#just privileged white nonsense

[iwatcheditbegin]

Liberal westerners talking about having to take mental health breaks from social media bc posts about a literal genocide are “too hard to see” has got to be one of the most privileged and selfish takes in a long time.

[n0ne0ftheab0ve]

the thing about lestat is. he is just serving 24/7. he is everything he's doing every category tens tens tens across the board.

he's claudia's fucked up mommy dearest, he's antoinette's rich daddy, he's louis' drug of choice lover of all time. he's a coked up showpony, he's in love and can't be held responsible for his actions, he's a poor traumatized boy handed riches beyond comprehension, he IS the cycle of abuse-- abuser and abused and then abuser a few more times again. he's a lover of the arts and a pompous shallow prick who only reads the first 20 pages of books. he's an adamant athiest who speaks in the language of florid reliousity. he is fucking cuckoo bananas CRAZY and yes he's a natural blonde.

[bogkeep]

okay i know that to ME it's obvious that the word blåhaj is just "blue shark" in swedish and it's obvious to ME how it's pronounced, but i have never heard a native english speaker use the word before now and i need a moment to recover

[mookuthi-amman]

Reminder that forced/coerced marriage (any marriage either party is unwilling to enter) is illegal in India. Even if relatives threaten that they can do it, its not legal. You have options to avoid it.

[thekimspoblog]

Apparently I've been CANCELED on witchcraft Tumblr because my use of the term "voodoo doll" is racist. And like... yes? But also oh my god shut up Tumblrina! All majick is a hodgepodge of practices derivative of whatever culture the practitioner pulled from. So when an angsty white american goth girl sits on her floor, draws a pentagram, and chants google-translated Latin, the effigy she created in likeness of her love interest isn't called a "spirit doll" or whatever the politically correct term is, now is it? Cultural appropriation: a thing I didn't invent.

Are people ignorant of the actual history of voodoo? Sure. Here's the wikipedia page for Marie Laveau; a lot of the stuff which fell under the umbrella of her practicing her religion was actually useful shit, like delivering babies, making medicine and generally being a community leader. If anything, I'm just disappointed the rumors of her poisoning slave owners have been greatly exaggerated.

But you know I've been doing this witchcraft thing for a while now, and let me tell you what I've figured out. Research doesn't really matter all that much.

All that matters is your intent, and mine was to bring hellfire down on GOP members in a way legally untraceable back to me. I'm not saying it's impossible to be racist while wishing death on white supremacists. I'm saying raise your hand if you actually care.

Because no matter what, the effect is the same. Jack and shit.

And if I'm wrong, may your superiorly authentic majick strike me down.

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ PUSSY PRIVILEGES ARE GONE ❞

— talking about pussy + one mention of “dick privileges”, whiny satoru, poly! satosugu x afab! reader, serial manspreader + sassy man Suguru, black reader in mind :3

“You can’t do this to me.” Silence. “Baby, pleaseee!”

“Nah.,” you scoff. “Over with, pussy privileges are gone, and that’s final.”

“All because I don’t like the nickname?,” Suguru asks besides you, head cocked like a puppy.

You tug at Satoru’s strong hold around your waist. “Yep. Can’t get a kiss, can’t give my boyfriend a nickname. You two don’t love me anymore.”

Suguru crosses his arms over his chest, sinking further into the couch, traces of a pout falling over his face. He sighs. “What’s wrong with just calling me Sugu?”

You fight helplessly against Satoru, ignoring his continuous whining as he pulls you back into his lap. “What’s wrong with calling you ‘Papa Sugs’?”

“You can’t be serious.”

Huffing, with Satoru’s overdramatic and agonized moaning in the background. “Pft. Imma show you some damn serious.”

Suguru’s chuckle, exasperation creeping up the edges. “Sure. You’re gonna ban us from your pussy for…?”

“Indefinitely.,” you grunt, finally prying yourself from Satoru’s grip in his shock at your response.

“Baby!,” he whines, blinking shiny blue eyes at you beneath white lashes. “Baby, I-“

“Ohhh, so now I’m baby?”, you tease, rolling your eyes. “I wasn’t baby when you weren’t kissing me back, loser.”

