me, okay baby?" he whispers against your throat. "We shouldn't be doing this, but I can't fucking get enough of you. Want to claim you on every fucking inch of this office, do you want that, baby? for me to fuck you on every single surface of this office?"

"Yes!" you scream, hopping on Joel's cock as he thrusts up into you, the position allowing you to feel all of him. "Fuck Joel, I feel so fucking full, how are you this massive? Fuck-"

"I'm going to fill you up, make you take all of my cum, make you mine completely. Remember when I sang you that song all those years ago? I looked into your eyes and swore I saw my future children in your eyes, fuck, It's all I've thought about," he groans, and it stirs something deep inside of you, the thought of your children, with Joel's brown eyes and smile, running around in the house, laughing, playing, living a life you were denied as a child. "Are you going to be the mother of my children?"

"Yes! Yes, fucking fill me up, make me yours, I can take it, I can take it! Fuck a baby into me, baby, I'll be so good, so so good-"

Joel's hand goes to your clit, his fingers rough against the nub, rubbing it furiously as you chase your release. "Then fucking come for me, Sugar," he commands. Come for me on my cock and I'll give you the entire fucking world-" He covers your mouth with his hands, his thrusts slow and deep as you fall apart completely. He braces your hands on the edge of the desk as he kicks his chair backward, pounding into you as he chases his release, his face in your neck as he sucks on your pulse point. "You think it'll take this time? You gonna give me baby?"

"Yes! Fill me up, I want all of it!"

Joel groans at that, thrusting into you once more as he falls apart, coming into you deep. You feel his cum fill you so much to the point that it starts to leak out of you. Joel keeps himself inside, panting heavily against your neck. "Fuck baby, I love you so fucking much." He kisses your cheek, pulling himself out of you slowly as he slumps onto his chair once more, his head thrown back in exhaustion. He unbuttons his flannel, throwing it towards you. "Put this on," he says, shrugging his jacket on as you straighten yourself. You raise your eyebrows at him as you button on his shirt, drowning in it. Joel gives you a wry smile. "Cancel all of your appointments, we're going shopping."

"Oh yeah? Just drop work, just like that?"

"Yeah," he replies nonchalantly. "I think it's time we visit our good friend Lenore. Have a little chat."

"Are you ready?" you nervously ask Joel as the two of you stand at the front door. "We can always turn around, say that I'm sick or something-" You fiddle with the hem of your dress, straightening yourself. "Don't you think this dress is a little much?" you ask absentmindedly.

"I think the real question is if you're ready, baby," he replies, a small reassuring smile on his face. "I've been telling you that I've been wanting to scream from the rooftops, yelling that you're mine-"

"I am yours like you are mine." You smile, placing your hands on his chest as you pull him towards you, his lips meeting yours. "I've never been so sure in my life, Joel. I think it's time we stop fucking around, right?"

"I've been yours since the first day I saw you, I was a goner-" he leans in for another kiss as you greedily accept, kissing him deeper, and deeper, and his hands travel lower, and lower, and your hands travel higher, and higher, until they reach the hair at the nape of his neck, and you're pulling, pulling, pulling, getting lost in his embrace. How can something that feels so good and so pure be so terrible to those around you?

"Sugar?!" Your mother's surprised voice slices through the air like a warning shot, abruptly shattering the enchantment between you and Joel. "Mr. Miller?!?" Her exclamation hangs in the tense moment, her gaping mouth and contorted expression revealing a mix of shock and embarrassment. "What on earth is going on here?"

"Mom, I-" you stammer, clearly struggling for words.

"Ma'am," Joel interjects, cutting through the tension. He gracefully presents her with the bouquet that rests on the bench, the vivid orange lilies contrasting against the soft pink of the Rhododendrons he had chosen at the florist. "How do you say 'Fuck you, I've won?'" he whispers with a smirk to the florist while sliding his black Amex across the counter. The resulting display is a beautiful arrangement, yet it carries an unmistakably direct message – as if declaring, "I love and desire your daughter, but I loathe you, so stand the hell back." Joel continues, "It's been a long time; I see the roof is holding up nicely-"

"Yes, well," your mother chokes, hastily grabbing the bouquet from his outstretched hand. "These are beautiful, Mr. Miller-"

"Come on, we're past pleasantries. Call me Joel," he smirks. "Happy anniversary, by the way... and thanks for the invite. Sugar said you guys were talking about me earlier today, so she thought she could surprise you by bringing me along with her."

"Joel. Right," your mother mutters to herself. "I was just asking how she was getting along working with you since she's been so busy, she barely comes around now!" She clears her throat, straightening herself, and glances at you, her eyes darting to the tightness of your dress. "Sugar, baby, what a... beautiful dress you have there. Are you not cold with how short it is?"

Joel squeezes your hand in his, giving you a wink. "Doesn't she look stunning in Herve Leger? Lenore has a great eye, right?"

Your mother fidgets nervously, chuckling to herself. "Lenore at Neiman Marcus? Yes, yes, well... she certainly knows how to flatter the female figure. I wasn't aware you were a client of hers-"

"Well, I had to introduce her to Sugar, you know, considering she always takes good care of me and my girls," he muses, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. You could swear you see your mother gulp at the gesture, her gaze dropping to her nails as she struggles to formulate a response.

"Well, what are we doing out here? Come in, come in!" she says suddenly as if her role as a doting, perfect entertaining housewife finally reboots in her brain. "Sugar's father will be surprised to see you after all these years, you made quite a name for yourself with your multi-million business-"

"Yeah, we did okay, I expect that this government job that we're bidding on might just push us over a billion next year if all goes well." He smiles widely, putting his arm around your shoulder. "Shall we, Sugar?" 

You nod aimlessly, letting Joel gently guide you towards the dining room, the laughter of your parents' friends echoing through the foyer. Your body starts to shake slightly, the nervousness of facing your father gradually taking over.

"Stop shaking, baby. I'm right here, alright? I ain't gonna leave your side for a second, okay?" Joel whispers suddenly in your ear, pressing a reassuring kiss to your hair. You nod once more, tightening your grasp on Joel's hand, finding comfort in his presence.

"Everyone, you remember my daughter, Sugar?" your mother announces abruptly as you enter the dining room, her gaze immediately meeting your father's as she holds up the bouquet. "Joel bought us a lovely arrangement. I'm just going to find a vase. Why don't you sit by your father, baby?" A wave of judgmental eyes from your parents' friends descends upon both of you, and you can't ignore the audible gasps of shock that fill the suddenly quiet room.

"Joel Miller," your dad suddenly remarks, his eyes narrowing at your clasped hands. "Now, that's a face I didn't expect to see again." His gaze lingers on yours, a subtle twitch in his eye revealing his displeasure as he presses his lips together. "Sugar, care to explain why your boss is gracing us with his presence tonight?"

"Uh-" you stammer, closing your eyes briefly. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Joel."

The sound of glass breaks in the distance, your mother's surprised gasp shortly following, as if she was hovering past the kitchen in an attempt to eavesdrop on the inevitable showdown between your Father and Joel. You see your mother's maid run towards the door, excusing herself as she attempts to help your mother. You see your mother's friend from the club whispering to the man beside her, shaking her head as she links two and two together, a knowing smirk on the man's face as he looks at the both of you.  

