#going through a nasty identity crisis

[candywife333]

My Little Saesang (Part 1)

chubby reader x idol jungkook

Summary: Y/N had been a super fan for a while. Some would say bordering on saesang or creep level. She didn't think she was one, till she experienced an incident that made her stop being a fan. She had never thought that Jungkook or any of BTS ever noticed her, as she was part of the masses of obsessive fans. But they had. Especially, one doe eyed idol in particular. He never thought he would miss his fan, or shall we say saesang. Yet, he couldn't help but notice her absence. And he didn't know when her presence started to matter to him so much.

Disclaimer: The Jungkook represented in this fic does not reflect the true actions or thoughts of the real life Jungkook. Please treat this fic as exactly what it is, fiction

Triggers: Critique of fandom culture and kpop as a whole, identity crisis, eventual smut

Note: Not proofread. Slated to be approximately 4 parts or less.

"Y/N, what the hell are you still doing in that cafe? Didn't we come over here to spy on Jungkook at his house before he heads off to M-CountDown for his performance? I don't remember scheduling a pit-stop for you to have a second lunch", Kim-Hee glared down at me through her thick framed black glasses that honestly sort of made her look like a sexy principal. Anger at being diverted from her goal of catching the tan pop-star in his sweaty excellence seemed to cloud her vision.

I retorted back with a snort, "You know me very well at this point, after being my fellow saesang comrade in arms for close to 2 years girl. I am digesting my food baby as we speak and will soon be ready for delivery in that nasty garbage ass smelling toilet. I have a date with the shits, so to speak. Don't you see that my jeans are popped open and the zip down ready to go. I don't got the energy to chase this man today. Our stunt at New York was bad enough, don't you think"? Shaking my head at her idiocy even after knowing me for so long, I exclaimed, "Feel free to chase him in time for his ending fairy if you feel like it though. I am just not feeling it today".

Kim Hee, my bestie, stared at me with squinted eyes, black tiny eyes glittering in the harsh sun, "Girl, you were the one who had this all scheduled out a month back? How could you not bloody commit at the crucial time!!!! Our fucking junior fans are counting on your stupid ass". I waved my right at her in dismissal, ramen sauce covering my lips like a new Fenty lipstick that I just could not afford right now with my measly ass job as janitor at KBS.

I snarled back in irritation, "Tell those kids to go and study in college, that's more important than following his dumb ass anyways. He won't remember them for their troubles. At max, he will remember a few fans from their initial debut days , get married to a rich ass plasticky actress, have beautiful spoiled kids, and die a rich philanthropist. Saesangs don't get paid if you catch my point. Honestly, if it paid as a job, I would consider it. But I think I may have to retire". I patted my distended stomach in contentment, satisfied with the first proper meal I had in 3 days, stalking JK with my team all over New York and then catching a flight to Korea for his album showcase.

My bestie stared at me now in shock, with wide eyes, hands waving in the air, clearly confused at my statements, "Didn't you just say a week ago that this was all worth it? That supporting our faves, especially BTS, and the lord and savior himself , Jungkook, was a noble passion to pursue? Why have you suddenly done a 180 on us and him like this"? I flinched visibly at her reminder of what I used to be and who I used to be. The person she described felt foreign to me now. Ever since I opened my eyes and saw what fans, especially super fans like us, who didn't have a life outside of BTS suffered, I was a reformed woman. A reformed woman who had decided as of now to save all my money for some botox and a dental appointment, some clothes for mom and dad, and a hot meal for my younger sister. I was going to go from being a crysallis to a butterfly. In essence, I was going to woman the fuck up. That's what the fuck I was about to do with my life.

With this aim in mind, I slammed my fist against the plastic table, startling Kim Hee. "Bestie, you never got close enough to JK to see how much he hated it, okay? He hated us in those moments that we invaded his privacy. Remember that one time I snuck up on the set of them filming "Black Swan" to give him a godiva chocolate my mom had brought back from Sweden?" Kim Hee nodded in assent, clearly knowing how much of big deal it was for me to part with food of any kind, for any reason, for anyone (Even my own family). I loved luxury chocolate and food in general. Nobody could rip it out of my hands , as evidenced by Kim Hee and all our friends in middle school when I slapped a guy stupid and hit him in the nuts for taking a ferrero rocher out of my hands---the motherfucker.

I continued ,"Well I gave it to his hands while he was waiting outside at the entrance of the set. Even normies like me are allowed on that area, it was not a restricted filming area. I just left the chocolate next to where he was sitting, with a red bow (his name engraved on it) wrapped around it. He legit stared at me in confusion, like he had not seen me for the past 9 years, sneered at me, disdain in his beady black eyes and threw the chocolate in the dustbin like it was as figment of his imagination". Kim Hee stared at me in dismay, clearly knowing that what I considered the foremost cardinal sin in life was throwing away food, particularly expensive food.

I wrung my hands in the air, holding in my tears, "Bestie, it was white chocolate, do you understand? It was limited christmas edition. I could never afford that chocolate in my dreams , if not for one of mom's colleagues gifting it to her. Chili ,(my sister) was yapping about it for days, salivating, thinking she could bite into it. And I sacrificed it to an undeserving multi millionaire". I sat back down on the bench, numbly, tears streaming down my face. I was so done with him and the entire group at this point. I understand that what we do, Saesangs, stalkers, whatever they like to call us, is not correct. We should not be so invasive. But I always told the kids who followed in my footsteps that we could support them, but just not to the point that we impinged on their personal lives. I had done some fucked up things as a newbie army, but two years into their debut, I understood that limits were required.

The most I had ever done since then, was to gift the members things as a fan. Whatever I could afford. Whether that was their favorite convenience store snack left by us on the set of one of their music video shoots. Or a pack of gum or their favorite desserts when we attended fan meets. I and the girls who followed me on these adventures, as I used to call them, never snuck into HYBE. We were of the more benign variety, not on par with the crazies who took the same flight as them (not that I could afford that), or collected saliva, sweat, and urine samples. For goodness sakes, we didn't even run after their vehicles, we just waved politely and jumped up and down like rabid dogs that had treats waved in their faces.

The moment I was compelled to stop following my fave, or I guess my former bias as of now, was simply when he casually looked at the chocolate I had left next to him as though it were poison, and tossed it in the trash without looking back. That was when I knew, I was worthless in his eyes, along with the rest of the fans who tried so hard.

We shelled out money saved up from little jobs and pocket money accumulated for months together, to buy expensive albums, merchandise, and anything else they put out. We forgo the little luxuries like nicer shoes and warmer coats in winter to buy tickets for outdoor showcases and shiver in the cold wind to just catch a glimpse of one of their half smiles. We stream their music that speaks of love that we do not comprehend, love whose face is so unfamiliar in our youth that we would pass it by as though it were a stranger. When we don't have anyone in our lives to hug us and hold us and kiss us, to wipe our tears and pat us on the back when we are down and to tell us that everything will be alright, we stare at them in the tabloids extrapolating who they could be in love with, fantasizing about a love that could never be ours. We live our lives, living for them, living around them as though we are satellites caught int he orbit of a bigger planet, and now, it does not make sense to me anymore.

It may just be a chocolate, stupid worthless and insignificant to him. It may be cheap, a show of cheap love that he wishes to spit on. But it wasn't cheap to me. My love wasn't cheap. Food isn't cheap, especially food bestowed with love. And I was done giving my love away for free, as though it meant nothing. As though it were a cheap cigarette to be smoked and discarded, ground under the foot of someone who had finished using it for a fleeting high. Cheap and dispensable and convenient, that's what we were, what I had become.