“It was a joke!” Gojo puffs out his cheeks. “I’m a changed man, I promise.”

“Oh, okay.,” you smile at the knit of his brows. “You’re gonna be a changed man, alright.”

Satoru falls over into Suguru’s lap, stuffing his face into aforementioned man’s shirt and whining a muffled ,”You sooo hate us.”

“Whatever.,” you brush them off with a wave of your hand, heading to the kitchen. “Consider it a lesson in punishment.”

Six days. Just shy of a week before Suguru shows signs of cracking, because Satoru couldn’t withstand this whole thing to begin with. He’d tried everything from begging to gifts to taking your ‘dick privileges’, and then being immediately thwarted with a flick of your vibrator.

“That thing’s gonna replace us?,” Suguru snorts, nibbling the inside of his cheeks.

“It’ll do for now.,” you giggle with a raise of your chin. In truth, it didn’t even come close, but you’re far too petty to admit that.

“Can’t believe that is gonna get more action than me.,” Satoru groans into the pillows. “I’m gonna die at this rate.”

“Good.,” and he jolts up with wide eyes at your response. “I’ll make an example out of you for Geto.”

Satoru drags himself up to pout in your direction. "You could at least call me Satoru, he's the one you're upset with about names."

"No, first names are for boyfriends only."

Suguru lays sprawled out on the bed, legs spread open in retaliation, tapping around on his phone. "Oh? And when did we lose boyfriend privileges?"

"Since just then."

Both men narrow their eyes at you, glancing at eachother before Suguru massages a temple, lids fluttering as his eyes roll to the back of his head. "Fine, we're terrible boyfriends. Happy now?"

You adjust the towel around your chest, and disappear into the bathroom for a shower. "Nope, but I'm glad y'all know."

Ever dramatic, Satoru points an accusatory finger at Suguru. "This is your fault, she didn't take these privileges until you and that whole Papa Sug nonsense!"

"Well, you started it."

Their bickering raises bouts of giggles in your throat. Water spouts from the shower head when you turn the knob, and you tinker for a few minutes to get it to a temperature of your liking. At the sound of your 'ahem', both men go silent.

"First one to join me in the shower gets pussy privileges ba–“

There's a sound of rapid scuffling, Satoru's 'ow!', and then a flash of dark hair as Suguru slams and locks the door behind him.

"Not fair, I fell!," Satoru whines from the other side, jiggling the knob.

"Desperate are we?," you flash your tongue at Suguru as he strips bare.

"Mm." comes his quiet response, not wanting to fully admit this little game of yours was a lot more painstaking than he let on.

"Does that mean I get to call you Papa Sugs now?" Before he can open his mouth, you add, "If not then you gotta get out."

"Yes, kick him out!," Satoru pipes in, door now wide open and you notice the knob is not as attached as it was before.

Suguru sighs, throwing his shirt in Satoru's face before pinching your waist, and he smirks when you give a small yelp. "Fine."

[muzansfangs]

We are on the same boat. If only he was less grumpy and murderous, he’d make such a great candidate for a wedding🤷🏻‍♀️❤️

Grumpy, fedora-wearing husband who begrudgingly takes photos of you on a summer holiday 🤭❤️

Heatwave.

Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;

Format: drabble;

Warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, modern au, married couple dynamics, human!muzan, jealousy, lovesick Muzan;

Plot: it was that time of the year when you packed your stuff and travelled towards tropical destinations together. Your husband loathed the sun, the heatwaves made him particularly grumpy, especially since you wore such scandalous bikinis. However, you were too beautiful for him not to lavish.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The crystal water sparkled under the blood orange sky, the colorful lanterns around the dock and the sun disappearing behind the horizon setting off the ocean, twinkling like a starry night sky. The waves embraced the shore steadily, the cry of some seagulls in the distance cutting the sultry air of the summer evening, as you twirled around the beach barefoot.

Your laughter, the way you smiled lazily and ran your fingers through your hair to draw back a cowlick tickling your nose made it hard for him to display his perpetually grumpy face. Instead, his hand reached for his phone in the pocket of his white capri pants. He was definitely not a beach person and he hated summer with every melocule of his body, but you made that nauseating season more bearable, almost pleasant, if he had to be completely honest.