"I see," your father responds, adjusting his collar to maintain composure. "Well, what's keeping you both standing there? Take a seat!" he commands, a forced smile directed at his friends. Joel moves to the chair beside your father, a playful raise of his eyebrows as he settles in, and you follow suit in the adjacent seat.

"Sir," Joel murmurs, his hand extended for a shake. Your father eyes the offered hand, clearing his throat before accepting it, engaging in a handshake with Joel. "It's been what, ten years?"

"Has it truly been that long? I recall warning you to steer clear of my daughter even then," he retorts wryly, sipping his drink leisurely.

"Honey," your mom interjects shakily, taking her seat beside you, opposite your father. "Our guests might prefer not to dwell on the past-"

"Dad, stop." You say softly, your head cast down. The emotions that you are going through are reminiscent of the emotions you felt when you were a kid, and you find yourself anxiously fiddling with your hands under the table, your bottom lip quivering slightly. "Please stop."

"What was that?" your dad asks menacingly, setting his fork down harshly. "If you have something to say, you might as well look at me! How did I end up with such a weak-minded naive little girl who opens her legs at the first rich old man she can find-"

"That's enough." Joel cuts in suddenly, his fists clenched together tightly, his knuckles white.  

As you glance at your mother from the corner of your eyes, you notice a slight tremor at the edge of her mouth. It's at that moment that you realize you share a vulnerable connection with her. Your mother looks just as horrified as you feel, her hands shaking while your father continues his tirade. The tears start to well up at the corners of your eyes, making your vision blurry. It's a tough moment, and you can't help but see a reflection of your own emotions in your mother's eyes.

"Tell me Miller, how long did you wait to seduce my daughter after you hired her at your firm?"

"Honey-" your mother interjects, shifting in her chair uncomfortably. "We have guests-"

"Or how long did you take until you seduced poor Mr. Miller here?" your Father spits, shaking his head in disbelief, his gaze going to your mother's shaking form. "What can I say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..."

"THATS ENOUGH!" you suddenly scream, slamming your fists on the table. You wipe the tears from your eyes, not caring about the mess it'll make at the makeup that the woman at the Laura Mercier counter meticulously placed upon your face earlier when Joel took you on an impromptu shopping trip for your cocktail dress. "Just stop it, STOP IT!"

Your father rises from his seat, his eyes drunkenly narrowed at you as he points at Joel. "You know, when they were talking about the little slut that was fucking Joel Miller at some dressing room who looked a lot like my daughter, I thought to myself, 'No, it couldn't be my little girl, she should know better', but then I see you in front of me, wearing that," he motions to your dress, "Maybe I misjudged my daughter after all. Congratulations, I guess, you managed to sleep your way to the top, just like your mother-"

"I said THATS ENOUGH!" you scream, rising from your seat, meeting your father's gaze.  

"Baby," your mother calls out in near tears. "Just let it go, you know how your father gets when he's drunk-"

But it's like you can't hear her.

"So it's okay for you, a rich man in a powerful position to 'seduce' a young woman, make her your wife, and force her into a life where she plays the doting perfect housewife, never allowed to pursue her dreams, always under your thumb? Is it okay for you to think so poorly of your child, your flesh and blood because I decided to fall in love with someone you don't approve of?" you're full-on crying now, not caring that you have an audience, tired of being that scared little girl who never spoke up, never had a voice of her own.  

"I did everything right. I wore the clothes you wanted, stayed away from any scandal, followed the rules, and earned an advanced degree at a decent school—all on my own merit. Only to be reduced to being seen as your 'little girl', unable to stand on my own two feet? Is it so bad that finally, I found someone patient enough to wait for me? Do you have any idea how long I've loved Joel? Only for you to tear us apart? Joel Miller is not like you, Father. He's built himself up from the bottom, proving himself to everyone who doubted him. He works tirelessly, supports his family and friends, and is the best boss anyone could ask for. And most importantly, he loves me, never gave up on me, and worked hard to prove himself. But here's the truth—I would have loved him even without all of this," you motion to the opulent interior, "richer or poorer. He never had to prove himself to me. I love him, and that's all that matters."

You glance down at Joel, who's clearly in shock by your confession. His mouth is agape, but there's awe in his eyes, and you know he's proud of you for standing your ground and finally finding your voice. He clears his throat, taking a sip of wine. "Thank you, baby," he whispers. You nod, wiping away the last of your tears.

Surveying the now silent room, your mother's eyes downcast, and your father staring into the distance from his seat, you offer a smile. "I apologize for the outburst, but I believe Joel and I have overstayed our welcome. I'm sorry for disrupting your dinner, Mom and Dad, but I don't think I belong here anymore." You raise your hand to Joel, who is already two steps behind you, and he rises from his seat, taking your hand in his. "I won't be part of a family that doesn't accept me any longer. Let's go, Joel."

"Sugar, baby, please-" you can hear your mom call out behind you as you lead Joel away from the dining room, determined to get the hell out of there. You hear your father telling your mother to sit down, to just let it go.  

"What are we gonna do now, baby?" Joel asks, engulfing you in a hug, and kissing the top of your head as you stand in the foyer.  

There's a glint in your eyes as you take his face in your hands, meeting his lips in a kiss.  

"Do you want to dish out some sweet fucking revenge?" you ask, your hands traveling down to his bulge in his slacks. "Give my poor father one last parting gift?"

His eyebrows raise in curiosity, groaning as you grab onto his cock harshly. "What did you have in mind, baby?"

"Follow me," you whisper, looking around to make sure no one is around, grabbing his hands as you lead him up the stairs, stopping at the door of your father's study. "Shall we?" you ask, opening the door. Joel nods eagerly, a small smirk on his face as he follows you into the room, closing the door behind him. You start to strip out of your dress, pushing the fabric slowly as Joel watches from behind. You push the fabric off your hips, sliding it from the slopes of your ass until the dress falls onto the ground, only leaving you in the black lace thong you asked Lenore to get you, a surprise for Joel. Joel groans in satisfaction as you lean against your father's desk, a wicked smile on your face.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" you breathe, "Are you going to fuck me on my father's desk or not?"

Joel smiles, unbuttoning his shirt. "I thought you would never fucking ask, baby."

Taglist:@sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29, @missladym1981 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

[the-delta-quadrant]

6 things i learned in 6 years of being out as nonbinary

1. not all nonbinary gender is derived from male or female.

i used to have a very simplified understanding of the gender spectrum as a triangle with the corners being male, female and agender and you could slide around on the sides or in the middle. gender is much, much bigger than that and learning that was an important lesson for both my own self-discovery as a maverique and my understanding of other people's experiences.

2. a lot of trans & nonbinary people still hold on to gender-related binaries.

somehow i wasn't aware of this until 3-4 years ago (ignorance was bliss!), but gender-related binaries are really common even in spaces that pride themselves in breaking them. male- and female-aligned used to be very common, classifying especially nonbinary people by AGAB still happens constantly, transmasc and transfem are being treated like a binary and people created a men vs non-men binary 2 years ago. we can't escape binaries even in our own communities.