I cringed internally as my gaze redirected towards Kim Hee. I croaked out in determination while chewing on the remnants of soggy ramyun, "We are done babe. I am through with this horrible, parasitic relationship. I am going to figure out how to make myself rich or get rich through marriage. I am done being stupid, falling over myself for a guy or a group of guys who don't see or appreciate me. They get rich on my desperation, and I don't wish to give them that power anymore".

[annabelle--cane]

Hello!

You’ve said that you fly on planes pretty often… As someone who’s never been on a plane before, could you tell me about what it’s like riding in a plane for the first time/some things you’ve learned to do to make it an easier experience?

Hope you’ve been doing well <3

with the qualifiers that while I used to fly a lot, I haven't since late 2019 + different airlines have extremely varying standards for comfort + I'm white and able bodied so there are a lot of common concerns that I've never had to think about:

-> being in an airport is first and foremost about waiting around and doing nothing. you queue to check your bag, you queue to go through security, you sit at your gate for a while after the inevitable delays to your takeoff time, you wait for your boarding group to be called, you queue in the group itself to get on the plane, eventually you queue to get off the plane, you queue to go through customs, and then you wait while staring aimlessly at some kind of hypnotic carousel of nearly identical black suitcases to collect your checked luggage. you can either gaslight yourself into believing that there is enjoyment to be found in waiting in huge lines or you can lose yourself to the queue madness.

-> speaking of the hypnotic bag carousel, it'll be easier to pick out your checked bags on sight if they're more distinct looking. if you've got some brightly colored suitcases, use those, otherwise they might pass you by three times before you spot them.

-> if you have a tendency to get car sick or sea sick or anything then I'd recommend bringing some anti nausea medication, in my experience most flights aren't particularly bumpy but better safe than sorry. plane bathrooms can be kinda nasty, if you're concerned about hygiene then you might want to bring some surface wipes. they tend to blast the AC, and the blankets they give out are static electricity central, so I'd recommend wearing a good jacket/cardigan and maybe bringing a small TSA approved(tm) sized bottle of hand cream.

-> if something about the processes of bag checking, security, boarding, customs, etc. is confusing you, you'll likely be in a group of dozens of people trying to do the same thing and you can ask around to see if someone if willing to explain.

-> your airline will probably tell you how early before your flight you should to get to the airport, and I would always advise arriving even earlier than that. ex., I've had a lot of experiences where getting there three hours before an international flight was technically enough time, but I had to rush everything and only got to my gate at the last minute. I would a hundred times over prefer to window shop in the expensive tech stores on the other side of security for half an hour than have to book it with my carry on down a huge backrooms looking empty hallway just to barely make it in time.

-> this could easily be a me thing but I've found the version of myself that exists on airplanes only wants to entertain herself with activities that I would never consider with my feet on solid ground. I enter an airplane and suddenly voraciously want to do a crossword and listen to europop. basically, if you're nervous about the flying itself, then I'd suggest planning to do something fun and kind of novel so you can have something a bit special to look forward to.

-> if you've got a window seat, look out the window! look at your city from above and either have an existential crisis or develop a god complex, it's great. watching a sunrise while flying over the ocean is basically like inventing a religion.

[creature-wizard]

I figured I might as well talk about my story when I was more heavily involved in the entire Law of Attraction community growing up.

So when I was younger, I was like really susceptible and shit and I think I still am but I'm getting better. Eventually, I ended up getting caught up in the entire 'make your life the way you want it' and the 'you deserve better' praxis. Not bad at first, but it eventually started getting worse with the entire issue of 'what is a negative and a positive emotion'. I have depression, some days are just bad and I struggle holding a picture positive mindset. Add onto that the entire bullying thing and I ended up becoming dependent on it because 'maybe if I just change one thing then it'll get better' and what not.

Vulnerability lead to me getting involved with a few different groups, one of them was the Lighthouse Summit, and that entire Violet Flame thing which I ended up leaving because it just didn't vibe right for me. That made me feel worse because I had all these ideas, all these concepts and it was shit trying to take them and make them work for me. You get told about mental and emotional blockages all the time, hypnosis and meditations get thrown at you and you end up trying everything in an attempt to get something to move, then there's the guilt of not being good enough, or the entire issue of maybe the Universe has it out for me.

That entire guilt and seeking out something impacted everything else. I ended up struggling with my personal religion, my identity and all that jazz, and as a queer kid who's already trying to find out who they are, that was a fun ride.

Eventually, a few years later, I realized that I was going to have to do shit myself. So, I ended up having to pick up all those broken pieces left behind because you tear yourself apart for everything in an attempt to find out what triggers those movements, those 'energetic alignments to the 4D 5D 420-69D'. It was shit, and I had to go through hell in a handbasket and that only became an issue because, as one might expect, everyone on every side is against people who try to pursue some sense of religion or another that isn't purely based in this pseudo-liberation ideal.

I had to work to try and unlearn all that stuff, or at least take it and use it as a fulcrum to get my stuff done. It was a lot, to say the least. Now, I'm here. I'm doing better, I still occasionally get the crisis of maybe I'm just a bad person, or maybe I should try and not use the 'negative' thoughts to keep moving but it's one step at a time. Anyway, you live and you learn. I guess that's why I'm so finnicky with a lot of groups.

You really do have to be careful about which groups you get into; you never know which ones are going to pull you into some incredibly nasty shit.

I'm glad you're getting better, and I wish you the best of luck in future recovery!

[ohtobeleah]

So Dot and and Chase are the oldest dagger kids right? So do they stay friends while growing up?? Aw they are gonna be the first to go to prom and graduate high school and college (if they go) aww little babies all grown up!!!

Terms of Endearment Masterlist

I haven’t specifically mentioned it but Chase is four to Odettes two/almost three. So he’s always kinda like the slightly older guys that’s always looking out for her. Best friends.

Even though in their childhood they’re really close and play together all the time I think in highschool when Dot goes through her identity crisis she’d pushes Chase away. And because he likes her, he does what most guys who have a crush on a girl do. He starts ignoring her, tells his buddies she’s weird because let’s face it, Odette Bradshaw is weird. She’s the girl who spends her time at lunch hanging out under the bleachers in her own solitary because it’s the only place she can smoke without being caught and Chase Fitch is captain of every single sport team.

So despite their long running history they just stop talking and when they do talk it’s nasty. Until one day Dot is barging her way into the boys locker room after Chase is finished football practice and all the boys are whistling and hollering and just being idiots.

“Dot!” Chase is gasping as she pulls the shower curtain back and just stands there watching Chase scrabble to cover his junk. “Jesus Mary and Joseph what are you doing in here!”

Odette is so mad that she balls her fist and smacks Chase right in the nose.

“Ahh! The fuck! What!? What did I do!?”

“You told Mr. Carson I was smoking under the bleachers and now I’ve got an afternoon detention!” Yes. Chase did do that, but only because he knew that Mr. Carson would take her smokes, he just wanted her to stop that awful habit. “The fuck? Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t!” Chase is sticking with that series of events. “Christ I didn’t—!�� He’s cupping his nose, bleeding underneath the stream of water coming out of the shower head as one hand still cups his junk. “God you crazy bitch I didn’t do anything! Get out of the guy’s locker room!”

Dot knows it was Chase because Mr. Carson told her it was him. So she just leaves, angry as all hell because this guy she’d known all her life turned out to be a real dick. So she takes his spark plug from his car, the car he just got his permit to drive.