You were not paying attention to him, leading the way to your hotel instead as your bright eyes soaked in the spectacular landscape around you. Another one, he just needed to take one more picture of you.

You did not have to know.

Right, you could just go on with your walk and bless his eyes with the vision of your smile and your body, of the way the bikini you had bought complimented your curves, ‘much to his dismay’. All you had to do was live and he was happy to contemplate you, without disrupting that moment of peace.

The click of the camera broke the spell. You blinked skeptically, head turning towards Muzan in confusion “Huh? Did you take a picture of me?” you asked him, stopping in your tracks as he cussed under his breath.

Mission accomplished, but he had been caught.

“What makes you think I did? Maybe I just liked the sunset” he replied smoothly, quick to shove his phone back into his pocket, out of your reach.

You chuckled, shoulders slacking “Really? I did not know you were into photography. Show me” you chirped out, but he avoided your gaze and huffed.

He had been caught red-handed and now there was no way in Hell he was going to accept his fate and admit you were right. He loved taking pictures of you, he liked to scroll through his photo gallery and relax at the sight of your pretty face, most of the time inattetive, as Kokushibo drove him yet to another tiring meeting with a group of white-collars spluttering nonsense about economic strategies supposedly benefitting the Country.

Muzan looked up at the sky, hands into his pockets “I needed a new lockscreen” he finally asserted, watching you stroll back towards him in glee, sandals in your hands flopping together with your giddy shamble.

“Ah, I knew it! — you gloated, stopping right in front of you, smirking — If you wanted me to pose for you, all you had to do was ask for it” you said, tossing your shoes onto the sand and leisurely swinging your arms around his shoulders.

Muzan dipped his head towards you, pointy nose brushing against yours “You don’t need to pose to look good” he stated, voice lowering and taking a tender edge only you had ever had the pleasure to see.

He could be cold-blooded, unphased, a calculator but he never once lied to you. He never let you down, he never shut you out. You had the privilege to love and be loved by him, there was no way in Hell he was going to admit you had stolen his heart.

With a kiss, you melted in his arm. Your mouth sealed with his, your breaths mingling as you were teleported into your own little world for a few seconds. At least, until a crab stapled to Muzan’s toe and he groaned out in sheer irritation.

“Useless creature from Hell” he hissed, swatting it away as you bursted out laughing, your gasps and laughter warming his heart.

He was still your Muzan, grumpy and yours.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Back home and back to posting! Enjoying this small drabble on my birthday. Likes, re-posts and comments are greatly apprecciated! Love y’all,

Luce!

[sapphsorrows]

"people only pick on trans people because they're easy targets" yeah no shit they're easy targets just like flat earthers and antivaxxers. what they believe is absolutely fucking insane when you think about it for more than 2 seconds.

the idea of trans is no different from the idea of predestination.

predestination says only those who have been chosen by god will be saved and will go to heaven. how do you know you're predestined? there is literally no way to tell externally. there is no test you take to make sure you're predestined. you just have to put your faith in jesus and know, internally, in your heart, or whatever. funny how literally everyone who believes this also happens to be one of the ~chosen ones~.

the idea of being trans is that some people are born in the wrong body. how do you know you're born in the wrong body? there is literally no external way to tell, aside from maybe a few "am I trans?" quizlets (which as we all know are 100% accurate always and only made by professionals and not 12 year old furries). you just look inside, or whatever, and somehow "know" or you decide for yourself. then, based on your own self-reporting, which you have no way to externally verify, you expect people to bend to your will and you expect society to give you special privileges that no one else gets. no other man gets to pee in the ladies' or compete in women's sports but once you self-id as trans? well, right this way "ma'am", pay no mind to the women cowering in fear of you. their rights don't matter nearly as much as your feelings. funny how damn near everyone who believes in this also happens to be trans themselves, will a few outliers.