3. there are a lot of people who treat nonbinary as a blank slate to project whatever is convenient to their argument on.

i'm nonbinary until i disagree, suddenly i'm a man. i'm nonbinary until i'm openly asexual, suddenly i'm a cishet female invader. nonbinary is not a single third gender, it's man-life or woman-lite. but actually nonbinary men and women don't exist, because the only way to be nonbinary is to be neither.

4. nearly every single nonbinary term either gets rebinarised or a lot of hate.

transgender used to be a term that mainly described people who we'd now call nonbinary, yet it now has a pretty binary connotation with nonbinary people still being pushed out on a regular basis. genderqueer was an earlier term for nonbinary, but binary people decided it wasn't inclusive enough if it didn't include them. people are trying to turn nonbinary into an ideology that binary people can follow rather than an identity. people hate the word enby because it gives us even the tiniest bit of legitimacy that is given to men and women by default. people lose their shit about labels that describe attraction to nonbinary people because apparently we're not a valid group of people to feel attraction towards.

5. binarism doesn't describe a general antinonbinary sentiment, but specifically bigotry against cultural genders.

we have the terms sexism, ableism, racism, classism, so it would only make sense that bigotry against nonbinary people would be called binarism, right? wrong. binarism is a form of colonial violence that frames the western gender binary as the only real gender system, and punishes cultures that recognise more than two genders. the -ism term for nonbinaryantagonism would be exorsexism.

6. binary people are gonna think you're a cringey weirdo no matter what you do, so you might as well prove them right.

no matter how palatable we try to be, at the end of the day they hate us all.

[doberbutts]

i think what is making me speechless about people interacting with that post is the absolute obtuse way they steer around “poc men” where they state that men are oppressors but poc are minorities and dont benefit from male privilege and then run miles trying to avoid the most straight question of “then what do you consider a poc man then? what of this experience i have had?” to which they are running with the idea of a cishet white patriarchal idea of men with privilege and oppressor status- and refusing to analyze their own inherent racism when they state all men are oppressors and therefore all men should be quiet and listen to women- but of course poc is an oppressed class and dont need to be quiet and that no one would ever say that- but also men need to understand all women are afraid of men. they are refusing to interact with this flat out not controversial statement that the popfeminist/radfem-lite is not intersectional and erases peoples lived experiences, all because they dont want to do the work to unlearn their discomfort and know that they themselves are not immune to “being a bad feminist”. i myself as a mixed poc tmasc have a kneejerk discomfort to cis women due to my exwife leveraging radfem logic against me as a way to subdue and erase my voice and lived experiences because once i started to identify as masculine i was choosing the side of the patriarchy- but i acknowledge that my discomfort is from my own past experience and that i cant treat every woman like they would treat me the same that she did; so all of these users adding to your post, running themselves around in circles to state that they are in the right to continue to stereotype all and every man (but no not every man- poc are not a Man because they arent racist of course) as privilaged and predatory and therefore its the mans responsibility to bend over backwards for their or other people they are speaking on behalf ofs (lets go out to their fields to find the strawman out there) comfort; because feminism means men need to make themselves smaller- like PLEASE!!! these people need to evaluate their own biases and stop showing their entire behinds on a post that they want to interact with but also not be corrected on and please please please pick up 1 (one) bell hooks book (which they wont because they dont read anything, they just have other people tell them what the right things to say are)

sorry about my ramble- it might not be cohesive, but i am absolutely aghast and agog at the gall these people have to be telling you that you are incorrect and that they are simply stating the “accepted truth” of “feminist spaces” while they most certainly are not and are being incredibly dense about plain facts

Yeah I hit my breaking point the other day when I said the word evil. I am not proud of that moment but also I don't know how else to describe what I feel every time this happens. How can anyone look at the body count and say that's acceptable collateral damage as long as their feelings of safety (real safety be damned) are guaranteed.

[literary-butch]

The way Leslie Feinberg talks about the women's liberation movement in Stone Butch Blues (I think in chapter 13?) really fucking resonated with me and made me go oh shit because this is what we've never recovered from. This line that says you must fit into the conventions that is either 'man' or 'woman' but only ever in the way other people describe for you. We had this for the gay lib movement, third wave feminism, the debates about lesbian sex ethics, modern trans debates. Its why we hate women who are masculine and men who are feminine, its why we hate drag performers and any trans person who doesn't perfectly pass as cisgendered. Its why nonbinary is only accepted if you can be seen as woman-lite. We are still culturally clinging to the differences between the binary sexes instead of deconstructing the ways compulsory gender has harmed most of us. I think we need some serious thinking about the nuances between freedom to express and cultural gender identity, how we can enjoy butch/femme identities without forcing them into a new binary all over again, and ALSO about how specifically lesbian trauma around cismen affects how we treat and see masculine presenting women, butches, and the trans*/nonbinary people in our community.

[johannestevans]

Is the Homophobia Worth a New Hobby?

Rolling the dice on homophobia in nerd spaces.

Photo by lil artsy via Pexels.

Originally published in Prism & Pen. Also available on Patreon.

---

I went to a board-game evening last night with my boyfriend Lewis, who’s nonbinary and uses he/they pronouns. Frequently, people assume they’re cisgender, especially because he’s fat and has a gorgeous, thick beard.

I’m a gay trans man, I only use he/him pronouns, and I’m at a point in my transition now where I almost never get clocked as transgender even by other trans people — a lot of the time other trans people don’t even realise I’m trans too unless I say it explicitly or take my shirt off and they can see my tits.

I occasionally joke that the time I really knew I was passing as a man was when other comics in stand-up comedy spaces started making homophobic jokes about me instead of misogynistic ones, joking that they didn’t want to bend over in front of me, or similar.

But just because they don’t know I’m transgender doesn’t mean they don’t know I’m gay.

I’ve written before about my nuanced experiences of gender-based interaction as a gay man who’s perceived unequivocally as gay and effeminate in every situation I’m in, even at a distance, and how this translates to cis women feeling more comfortable with and safer with me than they might if they perceived me as heterosexual.

Gay men often seek out employment in areas that are perceived as being “for women” or stereotypical women’s jobs — nursing is a stereotypical career for queer men, and much of the time, queer men will fall into step with women in retail, hospitality, and other customer service positions, especially if they’re very obviously queer from a distance.

Why?

Because homophobia is hostile to us in every environment.

People will often wonder why queer men will take up stereotypical “women’s jobs” when being men in those positions make them stand out more because there aren’t other men around. Won’t they be opening themselves up to more homophobia by being such a visible queer man among a staff of mostly other women?

And what those people are missing is how like… queer men among women in service positions will absolutely be treated with homophobia, but because they’re alongside women who are going to be treated misogynistically by many customers at a bare minimum, they will be amongst friends.