When Chase finally gets home, way later than he he should have been home because he had to get a lift with a friend—he’s walking up to the front door to see his spark plug sitting there, Rooster and Payback are enjoying a beer on the patio swing that had just about had it and was ready to fall apart.

“Woah, who gave you the shiner?” Paybacks asking his son when he groans to pick up the missing spark plugs. Chase just sighs, his shoulders slump and he just word vomits.

“Your deadbeat daughter smokes cigarettes under the bleachers so I told Mr. Carson and he gave her an afternoon detention—I think she broke my nose.” Bradley just sits there, he knew that Dot smoked, he just didn’t know she was doing it at school.

“Why don’t you and my deadbeat daughter just admit that you like each other?” Chase just stands there speechless. “You used to eat snails in the sandpit together—“

“You know what?” Chase just groans. “Fine—I like her alright! But she can smoke herself to death for all I fucking care—bitch is crazy, you know she walked straight into the guys locker room? Who does that!”

Payback and Rooster just laugh, they know exactly who does that and exactly where Odette Bradshaw got that from.

“Her mother—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~****~***~***~***

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb

[shiplessoceans]

Izzy and Ricky both having lost something of themselves, Izzy's leg, Ricky's nose. Both believing it's Ed and Stede's doing. Izzy being a veteran pirate legend who's going through an identity crisis and Ricky being a frustrated, upper class lover of pirate fantasy tales and wanting to live a different kind of life.

So...they're either gonna kill each other or fuck nasty, which one?

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Y’know given Hua Cheng’s shapeshifting and Shi Qingxuan’s shapeshifting and He Xuan’s shapeshifting and the kingdom of Xianle prizing androgyny and Xie Lian’s total blasé attitude about when people confuse him for a woman

I feel like maybe my Wei Clan don’t… do… gender?

Like. I think after a few generations of being surrounded by all this gender fuckery from all directions — especially when you know the girls would be raised with just as much freedom and indulgence as the boys — I feel like eventually everybody’s gender identity would be best described as a shrug. The Wei know what gender society Expects them to be, and for their own convenience they typically just go along with that, but it doesn’t actually have any weight for them.

Wei Changze doesn’t like the way makeup feels on his (their?) face but he likes when he gets to leave the Jiang sect and go home for holidays and stuff because it means they get to wear pretty dresses.

The family’s perspective on other peoples’ genders is that like. If you tell me your name is Familyname Givenname, and your favorite color is orange, and you really like lychee, and you are a woman, It is not my place to say “no, you’re wrong” about any of that.

Like, gender to them os very much a societal role, and those roles don’t apply to them, but it’s sort of like… occupations? This musician is a woman. She does musician things, like compose her own music, and perform for audiences, and maintain her instrument of choice. She does woman things, like manage the house’s finances, and cook, and wear makeup. Those are all fine, good things for a person to do, and we wish her as much success in her career as a woman as we do her success in her career as a musician.

The only time Wei Changze ever cared much about gender was after meeting Cangse Sanren, when he felt the spark, realized instantly she was his destined one, and then just as quickly realized he was gonna have to somehow explain this stuff to her and oh god people who aren’t of Xianle get Weird about this what if she thinks it’s creepy or gross oh no

(Of course CSSR is super interested and curious and lowkey turned on and it is the complete opposite of an issue)

It is so, so much weirder for Wei Wuxian, who was kidnapped and presumed dead for the first seventeen some-odd years of his life, and was very much raised As A Man. Not only does meeting his long lost family send him down an identity crisis for all of the obvious “what do you mean I’m half-undead Ghost Royalty” reasons, but it ALSO sends him down a gender crisis, which happens right on the heels of his sexuality crisis re: realizing that LWJ is his Destined Other, which then tucks neatly into yet another crisis because LWJ already barely likes him (them?????) will he be able to handle it if Wei Wuxian is also kind of a girl sometimes??? Would he like it better if Wei Wuxian is always a girl???? Is that even and option or does Wei Wuxian need to stop doing gender entirely??????? He doesn’t know how to do that???????????

(Wei Wuxian does not, in fact, need to make any changes or choices with regards to his gender if he does not want to, nobody is gonna pressure him, but the kid is going through a lot in a very short amount of time and the spiral is probably going to be cathartic, so let him have a breakdown. He deserves it.)

(Of course, LWJ does a lot more than “barely like” WWX, and once the gender thing is explained to him he does a lot more than just “handle it.” He is supportive and eager to learn and understand and, of course, as always, kind of horny about it. He ends up deciding he has a Thing for WWX in slinky nightgowns, and they have lots of weirdly tender, nasty, disrespectful sex about it.)

[nyikondlovu]

Seeing a lot of “Louis was wrong for bringing up Lestat’s insecurity” and not enough “Lestat was wrong for not seeing that Louis is black first and foremost.” Hell, he calls the people of Storyville “MY people.”

It goes beyond wanting to still be human, it’s Louis watching an entire area that kept black people fed and where they lived burn to the ground because people hate how his race looks and how his killing of that white racist played a part, no matter how small, in the destruction.

Louis is black before he’s a vampire. Louis is going through a crisis of identity outside of humanity atp. Racial issues, his family has ousted him, he lost the business that kept employees who have been by his side for years employed and now, as far as he knows, his partner doesn’t think him enough.

He was nasty for using Lestat’s deepest insecurity against him or trying to put blame on Lestat for his actions but he is NOT doing it simply because he doesn’t love Lestat, he has his own fucking things going on and his WHITE partner is not willing to see WHY the destruction of Storyville and segregation would affect Louis the way it does.

Lestat has the privilege of being white and rich before being a vampire, Louis does not because no matter how much money he has or businesses or moral dilemmas, he will always be seen as inferior by an entire race.

If you don’t wanna get why he’s devastated, I have news for you.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Logan Lancing

Published: Feb 28, 2024

People who have escaped cults all tell a similar story. That story starts with a desire to belong, coupled with a desire for purpose. Strong familial and social bonds are generally preferable to shaky relationships, isolation, and the feeling of being an outcast. Likewise, feeling like one’s life lacks any meaning or purpose is a recipe for anxiety, depression, or even madness. If you talk to people who have escaped cults, they all tell you that they didn’t set out to join a cult—the cult set out to prey on them, offering to fill the voids that we must all grapple with, to varying degrees, throughout our lives. The cult offers inclusion, affirmation, and a secret cult knowledge of life’s purpose. All one must do is take the leap of faith.

Cults are incredibly effective for a variety of reasons, most of which is their ability to lead initiates deeper into the cult, even when those initiates start to sense that the “inclusion,” “affirmation,” and “purpose” offered to them comes with some very nasty conditions and ultimatums. Cult survivors describe how difficult it is to stop placing one foot in front of the other when the cult has total control of one’s physical, social, and emotional environments. Cults work tirelessly to control all information entering an initiate’s eyes and ears. Cults control the books you can read, the news you can watch, the organizations you can trust, the experts you must listen to, and the people you confide in. The cult environment is one of endless propaganda designed to be so effective that one loses control of their own thoughts; loses control over the voice in their head.

Once an initiate finds themselves in the cult’s totalizing environment (see Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism by Robert Jay Lifton) the cult lifts the veil of love, affirmation, and inclusion and reveals a cycle of psychological abuse designed to drag the initiate deeper into the cult’s doctrine. This abuse is justified through a language of purity—initiates must let go of all the bad influences and contamination of their former lives, revealing their deepest secrets through ritual confessions. The point is to strip the initiate down, leaving them totally vulnerable and exposed. Only then can the cult rebuild the initiate in the cult’s image.