even "gender critical" transes like mr. blaire white and ms. buck angel will talk in hours upon hours of videos about the importance of gatekeeping and protecting women's spaces, yet /they/ demand the exact same privileges as every other "fake" (in their words) trans person on tiktok. do you seriously think "fake" trans people are going to listen to you and suddenly not go into the women's? No! are you fucking kidding me? it's so much easier to tell a buck or a blaire to fuck off than it is to a delusional fetishist who will 100% either hurt you or make a scene. there is no "true trans" because EVERYONE claims to be truly trans, everyone from bruce jenner to the "IT IS MA'AM" gamestop dude.

it fucking baffles me how youtube skeptics - people i used to admire, people who taught me how to think critically about shit - will spend all damn day dunking on flat earthers and creationists but will turn a blind eye to the trans cray and will even go as far as to support them. they think they're so above it all and they can't be fooled, but they have been, and I keep waiting for them to snap out of it - just like I waited for my own family to snap out of christianity - but they haven't.

if you seriously think a dress and some hormones and plastic surgery will make a man into a woman, you're insane, and you're no more crazy than a youtuber who thinks antarctica is an ice wall or a pastor who still prays to his "sky daddy". you have no right to make fun of these people for the insane shit they believe when you believe in this nonsense. you are quite literally the pot calling the kettle black.

and if you're one of those people who's like "oh well i know they're not actually women i just call them that to avoid hurting their feelings" im sorry but you're still in this cult, you're physically in but mentally out and the only way to really get out is to call a spade a spade, admit the emperor has no clothes, admit you were fooled just like me - just like all of us - and speak out against it.

[drdemonprince]

i just FIND IT INTERESTING that the people who say transmisandry is a unique and real and important to discuss form of oppression dont ever talk about, say, misandrynoir or society's hatred of disabled men or fat men or any other intersections being "misandry" and the experiences of other oppressed groups.

It makes exactly 0% sense to treat "misandry" as a real locus of oppression that can intersect with other oppressions only in the context of talking about trans men, and never doing it with anything else.

Black men sure as fuck experience racism in a very particular way. but to date ive never heard someone attempt to call that the intersection between misandry and anti-Blackness, because misandry doesn't fucking exist.

either you believe misandry is a thing or your dont. if you dont think misandry is real, transmisandry as a concept is completely nonsensical. if you dont understand this please read about what intersectionality actually is and how it works and stop co-opting the scholarship of a Black woman legal scholar in order to complain about how there are more trans femme serial killers in movies than trans masc ones or whatever the hell you think youre being left out of.

most of the transmisandry posters are white trans men with a self-victimization complex who cant imagine they have both some very genuine experiences of oppression (transphobia or transmisia, whatever you wanna call it) and also significant privileges. its just so fucking transparent it makes me want to join my chinchilla in chewing the walls

[michellezagenda]

one of my biggest pet peeves about white activists, TRA be gay do crimes queers is how they try to dismiss people of color who oppose their views. They try to make us feel like we’re just trying to be picked by white people despite being white suburban upper class wannabe oppressed victims themselves. They don’t realize that their views are all based around whiteness. if they actually talked to POC especially WOC they would know that most of us find their opinions to be regressive, racist and privileged. I need them to stop speaking on us like their entire movement isn’t just low effort white nonsense.

[tragedy-of-commons]

when somebody needs you (+ baklava)

kaveh & gn!reader | wc: ~1.5k

In a much-needed moment of respite, you and Kaveh both learn not to give so much in the pursuit of others' happiness.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, mild angst, written platonically but can be interpreted as romantic, description of disassociation (reader), and nail-picking (kaveh)

notes: n/a

A voice calls your name, dangerously soft.

You want to snap out of the stupor you’re stuck in, but white noise rings in your ears. It threatens to drown out the singsong of daily life as the seconds tick by. Maybe you didn’t even hear it at all, because the sunlight feels fake upon your skin, and the line between reality and the pit of your mind blurs further.

Your name again, louder. Ah, well, no excuse now - do something.

“Hm?” you hum. A small part of you realizes that you’ve been staring at the same market stall for at least an hour, but it’s easier to remain transfixed on an inconsequential target than your own thoughts.

“I asked if you’re alright,” they place a hand on your shoulder and squeeze. “Ahem, that brute stole my ke–uh, something important of mine again. I was heading back here to kill time, but you’re still in the same spot as when I first saw you.”