Even in more traditionally “masculine” careers and environments, queer men might gravitate towards socialising with the women in the space rather than other men who are cishet or just less visibly queer, because it’s safer as a queer man to be amongst those women than to be amongst the men — who might be violent, who might be hostile or rude, or might just treat him as invisible.

People often treat male nurses and midwives, male nannies and primary school teachers, male receptionists and personal assistants as jokes. They might think of them as stereotypically gay and effete, limp-wristed, “sassy.” I know a lot of those gays. They’re my friends and lovers and ex-coworkers.

I’ve worked alongside them. They’re absolutely real.

But what people mix up is the cause and effect of why those men are in those positions. They don’t become sassy and obviously gay because they took a receptionist job. They went for those jobs — and might excel in those jobs because — being hired elsewhere might be harder, and specifically, surviving elsewhere might be harder.

Because it’s not just about getting hired, it’s about getting to do your day-to-day duties, about going for promotions, about how comfortable customers or patients or parents or students are dealing with you.

And while, sure, they might treat you with homophobia in mind, or say homophobic shit to you — because the positions are stereotypical women’s jobs and you as an effete gay man are treated by much of society as woman-lite or basically a woman (“Except you’re technically a man… I guess.”) the idea that you belong in that position is natural.

These are the caring professions, the service professions.

People like women to be in those positions because they’re “more caring” or because they’re “good communicators” — and because they’re expected to constantly smile and be friendly and bubbly and pretty, and to do what they’re told and to say “the customer is always right” and make you feel good even as you treat them disrespectfully.

People are often more comfortable treating a woman like that than they are a straight man, because to do that to a straight man would be emasculating. It would be an insult to his manhood to treat him like that.

What are you insulting with a gay man, when we don’t have the same manhood to insult in the first place? What are you emasculating, when he emasculates himself with his very existence?

Some queer men I know go up the expected men’s path of advancement in their careers, while others are much more in the expected women’s ones. These men get treated in the same way their female colleagues are and impacted by a similar glass ceiling.

It’s not to say gay men can’t benefit from and leverage misogyny against female coworkers in the workplace, any more than women can’t benefit from and leverage homophobia against their queer male coworkers, depending on the dynamics of a particular workplace and the intersections of marginalisation at play — particularly given that I’m only discussing here the intersections of misogyny and homophobia. I’m not even getting into racism and particularly anti-Blackness, ableism, ageism, fatphobia, or any other form of bigotry that influences the power dynamics and marginalised experiences present in any given workplace.

The thing about workplaces is that we often enter them because we have to. We have to navigate different forms of bigotry or marginalisation, slot ourselves into wherever we can safely fit, or at least fit as safely as possible, because ultimately, we need to earn a wage.

We can’t just pick and choose and wait until we can find employment with people who don’t or wouldn’t leverage institutional power over us, or find a mythical workplace that’s untouched by bigotry or capitalism and the desire by bosses, not to mention society, to exploit their workers.

We do our best to fit ourselves into whatever career track or employment position will allow us best to survive and support ourselves, because we need to earn money to live — to pay rent, to feed and clothe ourselves, to support ourselves.

What about hobbies?

What about things that we’re doing ostensibly for fun? Is it worth it then? Any woman can tell you that navigating nerd spaces can be excruciating.

Frequently, women and people perceived as women are presumed to be ignorant of anything around them in such spaces. They’re guessed to be the wives or girlfriends of men in attendance. Simple concepts might continuously be explained to them when they’re veterans of whatever the hobby is.

They’re treated as romantic or sexual prospects of any man who lays eyes on them, with a refusal to allow them to just play and exist in the space without being sexually objectified.

In the event they do show their knowledge or expertise, insecure men might respond by quizzing them and putting them to test after test, or by furiously disagreeing with any mild critique or opinion they share.

And again, I’m only talking about misogyny here — if that woman is Black, or queer, or trans, or all three?

White cishet dudes will froth at the mouth to demand why she thinks she’s allowed to be there, why she thinks she can be comfortable or can enjoy the same things they do, or speak on them with any entitlement or expertise.

Many white cishet dudes in nerd spaces effectively believe that nerd spaces — sci-fi and fantasy literature and entertainment, board games, video games, computing and tech spaces, coding, comic books, etc — were invented by and for men like them. They respond to any kind of diversity of identity or experience in the space as if it’s an invading threat.

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko via Pexels.

Particularly because many of them have experiences of being emasculated or bullied for not measuring up to mainstream standards of straight masculinity — because they’re disabled or chronically ill, because they’re autistic, or simply because they “look” and came off as nerdy or geeky since they were young, and were never able to navigate “popular” spaces — they take on a very competitive mindset with the other men within the space. A lot of these spaces can be horrifically toxic, with these men putting each other down, wallowing in their loneliness whilst gloating over men who are more lonely or more pathetic or uglier or nerdier than they are.

They don’t want solidarity with each other in most instances — until a woman walks into the room.

They use and have internalised deeply misogynistic ideologies, often thinking of women as prizes to be won, or beautiful trophies, or in general as people who experience emotions — especially loneliness or isolation — in “shallower” or less real ways than they do themselves as men.

Subsequently, they respond to the presence of women in their spaces as a potential threat and/or as potential reward for one of them.

Nerdy guys of this calibre are often very attached to their identity as a societal outsider, and by their own definition of societal outsider (based in faulty assumption and self-obsession) women can’t experience this sort of social isolation. Women are therefore treated as invaders in the space.

Visibly or obviously queer men are not treated in precisely the same way, but in many social environments, because of the ways in which effeminate queer men are socially sorted into a woman category by homophobes, we’re often treated in ways that effectively mirror expressions of misogyny.

I have a stand-up bit about how many cishet people effectively project their expected male-female dynamic of a heterosexual relationship onto a gay couple, where you can see them doing the maths in their head:

Oh, that one rides a motorbike and has short hair, so she must be the husband, and the other one wears dresses and paints her nails, so she must be the wife. But wait, the wife has a high-powered law career and the one with short hair is a stay-at-home mother! Maybe the lawyer is the husband and the mom is the wife! But wait! The lawyer was the one who carried the baby, and the stay-at-home mom is trans! But wait!

And so on.

Straight people are so obsessed with their gender binary that they’ll tell you something like “Dogs are boys and cats are girls,” to the extent that if you’re like, “What? Why?” they’ll say something like, “You know, because dogs are goofy but cats are sexy,” and they’ll treat that shit as completely normal rather than moderately deranged. They’ll act like you’re the odd one for saying how ridiculous that is, because it’s so ingrained in their world view.

So of course, meeting a couple formed of two men or two women (or two people they assume are two men or two women), they’ll naturally project the same gender binary onto them.

I like board games, right?

That’s not true.

I love board games. I’ve been obsessed with them since I was a child. I own dozens of them, and I’m only starting to get more into the hobby as an adult in the past few years, attending board-game nights here and there. I used to have a lot more social anxiety, and I tend to get quite overwhelmed in unfamiliar environments with large groups of people where I’m also learning new skills, so it’s taken me awhile to feel more confident about going to boardgames events — but I’ve pretty much always attended queer ones.