Cult survivors will tell you that they often didn’t know they were in a cult until someone pierced the cult’s totalizing environment with a message from the outside; a tether to a long-lost reality; an invitation to step back into the real world. The Queering of the American Child is one such tether, and I hope parents nationwide will receive the message loud and clear: Education is in the grip of a religious cult—the Queer Cult.

Now, I don’t mean “queer” as in “gay” or “lesbian” or “bisexual.” I mean “queer” as it is defined in the academic literature of the Queer Cult’s doctrine: Queer Theory.

Unlike gay identity, which, though deliberately proclaimed in an act of affirmation, is nonetheless rooted in the positive fact of object-choice, queer identity need not be grounded in any positive truth or in any stable reality. As the very word implies, “queer” does not name some natural kind or refer to some determinate object; it acquires its meaning from its oppositional relation to the norm. Queer is by definition whatever is at odds with the normal, the legitimate, the dominant. There is nothing in particular to which it necessarily refers. It is an identity without an essence.[1] (Halperin, 1995, p. 62, italics in original)

Our children are “experiencing the queer,” as Queer Educational Activist Kevin Kumashiro explains in his 2009 book, Against Common Sense: Teaching and Learning Toward Social Justice (2nd edition). Specifically, our children are experiencing the “queer” because they have been purposefully placed in a state of psychological crisis. “Crisis,” Kumashiro says, “should be expected in the process of learning, by both the student and the teacher. Like queer activism, queer teaching always works through crisis…the goal is to continue teaching and learning through crisis—to continue experiencing the queer.”[2] (Kumashiro, 2009, p. 55)

The Queer Cult has total control of our national discourse as it relates to sex, “gender,” and sexuality. Our children are fed a steady diet of cult doctrine through mainstream media, social media, popular culture, the psychiatrists they consult, and the doctors their parents trust. Not least of which, our children attend schools that universally push the idea that children can be “born in the wrong body.” America’s children learn that they have “gender identities” that might not match their “sex assigned at birth.” A Medical Industrial Complex waits in the wings with irreversible puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones, and “gender affirming” surgeries.

The social and emotional pressures to conform to the Queer Cult’s corrupted understanding of reality are hard to bear. Most people know that “radical gender ideology” is insane, but they go along with it because they don’t want to be considered a “bad person,” “on the wrong side of history,” or worst of all, a “conservative.” The cult’s moral extortion racket is designed to drag us deeper into their agenda; deeper into what Queer Activist Michael Warner calls a “queer planet.”[3] However strong the pressure may be, we must remain tethered to reality—not only for ourselves, but especially for our children. As we say in the book,

[Queer Activists] believe they can arrest the steering wheel of History and drive us all off the ledge. Under normal circumstances, all of this nonsense would be cause for endless mockery and laughter. Unfortunately, Queer Activists have proved to be remarkably effective. Today, they already have one hand on the wheel, and our kids are in the car.[4]

In The Queering of the American Child you will learn what Queer Theory is, where it comes from, how it got into schools, and what it’s attempting to do with your children. You will learn that Queer Theory has nothing to do with helping gay kids, and nothing to do with helping troubled children feel “included” in a healthy set of societal norms. Letting the cultists speak for themselves, Dr. James Lindsay and I bring in hundreds of citations to lay bare the Queer Cult’s agenda. Our schools are initiating children into the Queer Cult through psychological manipulation and child abuse. What you read will shock you, and that’s a good thing. Welcome back to reality.

--

References

[1] Halperin, D. M. (1995). Saint Foucault: Towards a gay hagiography. Oxford University Press. (p. 61) [2] Kumashiro, K. K. (2009). Against Common Sense: Teaching and Learning Toward Social Justice (2nd ed.). Routledge. (p. 55) [3] Warner, M. (1991). Introduction: Fear of a queer planet. Social Text, (29), 3–17. [4] Lancing, L. and Lindsay, J (2024) The Queering of the American Child: How A New School Religious Cult Poisons the Minds and Bodies of Normal Kids. New Discourses. (p. 65)

[our-demigirl-experience]

Submitted this to a few more blogs but I thinking im getting most accuracy here, from what i've seen around:)

Hey

Asking for advice as I'm going through another [sparkle sparkle] gender crisis [uiii ]

So I tend to present really androgynously/masc most of the days. It's comfortable, it's not tight fitting, it looks eccentric, you can't tell I'm afab so bonus points, and it feels like me.

On those days I just go by they/them. In my mind. I'm not out, mind you. My parents aren't supportive. :')

But then I have days when I'm fine with people she/her-ing me. Even tho I present the same way, because it feels good.

And then there are days when I dress like a dude and act like the most fem person ever.

Then there are days when I totally switch up my style, go from loose baggy men's jeans and overshirts to the classic flared jean and crop top and I'm definitely a girl. Except for when I decide I'm uncomfortable and just switch up, go to the bathroom, put my binder on, gel my hair and start acting like a dude dressed in girls' clothes. [A little note:I started carrying a few men's items like cologne and gel at first for fun and to spruce up my looks whenever I need some confidence, but yeah they've been life savers :] ]

Then I don't even bother with pronouns, people are just going to assume whatever ig.

And then there are days when being called a girl is just straight up offensive and I just hate all the hair on my head and need to shave it but then I don't feel he/him, because boy is also nasty those days and I'm just an angry gremlin and idk.

And then there are days when I love flowery patterns and knitwear and those hippie round hats(not beanies, idk what they're called. The ones that look like a fishmonger's staple piece and are a sort of floppy downsides) and I love menswear those days but paired with dresses and sometimes makeup and sometimes shorts and it's all weird and genderfuck and I just don't bother.

Then there are days when I just play with my appearance for fun, not because of gender but because it's also how I express myself and idk.

...Basically I just broke my gender and now it's also a style somehow but not always and it's so frigged up. And I've done my research and the top labels would be one of the demis or genderfluid but meh

And I'm mostly sure I'm not bigender/trigender/pangender etc because it doesn't resonate and also I never got this thing with half a gender or more than one, I just thought demi-s at first because it leaves room for parts and bits that don't really fit. And I also dunno if what troubles me is my gender or my style as binarised and if I'm reffering to stuff correctly because SINCE WHEN IS GENDER SO COMPLICATED MOST PEOPLE DON'T EVEN THINK ABT ITT whyyyy

And I'm usually fine with being called a girl but !not! with being feminine and I feel like ~ meh~ and I want a dude's body and stubble, yeah, stubble would be cool.

And I think that when I was a kid I never particularly cared, I mean I was tomboyish sometimes but not always and it usually depended on the environment. And yeah I hated dresses but now I don't and being called a girl never gave me pause but now it does and it is uncomfortable too.

And I'm also thinking it's just me overthinking everything because nothing EVER gave me pause until my pinterest insisted "yeah ur trans" because of my more masc style and I was like "fine let's see. I might get rid of the soft fem outfits in my feed" and it was a downwards spiral.

And I had been warned that after questioning ur sexuality comes gender identity and I said "I'm fine, I'm just nonconforming cis" and now idk nothing makes sense anymore.

I'm sorry if this is triggering at all to anyone, with my binarised thinking and stuff but thing is: IM NOT OUT YEYY(not that I'd know what to come out as and not that my family would support me :l ). That's how people perceive me. And I just want to give a picture of what caused me to be questioning.