Kaveh. His hand is on your shoulder, and you can picture his brow furrowed in concern that you don’t deserve. You take a deep breath.

“Yes. I’m alright.” You don’t dare face him.

The silence that follows your lie is comforting. However, the architect must not agree. Kaveh finds his words after a too-long pause. “..In that case, could I sit with you? It’s beautiful out today.”

You nod mechanically, and a blur of blond and white settles in your peripherals.

“You know,” he starts, and you strain to hear him. “I haven’t seen you around much lately. If there’s something you want to talk about, I can listen. We could get lunch,” he offers kindly.

You wrench your head to the side to take a good look at your friend. He’s breathtaking, and it’s almost criminal that he doesn’t realize it. He’s looking at you with his bleeding heart on display, and you know that he knows. He must, right?

“With what mora?” you joke. Kaveh lights up like he just won the lottery when you bloom at his behest. “Why, Alhaitham’s, of course.”

That’s right; he’s more inclined to let go of his pride when you’re around. One usually can’t waterboard his living situation or reliance upon his roommate out of him. It’s not that he’s arrogant, you think, but that he has to shed his Light of Kshahrewar persona - and you’re grateful for the privilege. He certainly deserves a reprieve, even if it’s better spent with someone else.

“And that wouldn’t be too much trouble?” “Nonsense, don’t be silly. I could also use your opinion on some of my revisions,” his bravado softens. “I’d love your company.” 

He’d love your company. It’s dangerous for him to say things like that - sweet conjectures that haul you to your feet and make you agree to spend the afternoon with him. 

Walking down Treasures Street with Kaveh is a familiar activity, sure, but this time he’s merciful enough not to comment on your sluggish movements or lackluster replies, when you’re usually matching his intellectual wit head-on. Another thing you owe him.

“Something sweet is a must,” he mutters, holding the door of Puspa Café open for you. “What do you think? Baklava?”

On second thought, maybe you’ll save your debilitating guilt for after dessert.

When Kaveh’s teeth are sufficiently sticky, there still has been no heart-to-heart therapeutic conversation. Something awful gnaws at him when you stare blankly down at your portion. So, he talks at you like you’re a client, even if it feels wrong. You’re his friend, someone who has seen him at his worst - and he finds himself lacking the right words to get you to open up. As he rambles about his recent projects, his work on Mehrak, and the trips he’s taken to the desert, he’s reminded of how little you’ve talked about yourself period.

He can preach about tact to his roommate all he likes, but this is a contender for one of his more humbling experiences. How many times have you wanted to leave early before this, but you were too wonderful to say anything? How many hours of your life has he wasted by making everything all about him? 

Inviting you here was supposed to be an attempt at listening to you for once, and he– You snap in front of his face. “Hey. You’re not making any sense.” “Oh! Sorry, I must have gotten caught up in my thoughts,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I know the feeling. Also,” you rap against the table near his lounging hand, one of his restless index fingers picking at the adjacent thumb’s cuticle. “You’re messing with your nails again. Something on your mind?” His heart is about to overflow whether he likes it or not. “I want to help.” You blink twice, eyes now glossy. Since when did you perk up? “You are helping.” “I’ve been rambling this whole time–” “–And I’ve been listening,” You cross your arms over your chest matter-of-factly, now chuckling. “Clearly you haven’t, because in the latter half of that spiel, you started reciting shitty poetry instead of whatever filler you had prepped.” The soft expression he wore morphs into abject horror. “I did not.” You’re grinning evilly, and it’s beautiful. Oh Archons, he did. However, had he known making a fool of himself frees you of your pain that you guard sacred, he would have screamed purple prose from the rooftops like a madman at the earliest opportunity. “That aside, what I’m trying to say is.. you are helping, Kaveh. Dragging me here, away from all the noise, and keeping me company means a lot.” The mist haunting your visage has been warded off, accidental soliloquy aside. “I’m sorry for not being upfront about my situation.” “I know the feeling,” he parrots. The scope of his empathy extends to everyone, himself be damned, but it shouldn’t have taken this long to realize what’s been festering in plain sight. “No apologies. Please allow me to lend an ear, even if I’ve been difficult about it myself. I insist.”