There are multiple queer board and tabletop game nights in the Bristol and Bath area. There’s one or two in Cardiff; there’s a regular running one in Galway; of course, there’s several across the Leeds and Bradford area.

Last night we went to a local board-game night — just a general meet-up. I liked the look of it because it seemed to have an older age cohort than many of the queer ones I’ve gone to, and a good mix of people.

Lewis and I walk in: they’re drinking a pint of cider, I’m drinking a double of Bailey’s on the rocks. They’re wearing an open striped shirt over a t-shirt and a pair of shorts; I’m wearing some blue trousers with a ruffled blouse and an open waistcoat. They have a thick gingery-brown beard; I have thick sideburns and a moustache.

Of course, I also wear eyeliner. He’s fat, I’m thin, and while we both have similar mannerisms — we hold our hands delicately, we both tend to sway our hips somewhat when we walk with a slight sashay, we both gesticulate and express ourselves with our hands — because of the way that people tend to desexualise fat people and particularly those they perceive as fat men, cishet men often treat Lewis slightly differently than they do fellow cishet men, even just assuming they’re a cis gay man.

We often notice and talk about the fact that when Lewis walks in somewhere on their own, people read him as gay, and that’s coloured and influenced by their fatphobia, where they just assume that fat men don’t fuck, but because of a combination of his fatness and his queerness leading people to assume a level of emasculation, they guess that a lot of people assume they’re a bottom.

Until I’m standing next to them and it’s clear we’re a couple — the assumption is that because I’m thinner and because I’m more pretty than Lewis’ handsome, I’m the bottom, and if we’re split into a cishet’s vision of a man and woman, that makes me the woman.

We put our drinks down as I take out the two games we brought with us and a man comes over — tall, white, cis and straight, in his 50s. He’s friendly!

To Lewis.

I was the one that RSVPed to the event, my name was on the attending list, and they were just marked on the list as a +1. I was the one that looked for the event and brought it to them for us to go.

He asks both of us our names, but when asking us about games, he directs most of his questions to Lewis; his body is angled toward Lewis’ conversation; he looks at Lewis about 70 or 80% more than he looks at me, even though I’m leading much more of the conversation.

It’s not that Lewis doesn’t like board games, of course he does! He attends regular queer board-game nights, they enjoy different kinds of board games, but they remarked that what stood out to them about the conversations of the night is that men kept asking them about the different games, and he didn’t know any of the terminology — deckbuilders or worker-placement games, co-operative versus area control games — and wasn’t as familiar with the stalwarts in each genre.

Whereas, I was and was just ignored. Lewis likes board games the way a normal person likes board games — he likes to play different ones, he enjoys them as a method of socialising with others and meeting and engaging with new people.

Photo by Pixabay via Pexels.

I’m a bit of a freak about board games. I own dozens of them, I browse forum entries and read reviews of board games, I’d play board games solo — they’re an area of special interest for me.

The man who walked over asked if anyone was interested in a particular game, and I put up my hand and said I was super interested in playing In The Year of the Dragon (which I very much enjoyed and was absolutely into). Even playing the game, he described a lot of it initially to Lewis and the other guy playing with us and made far less eye contact with me, talked less directly to me, but also in general acted as if I was less interested and invested in the game than anyone else at the table, despite the fact that I was the first volunteer for it.

It’s the sort of thing that’s so blatant when you experience it, and yet if I’d called it out at the time, I would have been treated as being very unreasonable, if not insane. A lot of the time, when cishet men treat women and effeminate men like this (as abled people with disabled people; as white people with POC and esp Black and dark-skinned people; the list goes on and on) they’re often not entirely conscious that they’re doing it.

There have been numerous studies into gendered interactions in different environments, how much men interrupt women versus the reverse, how a minority of women are perceived as making a more significant amount of the group because of how they’re treated as tokens. If you just speak with people anecdotally, some will absolutely relate similar experiences.

Some people will become angry and upset when you point this out, and say that it’s actually the fault of the people being ignored or spoken over, because they’re not being big or loud enough, or angry enough that it’s happening to them.

Except, if you get angry about it, you go from being the woman or gay man being treated as a non-entity to being the woman or gay man treated as an irrational hysteric, imagining mistreatment where none is happening.

As the game went on, and each of us made mistakes or showed that we were learning the game, the attitude toward me at the table did change a bit, especially because Lewis and I answered a lot of questions together, and we do, as a lot of couples do, add to each other’s answers or remind each other of things mid-discussion.

And then, another man came over to the table, because he was obviously a regular at these events, and had never seen Lewis before. He asked Lewis if they were enjoying this game, what sort of games they liked.

He didn’t even look at me, let alone direct any of his questions toward me, even though Lewis looked to me multiple times when they couldn’t remember particular games they’d liked, or wasn’t certain what kind or genre of games they fit into. I actually answered the question of what games I favoured even though he hadn’t asked, and he sort of nodded awkwardly as he left.

I shouldn’t be entirely offended — the thing about nerd spaces (as with many other cishet-male dominated spaces) is that conversation like this isn’t necessarily approached with a view to making new friends or social connections.

A lot of these guys just want to measure each other up so that they know where they stand in the pecking order, which other men are potential threats to their masculinity or to their standing in the pack — will they be better than him at his favourite games? Will they embarrass him by making him look bad, either by being better at certain strategies, or by knowing more than he does about his favourite subjects and specialist fields? Will they out-man him, in short?

I felt horrible after last night even though I genuinely enjoyed the actual game, because the thing is, like…

When someone turns around and calls you a faggot, or even when they make catty little comments about your sexuality, at least you know they know you’re there.

When you’re treated as functionally invisible, an extension of someone else’s humanity, and given the “girlfriend treatment” — whether because you’re actually a woman, because you’re perceived as a woman, or because you’re treated as woman-adjacent because of some element of your personhood that means you’re also deserving of misogyny— it’s maddening, and it’s sickening.

There’s no easy way to actually fight against it, most of all because it’s so thoughtless, and so easily denied as accidental or inconsequential.

One thing I’m very lucky for is that Lewis does know what that experience is like and clocked it and noticed it and why it was happening from the get-go, whereas I know a lot of women dating men particularly have difficulty not just relating that experience but describing it to an uncaring or oblivious partner. I think there’s something really unpleasant particularly about being in their position, because I’ve felt something similar, where you go to an event with someone similarly or differently marginalised to you, and you’re more keyed into what’s happening, but also like…

There’s a sense that you’re being afforded humanity effectively because your partner or the friends you’ve come with is being afforded less. You’re expected to be complicit or fully engage in their manufactured invisibility so that you can enjoy some conditional privilege.

Lewis didn’t, of course. Repeatedly, he would redirect some questions to me or turn and make a show of asking me. It was just ignored to a large extent, but it’s still shitty to be put in that position with the assumption that you wouldn’t want to do so.

We discussed it, afterwards.

If he’d gone alone, would they have shown the same amount of interest in him, or would they have treated him as they did me, without a faggier gay guy next to him to compare and contrast them with? If I’d gone alone, would they have been forced to extend more interest to me as a person, because there’s no partner to assume I’m the “girlfriend” of?