I know it's a lot to handle, but advice? :)

And also some fashion tips. :))

Tyssm <3

I get it! Gender can be really confusing. My main advice is to test out using different labels to find out which one you like the most! And for fashion, it really depends on your style!! Pinterest can be really helpful for things like this. Good luck <3

[marcelllyn]

Unexpected proposal

I think I'm obsessed with Dean Winchester and I don't blame myself for that, because he's so… Maybe this will become a fanfic with more chapters, depending on my mood. Language: English (is not my first language). Synopsis: Colette is an old friend of Dean who is going through an identity crisis. When meeting Dean again at a diner, he ends up making an unexpected proposal. Warnings: Nothing but cute. Nasty review.

I was sitting there in a diner that smelled like old grease, drinking the worst coffee of my life. A cup of coffee and soggy toast with sour jam. Observing the people passing by on the street, every time a person in a suit or dressed in a work uniform passed by, my chest sank. Everything seemed so far from reality, as if I were a leftover piece of the puzzle of life. And let's face it, living off his father's inheritance wasn't going to be a good thing forever.

I needed a job, even though being a waitress, a store attendant, a dishwasher was getting repetitive, I wasn't able to keep a job, and I also couldn't finish any of the three colleges I started, money wasted.

Focused on the street, taking small sips of coffee, the world seemed to slow down when a black Impala parked in front of the diner. My memory wandered to simpler times.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, remembering the memory of driving an old friend's Impala, the way his face looked disappointed when I scratched a little on his car. How could I fall madly in love with someone that day.

I opened my eyes, took another sip of that greasy coffee, -How must he be today? -I thought. I imagine that Sam, one of my few friends from school, must be going to college, now his brother, the feeling that even if he wanted to he would never be able to leave that life. Life I've always been interested in, ever since I met Sam eating alone in the cafeteria when he was twelve and invited him to my house for cookies almost every day after school.

When he and his brother disappeared after spending two months in the city, I remember being devastated and crying for a few weeks before I got over that I would never see them again. Well, I saw them again five years later when I moved away.

I woke up from my trance of memories when the entrance bell rang. My eyes widened when I saw him, majestically well, adjusting his leather jacket, running his hand through his blond hair. I could feel my jaw wanting to drop, his beauty was always jaw-dropping, it's no wonder my sister already had it. My stomach knotted, maybe from the coffee, maybe from the spoiled jam.

Dean leaned against the counter, I wish I could go over there and maybe say hi, but at least I know if he remembers me, and even if he did, what would he talk about? My life hasn't changed much since the last time we saw each other. The only big change was that I was now more like some kind of current nomad.

I stared at the cup, I felt embarrassed that I didn't have anything innovative to say.

—I can not believe. — That charming and mocking voice took over me.

I pictured Dean, smiling like a fool.

— Colette Schmidt!, or rather, Lety! — He leaned on the table. — I could recognize you from a thousand meters away, with that huge nose.

I snorted and motioned for him to sit in the yellow armchair in front of me, and he did so. I could hug him, but I knew he was never a fan of hugs or touching in general.

I narrowed my eyes, taking in every point of her beauty.

— He's older. — I commented.

— And that's the first thing you say to an old friend? - He laughed. — I'm still at my peak.

— And when haven't you been? — My smile was big, he could make me smile like an idiot just by looking at me. — Where have you been?

— Around— His vague answer left me unsatisfied, I lightly kicked his calf under the table. — I was walking around with Baby, no big deal, you know.

— Is Sam with you?

— I'm going to see him at college, can you believe he's really going to college? — He said with a slight frown.

— Sam was always smart, you'd imagine. — I took a sip. — Hunting?

He wrinkled his nose and said:

— Do I need to answer? — He said with a harsh tone.

I shook my head.

— What is the name of the college?

—Stanford University. — He measured me with his gaze. — Did you let your hair grow?

— And I stopped straightening. — I could have run my hand through my curls if my hand hadn't been so greasy.

— It was very beautiful. What are you working with?

I swallowed hard, I shouldn't be ashamed to expose my situation to Dean, I mean, he could never judge, after all, he's not in a position to do so. But I was afraid he would look at me with disappointment, the same way he looked at me when he was teaching me how to drive and I scratched Baby by accident, that look was fatal.

— I'm not doing anything at the moment.

Dean groaned in pleasure when the waitress placed his plate of waffles and some fruit on the table.

— And why aren't you working? — He put a piece of strawberry in his mouth.

— I don't find anything that interests me, everything seems futile. Something common people do, you know? — I provoked.

— Have you ever tried being a stripper? — He smiled with his mouth full.

I let out a satisfying laugh, one that I had been holding back for a long time.

— You know that I wouldn't even be able to do it if I wanted to, you've already seen me dancing.

— As your prom date, I say that you, in addition to being the first person who made me wear a suit, were the first person who also managed to make me end up in the hospital for stepping on my foot.

— Imagine doing a twirl on a stick? — As soon as he said it, Dean started looking at the ceiling with a satisfied look on his face.

— And what lingerie would you be wearing, in detail? — His eyes closed tightly as he bit his lower lip.

I took the opportunity to grab a strawberry from his plate.

— A pair of Scooby-Doo panties, a bra with images of severed heads.

He glared at me.

— Ruined the costume, even though the Scooby-Doo panties weren't the worst thing. — He stuffed a forkful of waffles inside. —But the way you are, it's quite possible that you'll hit some innocent person in the face with your heel.

I tried to get another strawberry and Dean looked at me like a rabid dog and patted my hand three times. We were silent for a few minutes, his eyes narrowed. The silence began to become uncomfortable as he chewed like a hungry child.

— It's strange, seeing you like this, meeting you again after five years. — He commented.

— Yes, it's thinking that in the past, well, it's… Never mind. — He shook his head, shaking off his thoughts.

He knew where he wanted to go, but that whole thing should stay in the past.

— I haven't changed much other than my hair and some tattoos.

— That's not exactly what I meant. — His eyes widened. — Calm down, did you say tattoos?

— I made some. — I lifted the sleeve of my blouse. Showing a small tattoo of the Metálica band logo. — It's a little cheesy, but I really like the band.

His face turned white as if a ghost had just walked past me, which would be harmful if it weren't for Dean Winchester.

— Who are you and what did you do with the real Collete? — He held my arm gently. — You hated Metálica!

I smiled like a fool again. His hand wasn't exactly soft, but it was definitely a good session.

— I was very strange.

I let him finish eating, the closer he got to finishing, the more an emptiness began to appear in my stomach, a feeling of abandonment. I would rather never see him again if he were to leave on the same day, on the same morning. At least the last time, Dean knocked on my door at one o'clock in the morning with Sam to say goodbye. The second game was the one that hurt the most, after all they had stayed by my side for a whole year, but apparently their father had decided to leave the city in a hurry. He wiped his mouth on his napkin once he was done.

— Anyway, where are we going now?

My gaze lit up.

— What?

— Take a drive, talk until we get tired of talking.

He gets up, leaving an insulting tip, and we leave that disgusting diner.

♡

Dean then did something unimaginable, he opened the car door so I could get in.

— This is new. — I mocked.

— Don't get used to it.

I got in the car, it felt like time had stopped. Dean sat down on the bench and started the car.

— Where do you want to go?

— I have no idea. — I looked at the back seats. — Is that a pair of panties?

— I swear it's not mine. — He grabbed my face and turned it forward. — I didn't know I would have visitors today.

— Didn't you have time to hide the panties that your lovers leave as souvenirs? — I scoffed.

—exactly! — He put a tape on the radio.

— Wow, do you know it's the 2000s?

— Shut up. — Your hand covers my mouth. — I want to see where you live.

I looked at him suspiciously, he was always a mystery, he was never very open, but there are things that never change.