A sip of cold, neglected coffee can’t taste too good. You tough it out and then nod stiffly. Details emerge cautiously, muddled by hesitancy and exhaustion, but he listens with rapt attention. Kaveh feels closer than a seat away from you, backing you with all the support he can muster - and when you choke up in front of him for the first time, he swears that he’ll make sure you feel safe enough to do so more often, starting with Baklava pick-me-ups every week.

Regrettably, the world moves on. Tabs are settled, the tear tracks on your cheeks dry, and the sun begins to set, casting the district in a citrinous orange. Though your mind is clearer than it has been in days, there’s still a niggling urgency as you walk your friend back to his Not-Home.

You’re not alright. You’re not alright, and Kaveh knows more than you ever planned to tell him, but at least there’s comfort in the fact that he’s the exact same way. He never planned to tell you about his mother, or the monumental regrets he’d do anything to put to bed. When he let you in, you should have made yourself at home also. Now there is no idle chatter. You pick up the torch. “I like when you talk. Just because you felt like it wasn’t helping me is no reason to go all quiet on me now,” you nudge him with your elbow. Carmine eyes narrow in suspicion. “B-But I literally ‘recited shitty poetry’ when I was–” “Oh, about that..” Kaveh’s strides stretch wider, his many accessories bouncing in pursuit of a space safe from your teasing. A playful scoff. “..I’m never living that down, am I?” “If you don’t want your experimental free verse plastered on the nearest message board, I’ll be expecting a bribe prepared by next Wednesday.” You think the architect is endeared enough by your noticeable uplift in spirit to let it slide. You love him very much, and he must love you too. “Extortion is a serious crime,” he slows down, taking it like a champ. “But it’s a deal. We could meet again then, same spot? I’ll have ample time in the late afternoon.” It hurts to swallow. “Yeah. We could.. talk.” His head eagerly swivels towards you, one hair clip almost dislodging. There’s no missing the glimmer of hope present in each almost imperceptible warp of his features. Alhaitham’s house looms in the distance. “About what’s on your mind?” he hopes. “Yes,” you make yourself say it. “And yours too. Then the revisions you’ve agonized over the last two months.” Kaveh releases the breath he was holding, unabashed in his smiling now. “It’s a promise then.” Such a promise with your best friend is something you’ll try to stop feeling guilty about. As you watch him break from your side onto the porch of his temporary residence (and pound on the door irately), you believe that it will get easier. After all, who else will buy you dessert?

[machine-saint]

i don't think I've ever really faced much discrimination for being a trans woman in my job; I've got promotions at a decent clip, always had good salary raises, and so on. I've gotten fucked by The System for changing my name, but that's not really a thing targeted at trans people per se I would say. the most it's fucked with me medically is when a psych refused to write me a bridge prescription for Vyvanse because he was worried about interactions with estrogen (it doesn't have any).

of course it would be absurd of me to extrapolate from this to the wider population of trans women! some of this is due to my privilege in other areas, some of it is luck, some of it is living in a fairly trans-friendly area. but this is still my "lived experience". and this is part of why I've always placed (somewhat!) less emphasis on the idea of listening to individual lived experience than I see elsewhere; people are experts on their own lives, but if you want to talk about populations, you need to do surveys or whatever.

of course, conversely, the problem is that if you ask "have you been discriminated against for being X characteristic", there's a subset of (say) white people, cis people, men, etc., that will answer yes even if they haven't because of culture war nonsense. and you can't know whether that's legitimate or not without knowing a priori how social relations around race/gender/etc work. so you take a step back and go, okay, let's look at salaries and median wealth and employment numbers, but those can have noise for their own set of reasons, etc, etc

there's no punchline here, no one weird old trick. I think this is just hard.

[trans-androgyne]

Okay so I've been puzzling over the nonsensical "saying that trans men have different experiences than cis men is misgendering" talking point for a while and I think I've finally figured out a reason it even exists.

I think a LOT of the queer community has replaced the way they conceptualize gender as, instead of being based on sex, with being based on being a victim or a perpetrator.