If we’d gone with a bunch of other queer people in tow, outnumbering them, how would it have been different?

How would it have been different if we’d been at a table with some of the women, or at a table where women were the majority? Middle-aged cishet women have their own homophobia, naturally, but it wouldn’t have been quite like this.

There weren’t any visibly queer men there, but what if we’d sat down with some of the lesbians?

I like board games a lot, and I really like talking and interacting with different groups of people, and especially as someone who writes in the SFF genre and regularly attends sci-fi and fantasy events and conventions, I’m familiar with this unsubtle and subtle homophobia, being snubbed or ignored by other men whether they notice they’re doing it or not, but it’s like…

How much do I actually like board games? How much am I willing to weather to establish my personality in certain spaces and to be afforded some humanity? How many times do I go back until I’m seen as a person — as a full person at that?

It’s just shitty, having to weigh up those calculations when all you want to do is sit down, roll your dice, and have a good time. At least I do have queer-run events to avail myself of, and I do know that I rarely if ever experience this attitude as a queer man at them, but they’re neither as often nor as local as other board-game groups.

Like I said, it’s one thing weighing up these things for somewhere you have to be — navigating a workplace, navigating healthcare, etc, but when it’s something you do ostensibly for fun?

It’s not quite as fun when you have to put in a twelve-step strategy just to be seen as a human being.

[manstrans]

“Men can go to hobby groups and-“

Women can too? I spent like 16-17 years as a woman??? I was invited to hobby groups and groups to chill and hang out.

I felt safe in these spaces?

They’re not spaces to share emotions, feelings and struggles while being able to learn and grow as people?

Like, I dunno, I also grew up where a man deciding he wanted to shave his legs because it feels nice got him called a woman, and shamed so much he stopped doing it and lived in discomfort.

Sounds systemic and unsafe to me.

Hobby spaces aren’t safe spaces in the same way that spaces carved out to be safe spaces are.

Also marginalized men exist.

Men of Colour, Trans Men, Gay men?? Queer men as a whole?

Men targeted to uphold patriarchy that are then discarded once the patriarchy is settled.

A black man wanting a space where he isn’t treated like he’s inherently dangerous isn’t just important because he’s a man, but because that idea he is inherently a threat for being a BLACK man is dangerous.

People can’t remove that from conversations about gender either.

Race will ALWAYS matter, and every time I see conversations where people are saying “men don’t deserve safe spaces I should be allowed to bash ALL men (except trans men who are men lite/especially trans men who are traitors to womenhood)” I just think, “so white women convinced you men of colour oppress them for being men, as if white women still don’t get these men punished for being black.

Gay men don’t really 1:1 oppress straight women either.

Men being isolated and kept from their OWN communities is an issue. White supremacy does in fact allow outer groups to strengthen itself until it no longer needs that outer groups strength then it discards them.

There are black neo-nazis. There are gay ones. There are trans men bigots.

There are white women neo-nazis.

Bigots who have fallen into bigotry, and into extremism, usually are fed the ideals and it’s so easy to keep them there by pointing at something vitriol and saying, “look, see, they hate you, they’re your enemies, they deserve your hate and ire”.

Like, idk, that 12 year old boy isn’t good and innocent from his racist and harmful ideals he’s slinging around, but if no one helps him out of those beliefs he’ll be a 25 year old man with those harmful beliefs.

And I don’t know any way of thinking that says a 12 year old listens to horrible bitter put downs over like, long understanding conversations.

Like, even if you personally (broadly, not at you) don’t want to lead someone from those ideals, someone has to teach. Someone has to willingly pull people away from that.

People talk about rehabilitative justice and then turn around and say, “hey I think you’re harmful for existing and you deserve suffering”.

As if that helps somehow?

This just rounds back to, as well, marginalized men exist, and the Men vs Women dichotomy is literally Radical Feminism which ignores the racial factors of oppression. Which is how white women get away wish racism to black women while also saying “we need to stay united”

^^^^^ long but worth reading

[joeey-dee]

Unpopular opinion but Felicity didn't deserve the career she had and didn't work for it, it was just handed to her by men she was involved with. She was severly underqualified and had no understanding of a company's hierachy and zero respect for anyone, including her superiors. It wasn't badass, it was cringe.

She was promoted from simple IT worker to EA of the CEO not for talent, not because of her experience, not because of her degree, not because of her professionalism (which she was entirely lacking) but simply because Oliver was an idiot who didn't realize the issue of "If I'm going to be Oliver Queen CEO, then I can't very well travel down 18 floors every time you and I need to discuss how we spend our nights." could've been easily taken care of by the CEO requesting she travel up the 18 floors to come see him at his office, where they could privately discuss how they spent their nights. You're the boss, have the employees come to you, not the other way around. No need to give her one hell of a promotion she didn't even appreciate.

It was absolutely no surpise Isabel and most of QC drew the conclussion she was sleeping with Oliver and got the job because of that. Her wardrobe changed from professional to too short, colorful and tight dresses, she openly disrespected her boss every chance she got, in front of other employees, his business partner (who was trying to take the company from him), and even clients. Why should anyone respect Oliver in is role as CEO if not even his EA showed him any respect and tried to demean and ridicule him any chance she got? And regularly pointed out that he'd dropped out of college? She was so ungrateful and acted as if the job was beneath her, not understanding just how important an EA for the CEO and their work is. People spend years to reach that position and it was handed to her for nothing while she was in her early twenties, overgoing more qualified personal in senior positions. It's no wonder QCs employees harbored animosity towards him. His choice was very unprofessional and the way Felicity behaved made Oliver look like a joke and not someone to be taken seriously and knew what he was doing.

Also, she was then responsible for Oliver losing the company. Showed zero loyalty towards him by taking the job his rival who took the company from him offered, then sleeping with said man to get back at a grieving Oliver and a rise out of him. (And can we just take a minute to dissect the fact she got mad at him for 'not caring about Sara, his Sara's death' but then expected him to get over it right this second and jump in a relationship with her, make it make sense! Do you want him to grieve the woman he'd loved for eight years or do you want him to pretend he doesn't care and get involved with you right away? Make up your mind woman!) Using Ray to get what she wants. Ray hands the company over to her even after the shitty and disrespectful way she treated him, used him really, while she had zero qualifications to run it. She got the company because she was sleeping with Ray. And Ray later on in Legends regrets that choice after she ran it to the ground.

Felicity never considers offering the company to Thea, after she and Oliver broke up. Oliver might not have wanted it but Thea may have and she'd been a great choice. Felicity uses the company's scientific discoveries for her own personal needs, does a really bad job with the board who obviously neither like nor respect her, she hasn't earned her position, she might have gone to MIT but she doesn't have a business degree, any understanding of how an international company like QC is being run and lacking the people skills to potentially make up for her lack of knowledge nor is she willing to listen to and learn from other people because she feels she knows best, she graduated from MIT! What do those people with their business majors and years upon years of experience in the field know compared to her IT knowledge from MIT?

Felicity literally slept herself into the position she was in and it was no wonder she wasn't respected by the company's board and employees. She'd done nothing to earn that position or their respect.