—Dean. — He said suspiciously.

— Don't be like that. — He pouted. — I just want to see your house, without ulterior motives.

I nodded.

♡

I guided him to my house, a small apartment in an area that looked like Batman would be murdered if he stepped foot in that place.

—No judgement. — I covered his eyes while I opened the door. — And take off your shoes.

— This hallway smells of so many things. — He mocked.

I opened the door and the smell of lavender entered my nostrils like a perfume bomb.

— Everything is so tidy. — He threw himself on the sofa. — A living room with a view of Gotham, a kitchen and a bedroom.

— I don't need much. I don't even spend that much time here anyway.

Dean got up walking down the small hallway, ignored the bathroom and went directly to my room.

— Cute room. — Throw yourself on the bed.

— Dean, those dirty clothes on my bed! — I mumbled, laying down next to him.

— Your bed is more uncomfortable than the seat in my car.

— The sofa is more comfortable, I admit.

He pulls me to him, I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

— Ready for a question bomb?

—Ever…

— Is the rent up to date?

— Yes.

— Falling in love? Or a very close friend?

— No. — That was sad, all my friends were going away or dying.

— You don't have a job and nothing keeping you here, why don't you just leave?

—And where would I go?

— You could go with me to Sam's college and then see if he likes anything there.

I sat up in bed, blinking repeatedly quickly.

— You are crazy.

— I thought you already knew. — Laughed. — Seriously, your company would be good and I hate seeing how unhappy you look.

— Dean, it's been almost five years since we've seen each other and now you're asking me to give up everything I have to go traveling with you?

— You only live once, and, in fact, we could go without seeing each other for ten years and still, when we saw each other, it would be the same as the last time.

— But this is crazy. — I sat on the bed. — You're a hunter, and I have a life, an apartment.

— Lety, you have an apartment, but not a life, that's survival. — He snorted. — You know, fate, even if I don't believe it, may have made me go to that diner that smells of old grease just to meet you again.

— That was the biggest nonsense you've ever said to me.

— I know. — He murmured. - Accept my invitation?

— Promise not to hunt on the way?

— Only in case of emergency. — He sat down on the bed. — Speaking of hunting, do you still remember some of the things I taught you?

— Of course, it’s impossible to forget. — My body shivers with the memories. — I remember everything you ever taught me. — I murmured. — I need some time to think about your proposal.

— It just won't take long, I'm starting to get worried about Baby.

Jumping out of bed, he started rummaging through my closet.

— Where are there towels here?

— Third drawer.

He opened the third drawer, and looked at me with a mischievous smile.

— Stop looking at my panties!

While Dean took a shower, my mind worked on the possibility of going with Dean, but my rational side begged me to continue my mediocre life. How I wanted to say yes, but leaving all my comfort to go to another city and then being aimless seemed crazy.

The noise of the shower stopped, Dean appeared in front of me without a shirt, focused on putting on the belt of his jeans. My mind seemed to be stopping, his tattoo showed on my chest, I remembered that I have one like it on my chest. Through his pure influence.

— Have you made up your mind?

— Why do you want to visit Sam?

— Family thing.

— What am I going to do when I get there?

— There will be things, believe me. Don't worry so much.

— What kind of things?

His face fell and he sighed deeply.

— I'm just worried about not having enough money.

— Your father gave you a lot of money, I imagine, you'll manage.

I sighed. I wanted to go with him, I really wanted to. I loved his presence, it would be nice to spend time with him and Sam again.

— I think that's it. — I shrugged. — I will, but no sleeping with women in the car. I will not sleep on the same bench where you fornicated.

— The car is mine. — He mocked. — No driving, no eating in the car.

— But what if you're sleepy?

— Then I'll stop so we can sleep.

I opened a smile, looking at her belly, I felt a tingling sensation. Get rid of this feeling as soon as possible.

— Help me pack my bag, I’m terrible at organization.

— Unfortunately, as I'm going to drive, I have to take a nap. So, when you're done, let me know and make sure Baby is okay every five minutes, okay?

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

My darling, 

T– my ally has kept me quite busy as of late. I’m sorry I haven’t had a moment to write. It reminds me of my old life, you know – being bogged down with old parchment and books in a dusty old room and making too many assumptions educated guesses. I took note of the poem and have been raking through every text I can find. 

Has our ally told you? About Gale, I mean. 

We think he’s…well, we all but know he’s become…a lich. 

Actually, not entirely – not yet, I hope – but mostly, a lich. If he hasn’t yet created a phylactery - a soul fracture hidden somewhere safe - then we should be able to get through to him. I’m sorry I haven’t caught up on our correspondence; my eyes grow quite weary after hours of roving over pages and pages of words I can barely make sense of. If he’s figured out a phylactery, however, we just have to find whatever it is that’s holding it, and destroy it. It will weaken him only for a moment, but then he’ll be ours for the taking.

Do you understand what this means? Doe – we’re going to get him back. 

If I never read another book about these wretched creatures again, I’ll be quite content. I’d go so far as to say lich are nasty sorts of creatures, feeding off the somewhat living, but it seems I have no room to judge that matter, lest I start referring to myself as the proverbial ‘pot’ to a rather wicked kettle. 

One thing my studies have turned up is that their names are vital. Not what they choose to call themselves when they come into, but who they were before power. In one particularly dusty tome, it said this: “speaking a lich’s true name could endow the speaker power over it, rendering the lich’s attention wholly on the speaker. It is only then that one can communicate with the true self which lies at the core beneath the corruption.” I assume this means, should Gale go through yet another crisis of his identity, all we must do is call out his name. If it were me, I too would react viscerally if I was addressed as ‘Gale of Waterdeep.’ Eugh. 

Another text mentioned ‘twilight’ as being a time when the veil between what is the material and the immaterial is thinnest. Whatever dark power he’s gotten himself wrapped up in, it has to lurk in the inbetween; this kind of power isn’t welcome anywhere else. Wherever Gale is, a part of him must be stuck on both sides. That’s why the name is so important – it’s his tether, his lifeline. It’s the way to bring him back – back to the light. We just have to break the hold, which is where you come in. 

Our ally is convinced you’re the key to all this. I’m inclined to believe they're right. Have you any idea how frequently they refer to someone else as being more fit for a task than themself?

Get back to me at your earliest convenience if you happen to find any hint of a phylactery about. I hope the devil’s been treating you well, but not too well. Don’t forget, I’m still waiting for you to come back to me, my darling. Still hoping I might be the one to take your hand at last. 

I hesitate to admit it, but I think I feel hope, Doe. Hope that we’ll make it out of this. Hope that we’ll get Gale back, and make the bloody fool see sense. It may not be what you want to hear, but I understand why he did it – I don’t agree, but I understand. Because, if given the choice to wield an ungodly power in order to keep you safe, I wouldn’t think twice. 

Anyhow, so sorry to keep you so long, I just…missed you. And I feel so sure that we will be close again, and soon. 

I love you.

–A

~ She reads the letter once, twice, thrice, finally drops it with violently shaking hands. The living dark swirling in her chest is so cold. So freezing it makes her want to sleep.

'It's me,' she whispers, clutching her hands together in an effort to stop them shaking. Her heart lurches, black spots encroach on her vision. 'Astarion it's me...'

Gods, if you knew. I'm the vessel.

What the fuck do I do now?