Let me know what you guys think and if I'm alone with this opinion on the matter. It just always bugged me how little respect was shown for the position of an EA and how unrealistic Felicity's rise in the company was. One degree isn't interchangable with another and it doesn't matter how prestigious the college you graduated from was if your degrees aren't in the field you now work in. You might be the most knowledgable about computers but that doesn't mean you know how to run an international billion dollar company and she obviously didn't.

[softbutchthatlovesyou]

This might sound defensive but if you're attracted to a 100% binary trans man as a woman then that's straight regardless of what you say, because trans men are men full stop, maybe it's unintentional for you but there's a lot of trans men aren't really men or are women-lite shit going around, reanalyze yourself and your transphobia because that's straight up awful shit and I'm so sick of seeing this being spread around it's fucking conversion therapy shit disguised as something positive reanalyze why you want trans men to be with lesbians so badly when lesbians traditionally mean and is understood by wide society to be women liking women, like actually sit and think about that, maybe it's hard to admit that it's offense but good fucking god

You seem to be under the assumption that I am forcing the tran men who identify as Lesbians to be not fully men or women lite and you are very wrong?? I do not see a trans man as any less of a man for being a Lesbian. He is a Man and A Lesbian. They are both true. They are not conflicting labels just because of societies perceptions of a word that was forcefully adjusted after Lesbian separatism.

Yow however are the one assigning those people a sexuality based on how you see their relationships. Is a woman supposed to break up or change her entire sexuality because her partner came out and she didn't stop being attracted to him? What if she still primarily dates women after they breakup for unrelated reasons? Does she earn being a Lesbian back? Or maybe consider how many trans men are butches in the community who are Men and Lesbians and their femmes love them and are no less lesbian to any of their peers. What about those who are firmly Trans men and Trans Women at the same time? Do they stop being a lesbian on "Man days"? Do they earn it back on women days? You know, to make sure on "man days" they aren't viewed as Womenlite for being a lesbian by their own choice. Where's the line anon?

It sounds defensive because it is. You are not reading a word I've said about any of this and are shoving shit I don't believe into my inbox under the guise that you think I condone any of what the fuck you iust said.

I am a man and spend half my time fighting to be seen properly as one against transphobic Lesbians who insist I have to be a Girl Butch otherwise they have the right to dictate who I can date. I fucking know more than enough about people who want to change my gender to fit their transphobic views. I spend an entire portion of my blog fighting about transmasculine rights if you bothered to look around before you sent this accusatory ask.

Some Trans Men are Lesbians because THEY WANT TO BE. When I talk about Lesbian Trans Men I am talking about ME and THEM. If you cannot understand that then you are not having the same conversation as me.

Also the fucking Lesbiphobia of revoking someones right to be a Lesbian because you don't see it that way is disgusting. Who the fuck are you to think it's okay to tell somone they aren't who they say they are? we got a council that can kick us out of our little clubs since that's how you wanna treat these identities?

[borderline-purrsonality]

Same thing I’ll say again that I think I will reiterate again but I see so many of y’all act really weird to nonbinary people.

Way too many of yall will go on and on about how “nonbinary isn’t women-lite!!!” and then turn around and treat us like “man-lite.” You cannot see us as out of the binary and you will always force us into the binary.

You get up in arms about nonbinary people calling themselves lesbians and claim that “oh you’re forcing them to identify as woman-lite!!” ignoring that we literally do not adhere to any binary, and you end up misgendering nonbinary lesbians who very much do not want to be seen as women.

But even then yall will complain about a nonbinary person calling themselves straight, or even a cis person dating a nonbinary person and still calling themselves straight because you cannot comprehend the idea of queer people who are straight. Again and again yall will speak on behalf of the nonbinary community and end up speaking over us.

So stop speaking over us. Stop attaching a binary to us. Yes someone could identify as a demiboy and not want to be considered a man. Just speak to us.

No we are not “women-lite,” but we are also not “man-lite”

[dear-indies]

hello hello! i'm looking for some face claims that could fit the vibe of a street graffiti artist? it's quite vague but i got the urge to have this kind of muse but i'm stuck on fcs unfortunately! any ethnicity is good, and preferably female or nonbinary fcs in their 20s please! thank you so much ♥

Lee Joo Young (1992) Korean - in Green Night.

Jenny Zeng (1993) Korean - in Lighter and Princess.

Chelsea Rendon (1993) Latina, possibly Mexican - her role in Vida.

Devery Jacobs (1993) Mohawk - is queer.

Bae Suzy (1994) Korean.

Midori Francis (1994) Japanese / White - is queer.

Jaz Sinclair (1994) African-American / White.

Jasmin Savoy Brown (1994) African-American / White - is queer - has spoken up for Palestine!

Rachel Sennott (1995)

Jessie Mei Li (1995) Hongkonger / English - is a gender non-conforming woman who uses she/they - has spoken up for Palestine!

Sasha Calle (1995) Colombian.

Mason Alexander Park (1995) Mexican and Spanish - is non-binary (they/them).

Sasha Lane (1995) African-American, Māori, White - is gay and has schizoaffective disorder.

Ayo Edebiri (1995) Yoruba Nigerian / Barbadian - is queer.

Kehlani (1995) African-American, Blackfoot, Cherokee, Mexican, Filipino, Choctaw White - is a non-binary womxn, lesbian and polyamorous (she/they) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Ally Beardsley (1996) - is non-binary (they/them) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Florence Pugh (1996) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Tati Gabrielle (1996) African-American 1/4 Korean.

Emma Mackey (1996)

Ruth Codd (1996) - is an amputee.

Myha'la Herrold (1996) Afro Jamaican / White - is queer - has spoken up for Palestine!

Sierra McCormick (1997)

Lizeth Selene (1997) Mexican [Black and Unspecified Indigenous]- is genderfluid and queer (she/they).

Kiana Ledé (1997) African-American, Swedish, Mexican, Cherokee - has spoken up for Palestine!

Piper Curda (1997) Korean / English, Scottish - is apsec - has spoken up for Palestine!

Blu del Barrio (1997) Argentinian - is non-binary (they/them).

Chloé Hayden (1997) - is autistic, has ADHD, and is chronically ill.

Kiara Pichardo (1997) Dominican.

Evan Mock (1997) Bisaya Filipino / White.

Quintessa Swindell (1997) African-American / White - is non-binary (they/he) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Ayesha Madon (1998) Indian.

Julia Dalavia (1998) Brazilian.

MK xyz (1998) African-American / Filipino - is a lesbian and uses she/they.

Maya Hawke (1998)

Andy Blossom (1998) Chinese.

Chella Man (1998) Hongkonger and Jewish - is deaf, trans genderqueer and pansexual (he/they) - especially in Titans role - has spoken up for Palestine!

Zoe Terakes (2000) Greek Australian - is a trans masc non-binary guy (they/he) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Odessa A'zion (2000) Ashkenazi Jewish, English, some Irish, Northern Irish, Welsh, German - has spoken up for Palestine!

Paulina Alexis (2000) Nakoda Sioux.

Ruby Cruz (2000) - is queer.

Beabadoobee (2000) ilonggo Filipino / White.

D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai (2001) Ojibwe, Cree, Chinese Guyanese, Afro Guyanese and White.

Hey anon! I just want to make people aware that I don't reply to asks for "women and non-binary" faceclaims because people in the community like to treat non-binary people was "women lite" and It infuriates me to no end, but since you said preferably I'm more than happy to reply and I hope these suggestions help you! <3

[catgirlforeskin]

can you please stfu about forcemasc? 

i'm transfem and it has been a kink of mine FOR SEVERAL YEARS (mostly inside my head as fantasies because i was too afraid to verbalize it and share it with anybody [and with the way other transfems like you demonize it, i see why i kept these fantasies to myself for so long :/], and the recent boom in its popularity does make me happy, even if it comes from transmascs and not my own demographic. 

forcefem does nothing for me because i have been naturally feminine from a young age and openly displayed that femininity. unlike many other transfems, i never repressed my femininity and i refused to conform to standards of cishetero male masculinity. so the "force" part just turns me off, because there's no erotic appeal to forcing femininity on myself as a "release" for me. because i have been openly feminine since i could talk. 

however, from a young age, i did end up brewing a bitter resentment towards masculinity and men, mostly as a result of how boys and men treated me for refusing to be masculine and being feminine as an amab. 

i was already non-masculine by default, but their abuse and scorn as a reaction to that only made me despise masculinity and all things male even more. 

even though i don't believe misandry is real, i began calling myself "misandrist" and adopted radfem-lite beliefs (unsupervised internet access as a kid is a blessing and a curse at the same time). 

i began hating boys and men so much, which soon caused me a great deal of pain, because when puberty arrived, i discovered i was sexually and romantically attracted to them. 

this contradiction of being attracted to boys/men, but also hating them because i believed they were inherently cruel violent mean and evil caused me SO MUCH PAIN as a teenager, on top of the dysphoria i was already struggling with (luckily i had a pretty weak puberty but i was still dysphoric about my height). i felt like a hypocrite and a pathetic coward for falling in love with the same people who tormented me since i was a kid, because i thought all boys/men were violent and evil by default, because i thought that was what it meant to be a boy/man.  

what does this have to do with forcemasc?  

forcemasc is a fantasy for me. it's therapeutic for me. it makes me feel more comfortable in my skin. 

it's a "release" for me in the sense that enables me to let go of these unhealthy, hateful beliefs i've held since i was a child (which only end up hurting me), and also feel at peace and more accepting of my attraction to men, as well as discover new sides to who i am. 

the idea of trusting a partner enough and us being intimate enough for me to allow him to make me explore a more masculine side of myself when i am with him is a very powerful fantasy to me. not only do i feel at ease with his natural masculinity, but also with myself uncovering different aspects of my being which are masculine. and both of us are being masculine together in that moment and deepening our relationship that way, even though he is a man and i am still a trans woman. i trust him enough to display a more masculine side of myself around him. 

because imo, most people, regardless of gender, have both feminine and masculine traits. and even if i am 99% feminine and was completely avoidant of masculinity my entire life, the "forcemasc" kink is all about connecting with that 1% and deepening my bond with my male partner in the process.

you're a transbian so you don't understand it, but guess what? some of us are straight. some of us like men. i really hope that isn't what upsets you so much.

transfem experiences are not monolithic. even if i'm the only transfem in the world who likes forcemasc (which i highly doubt, but whatever), i deserve a space for my fantasies.

please don't rain on my parade.

I think “forcemasc” is a psyop to get more people to play Overwatch or something what even is this why are people suddenly yelling at me about it. I don’t care if people wanna have sex with cargo shorts on and fuck through the zipper.

That being said, straight sex is an unforgivable sin and any caught practicing it should be tied to the backs of horses and dragged through gravel

[quark-nova]

Do including t4t folks who date outside their gender include nblnb and nblm/nblw? Does it include people in these groups who are in an AMAB+AFAB relationship? IDK if this is tmi, I'm AMAB transneutral enby, my husband is a AFAB trans man. We've been together a decade , he's currently also pregnant: we're in the process of having a child. Whenever we bring up our relationship in t4t spaces, people either treat me like a cis man who doesn't belong in these spaces and as if our relationship is basically c4t MLM, or treat him as as a bi butch woman as opposed to a trans man especially when people found out he was pregnant and wasn't interested in his explicitly queer masculinity and transition making him identical to a cis man.

Plus, neither of us really pass due to how we present ourselves, I at most look like a flamboyant gay man, tall lanky hairy and bearded who plays around with makeup expression but doesn't gravitate towards feminine wear. He's gendered as a butch lesbian almost exclusively as opposed to a man, he doesn't bind which alone gets him misgendered, he wears masc clothing but a variety of factors in which he presents himself and even basic things such as how his voice sounds are enough for him to lose that association with manhood and gets him clocked. Do I need to be transfem and transition to look like a woman for our relationship to be seen as "t4t" enough? I'm not a trans woman or transfem and I'll never be, does that make me a cis invader incroaching on actual t4t people? Does he have to transition specifically in a way to fit cis centric standard of manhood, does he have to desire top and bottom surgery as opposed to "just" hormones in order to be seen as his actual gender in t4t spaces? Are t4t people not allowed to have children nautrally, does that makes us too close to cishets in their eyes for people's comfort?

We have mutual nblnb friends , same AMAB+AFAB, agender + multigender. Both of them present in ways that align with their AGAB, they're not men or women but their relationship in t4t spaces has been dismissed and treated as a "cishet relationship" constantly, with them being actively misgendered even in trans positive spaces. Are they just straight too, silly little cishets who want to hog up t4t resources from? Do t4t relationships only count as queer if they're binary/binary? If both people have the same gender? If people go through full medical transition? If they're both the same AGAB? What makes t4t inherently worthy in the eyes of people within the community, none of us are aware because we've all been actively excluded or dismissed for one reason or another, had our transness intrinsically erased due to not being the "expected" t4t couple.

The way people talk about t4t as this club which queerness is so narrow and if you fall out of what's expected for t4t you're basically straight? There are straight t4t people who are awesome and face their own isolation within queer spaces that I cannot speak on, so I won't. Having different AGABs or not being strictly MLM/WLW just feels like a quick way to get misgendered or to have your queerness and transness taken into question. It sucks. T4T is celebrated but only if you're a certian type of T4T.

Yes, both you and your friends should absolutely be included in T4T discussions! These are an extremely valuable experiences that you're bringing, and dismissing it as "c4t" or "cishet" is just misgendering. NB4NB relationships are not any less queer, and they're not "cishet lite" just for being of different AGABs - once more, it's reducing nonbinary people down to their AGAB, which is sad to see so often in queer/trans spaces.

I haven't been in T4T relationships myself so I can't comment on the isolation that some kinds of T4T relationships face, but it's absolutely true that some types get talked about more than others, creating unfair expectations for people whose relationships don't fit inside this norm. Which is sad, as subverting expectations of gender like you do is as queer as queer can be!