[our-genderfae-experience]

Hey Asking for advice as I'm going through another [sparkle sparkle] gender crisis [uiii ] So I tend to present really androgynously/masc most of the days. It's comfortable, it's not tight fitting, it looks eccentric, you can't tell I'm afab so bonus points, and it feels like me. On those days I just go by they/them. In my mind. I'm not out, mind you. My parents aren't supportive. :') But then I have days when I'm fine with people she/her-ing me. Even tho I present the same way, because it feels good. And then there are days when I dress like a dude and act like the most fem person ever. Then there are days when I totally switch up my style, go from loose baggy men's jeans and overshirts to the classic flared jean and crop top and I'm definitely a girl. Except for when I decide I'm uncomfortable and just switch up, go to the bathroom, put my binder on, gel my hair and start acting like a dude dressed in girls' clothes. [A little note:I started carrying a few men's items like cologne and gel at first for fun and to spruce up my looks whenever I need some confidence, but yeah they've been life savers :] ] Then I don't even bother with pronouns, people are just going to assume whatever ig. And then there are days when being called a girl is just straight up offensive and I just hate all the hair on my head and need to shave it but then I don't feel he/him, because boy is also nasty those days and I'm just an angry gremlin and idk. And then there are days when I love flowery patterns and knitwear and those hippie round hats(not beanies, idk what they're called. The ones that look like a fishmonger's staple piece and are a sort of floppy downsides) and I love menswear those days but paired with dresses and sometimes makeup and sometimes shorts and it's all weird and genderfuck and I just don't bother. Then there are days when I just play with my appearance for fun, not because of gender but because it's also how I express myself and idk. Basically I just broke my gender and now it's also a style somehow but not always and it's so fucked up. And I've done my research and the top labels would be one of the demis or genderfluid but meh And I'm mostly sure I'm not bigender/trigender/pangender etc because it doesn't resonate and also I never got this thing with half a gender or more than one, I just thought demi-s at first because it leaves room for parts and bits that don't really fit. And I also dunno if what troubles me is my gender or my style as binarised and if I'm reffering to stuff correctly because SINCE WHEN IS GENDER SO COMPLICATED MOST PEOPLE DON'T EVEN THINK ABT ITT whyyyy And I'm usually fine with being called a girl but !not! with being feminine and I feel like ~ meh~ and I want a dude's body and stubble, yeah, stubble would be cool. And I think that when I was a kid I never particularly cared, I mean I was tomboyish sometimes but not always and it usually depended on the environment. And yeah I hated dresses but now I don't and being called a girl never gave me pause but now it does and it is uncomfortable too. And I'm also thinking it's just me overthinking everything because nothing EVER gave me pause until my pinterest insisted "yeah ur trans" because of my more masc style and I was like "fine let's see. I might get rid of the soft fem outfits in my feed" and it was a downwards spiral. And I had been warned that after questioning ur sexuality comes gender identity and I said "I'm fine, I'm just nonconforming cis" and now idk nothing makes sense anymore. I'm sorry if this is triggering at all to anyone, with my binarised thinking and stuff but thing is: IM NOT OUT YEYY(not that id know what to come out as and not that my family would support me :l ). That's how people perceive me. And I just want to give a picture of what caused me this questioning. I know it's a lot to handle, but advice? And also some fashion tips. Tyssm <3

Hi!

Yeah, parents not being supportive can be an issue - I hope you're safe otherwise!

As for gender identity, have you looked into apagender? It doesn't explicitly include the fluidness you feel, but it seems to match the overall vibe you seem to be feeling.

And fashion? This is not the blog you should be asking - I have zero fashion sense

[our-androgyne-experience]

Hey

Idk if this is the best place to ask because this whole stuff is gender identity related but I LOVE aandrogynous culture so i want some fashion tips too :)

Asking for advice as I'm going through another [sparkle sparkle] gender crisis [uiii ]So I tend to present really androgynously/masc most of the days. It's comfortable, it's not tight fitting, it looks eccentric, you can't tell I'm afab so bonus points, and it feels like me.

On those days I just go by they/them. In my mind. I'm not out, mind you. My parents aren't supportive. :')

But then I have days when I'm fine with people she/her-ing me. Even tho I present the same way, because it feels good. And then there are days when I dress like a dude and act like the most fem person ever.

Then there are days when I totally switch up my style, go from loose baggy men's jeans and overshirts to the classic flared jean and crop top and I'm definitely a girl. Except for when I decide I'm uncomfortable and just switch up, go to the bathroom, put my binder on, gel my hair and start acting like a dude dressed in girls' clothes. [A little note:I started carrying a few men's items like cologne and gel at first for fun and to spruce up my looks whenever I need some confidence, but yeah they've been life savers :] ]

Then I don't even bother with pronouns, people are just going to assume whatever ig.

And then there are days when being called a girl is just straight up offensive and I just hate all the hair on my head and need to shave it but then I don't feel he/him, because boy is also nasty those days and I'm just an angry gremlin and idk.

And then there are days when I love flowery patterns and knitwear and those hippie round hats(not beanies, idk what they're called. The ones that look like a fishmonger's staple piece and are a sort of floppy downsides) and I love menswear those days but paired with dresses and sometimes makeup and sometimes shorts and it's all weird and genderfuck and I just don't bother.

Then there are days when I just play with my appearance for fun, not because of gender but because it's also how I express myself and idk.

...Basically I just broke my gender and now it's also a style somehow but not always and it's so fucked up.

And I've done my research and the top labels would be one of the demis or genderfluid but meh And I'm mostly sure I'm not bigender/trigender/pangender etc because it doesn't resonate and also I never got this thing with half a gender or more than one, I just thought demi-s at first because it leaves room for parts and bits that don't really fit.

And I also dunno if what troubles me is my gender or my style as binarised and if I'm reffering to stuff correctly because SINCE WHEN IS GENDER SO COMPLICATED MOST PEOPLE DON'T EVEN THINK ABT ITT whyyyy

And I'm usually fine with being called a girl but !not! with being feminine and I feel like ~ meh~ and I want a dude's body and stubble, yeah, stubble would be cool.

And I think that when I was a kid I never particularly cared, I mean I was tomboyish sometimes but not always and it usually depended on the environment.

And yeah I hated dresses but now I don't and being called a girl never gave me pause but now it does and it is uncomfortable too.

And I'm also thinking it's just me overthinking everything because nothing EVER gave me pause until my pinterest insisted "yeah ur trans" because of my more masc style and I was like "fine let's see. I might get rid of the soft fem outfits in my feed" and it was a downwards spiral.

And I had been warned that after questioning ur sexuality comes gender identity and I said "I'm fine, I'm just nonconforming cis" and now idk nothing makes sense anymore.

I'm sorry if this is triggering at all to anyone, with my binarised thinking and stuff but thing is: IM NOT OUT YEYY(not that id know what to come out as and not that my family would support me :l ). That's how people perceive me. And I just want to give a picture of what caused me to be questioning.

I know it's a lot to handle, but advice?

And also some fashion tips. Tyssm <3

thank you for sending in this ask!

my basic advice would be this:

stop overthinking it! saying this with all love and respect as a chronic overthinker myself. you seem to have a pretty good understanding of yourself and how you want to present on a day to day, and that's the most important part! you're also not (as far as I can tell, but I am far from an expert on these matters) referring to anything "incorrectly" or in an overly binarised way. anyone can wear any clothes they want, but certain outfits / articles of clothing are generally perceived as more masc/fem, and many clothing items are sold specifically as such - it's okay to acknowledge this when speaking about fashion, in my opinion.

while gender identity and gender expression are often linked, they don't have to be! it's easy to think, "well, if I change up my style all the time and these different styles often relate to different gendered feelings, I MUST be genderfluid" but it doesn't actually work that way - there's no "I MUST be x because I do x" rule. you MIGHT be genderfluid, as this is an experience many genderfluid people relate to - but it's an experience people of other genders can relate to as well (and there are genderfluid people who DON'T do this either). if a label doesn't resonate with you, there's no need to take it on just because you feel you "should".

there's no rush to figure it out! you have all the time in the world to explore and experiment. you don't have to get it right on the first try, and you don't have to come out at all if you don't want to (though I'm sorry to hear you're not in a supportive environment right now, and I hope things change if you decide you do want to come out as something in the future). I think you should just keep up what you've been doing already - playing with your appearance and style, doing what feels right, and seeing what comes naturally. Pinterest is telling you you're trans? maybe you are! but also, maybe you're not! nobody can define you, except you. if you like the soft fem outfits, keep them, if they're not doing it for you anymore, drop them - neither option means you're trans, neither means you're cis.

my fashion advice is similar to my gender advice, ie "do whatever you want forever". more specifically, I would suggest picking items of clothing that you like, rather than trying to create specific "looks" or "aesthetics" - create a vibe from scratch instead of trying to copy one you saw elsewhere. if you see a really cool jumper or skirt or pair of shoes somewhere and think "wow, I really dig that but I don't think it matches anything I have already..." don't let that stop you! there probably IS something, you just haven't thought of it that way before, and the best way to get a cool, unique look is to challenge yourself. I would also suggest looking into learning to alter / tailor your clothes to experiment even further (I have not done this yet myself, but that's just because I'm lazy! it's a great idea!)

I hope this was helpful! if you have any more questions and/or follow-ups, feel free to send them in 🩷💜🩵 good luck!

[blue-lantern]

Just took a closer look at Magdalene Visaggio’s Superboy pitch. Unfortunately I also took a closer look at some of the responses to it. It’s an interesting pitch, I think. I fully admit to not being a Kon El scholar but I can tell Visaggio is very passionate about the character and the direction she wanted to take him in, and I could tell that she was trying to balance that with DC’s current attempt to give the superfam a more united continuity. I understand why some fans don’t like that it seems to be a retread of identity crisis plot lines Kon has already had, but even retreads can add new ideas if done well. Could very much do without the secret clone sibling though, I’m good on that.

I think wanting to make Kon transfemme is a super interesting idea too. I get why people might shy away from it, because comic books are so status quo focused, and a character transitioning like that is a huge paradigm shift, so I do get it. But I think it opens up really interesting storylines. Visaggio makes a very good point that for a lot of trans people, that discovery doesn’t come until later in life, after a very long time of trying to figure out what’s wrong. Having an established character go through that let’s you really feel that late-in-life discovery in a way that a brand new character with the same storyline might not. And it’s fun to recontextualize past storylines if the retcon is good.

With all that being said, some of the replies I’ve seen to her pitch are fucking ghoulish. I know that most of the people being nasty are loud transphobes who don’t care/revel in how harmful they are, but it bears repeating that trans people wanting to see themselves represented are not wrong, or entitled, or the downfall of society, or whatever else for wanting that, and making an established character trans is not an attack on cis people. Costs zero dollars to be kind.

[messmersflame]

Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they're from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision? (1)

I HAVE A FEW but i will talk abt my main blorbo, Zeal.

Zeal (they/them) is a Mephistopheles tiefling, Blue Draconic Ancestor Sorcerer/Paladin of Vengeance.

originally i did go for durge, but when uh... yknow the first straight up MURDER happened i realised it was a bit too intense for me on a first run, and remade them with a custom origin with the Criminal background.

now for the long info dump. buckle up.

they were from Baldur's Gate, the city itself!! their parents were actually nobles, from families that were like. very big on their draconic lineage and would plan out marriages and bloodlines based on dragon type and magical strength.

ofc this means they were huge snobs with massive egos. aspirations of hubris. LOVED gortash. they wanted MORE power through and got involved with the diabolists in the city, eventually leading to mummy and daddy making a pact with Mr Mephy for more power. and in return? why, the soul of their first born, naturally!

and then Zeal was born as a full blown tiefling, and the snobby human parents were like :/ well we didn't expect THAT to happen :/

and abandoned their newborn baby on the street somewhere. Zeal was lucky enough to be heard crying by a passer by, who took them to the local temple of Tyr. and that's where they spent most of their childhood.

considering what they were wrapped up in the temple KNEW who their parents were, but kept it a secret, including from Zeal themself. they belived they were protecting the child by doing so. in their early teens, Zeal found out, got VERY upset at it being a secret and left the temple to go see their parents, deludedly thinking they'd welcome them back. they did NOT.

their parents actually attacked them and decided 'ok well to hide this we're just going to sacrifice you to mephistopheles right quick ok?'

they ended up killing their parents in self defense during the attempted sacrifice. this is also how they got their facial scars!! traumatised and disallusioned they just kind of. wandered the streets until they fell in with the Guild and became a criminal lol.

and Zeal, not really knowing why they were alive or what any purpose they had could be, just kind of let the Guild use their powers as a sorcerer for whatever. a lot of nasty stuff got done with thanks to their magic. they have a lot of guilt and regret around this part of their life.

as they were first coming of age, Zeal REALLY fell into a pit of identity and existential crisis. it was at this time when they were wandering the alleyways that they happened across a small secret shrine to Talos, God of destruction. it was there that they actually had a small chat with him which basically summed up as 'let me give you purpose and make you an instrument of my will. bring destruction in my name.' since they were desperate for some kind of direction, they accepted and made an oath to Talos without really thinking about it.

cue MORE regret. Talos is not a kind god, and enjoys destruction, killing, and war just for the sake of conflict. again, Zeal begun to realise that they were being used. again. they had been taken advantage of in a vulnerable and confused state and made to do more bad things.

so they broke their oath. mechanically obvs they can't have started the game as an oath breaker, but canonically they already were one by the time they got kidnapped and tadpoled. when they got nabbed, they were essentially working as a glaive-for-hire and attempting to find their own way by their own rules and morals. they also named themself before the start of the game, Zeal wasn't always their name, but it is now. it's the one they chose.

later in the actual game, they eventually find their connection and faith in Bahamut, and swear a new oath, this time of their own true choice, and become a Paladin of Vengeance for Bahamut.

[kurixta]

I am going so utterly feral over clean slate au. cause 1. i am so utterly desperate for crazytrainshipping and its so fun to imagine in the au, and 2. OH MY GOD THE DICHOTOMY OF WANTING INGO BACK AND INGO NOT KNOWING HOW TO BE BACK. THE CONFLICT. EMMET HAVING LOST ALL HIS SUPPORT NETWORK. THEY BOTH JUST WANT TO BE THEMSELF BUT EMMET IS ONLY WHOLE WITH INGO AND INGO IS MAKING HIMSELF ON HIS OWN AND AUUUGGGGGGHHHHH

AAAAA!!! I'm so glad you like it!!

And YES, I'm happy people are getting the premise of it outside of it just being an edgy submas au. It just shows a desperate need for change, but change makes you lose sight of who you are. Ingo goes through an awful identity crisis, Emmet doesn't know what to do and ends up going down the worst possible path. Things just get nasty, and no one ends up where they wanna be

Also, Volo is there to allow Ingo the choice of which version of "himself" he wants to be more like, giving him memories of his days in Hisui. He doesn't know if he wants to be whatever the people he knew says he is, or if he wants to be what he vaguely remembers.

There will generally be a happy ending, but its just gonna get far more worse until that happens