So within this new dichotomy (not actually new it's how patriarchy has defined its two genders forever but with the "trans inclusive" change of not also being based on sex), of women being victims and men being perpetrators, it's easy to fold trans women into that because, well, they are victims.

But trans men are victims too. But under this dichotomy, men can't be victims, especially not for their gender. So... "saying that trans men suffer, especially in ways cis men don't, is misgendering" becomes a thing people actually believe...

It's just very. Hm. How instead of letting gender be defined as an internal sense of identity like we've been FIGHTING for a lot of people would rather just very slightly change the patriarchal definitions no matter WHO it hurts.

(Alsp worth mentioning that trans women are very easily also thrown into the "perpetrator" pile if they step out of line at All so this fucked up dichotomy doesn't help anyone except the cishet white perisex (plus other axis of privilege) women who are the least likely to be thrown into the perpetrator pile. Despite being the group of women with the most access to power and therefore the most opportunities and support to Be a perpetrator and hurt others...)

This is an excellent analysis, thank you for sharing it with me. This behavior of theirs falls into the traps of cultural feminism and oppositional sexism. I hope people will start listening to each other and learning to understand the complexity of trans and intersex experiences with gender, gendered oppression, privilege, and power.

[decolonize-the-everything]

as far as i know, the transandrophobia post you're talking about is the one by ftmtf who pretty regularly reblogs from spacelazarwolf and genderkoolaid, who are both zionists who deny and downplay the genocide in gaza (on top of being open transmisogynists who dabble in claiming trans women have male privilege). i'm not going to tell you what to think about the theory of transandrophobia but i personally question the motives when a lot of loudest proponents of it either are or associate with these types of people.

The post I'm talking about was made by myself. Someone made a vaguepost in response to it suggesting idk what I'm talking about.

That context aside,

I'm none of those things, advocate for none of those things, and my followers know that so what makes their character a reason to question my character, anyway?

.

When did y'all start letting racists and genocide apologists speak for anyone? Radfems came and nobody said feminism had to stop existing right?

I think it's entirely possible to recognize good faith, genuine critiques and analysis of how white supremacy affects men (which is the perspective of oppression that my post focused on) and how that intersects with other systems of oppression.

Likewise, the same way you've learned to spot radfem/terf bs I think it's also possible to recognize when that's being done in bad faith like when radfem-type ppl (like spacelazarwolf) do it.

Another response I get is people assuming that acknowledging someone else's oppression would somehow be lessening their own? and I dont see how that's my problem to unpack after we spent the last 5 years explaining to white people that privilege doesn't mean you can't also be poor or queer. We've already read this chapter as a society, I thought?

Imagine how fucking sad it would be if some totally normal person logged on Tumblr, saw the feminist tag full of transphobia, assumed all feminism was like that, and decided "I'm never gonna be a feminist, they're all bigots and also anyone who calls themselves that is fucking wrong and just doesn't know it."

🙃🙃🙃

That is what's happening to non-femme trans people except it's happening before the concept of our oppression under patriarchy/white supremacy has actually even really been discussed which is fucked up cuz like ...how are you gonna let that pathetic, bigoted explanation of oppression be representative of all trans-masc/non-binary people and actively discourage other people from trying to figuring it out too....and it's not bigoted? Like how.

Esp when my post was analyzed it through the lens of white supremacy. So it was also specifically about marginalized mascs and nonbinary people. Like how is wanting to discuss the way your gender impacts, compounds, and informs your experiences and other forms of oppression bigoted just because you're not a woman or femme lol?

I thought we wanted men to do that specifically. What happened to that?

Ofc trans femmes don't have male privilege!!! I think if your concepts of oppression undermine someone else's then your concepts are shit and you should read more. You shouldnt have to misgender, degrade, or dehumanize anyone else to identify yourself or name your oppression. My posts didn't do that, which is why the reactionary response from especially leftist Tumblr has been pretty disappointing tbh.

I've been fleshing my own idea of it out on my blog and that's been aggressively reacted to every single time I've answered questions about it 💀

And it's always bad faith nonsense, like "you just hate trans women" which is just a factually untrue reactionary statement. Like that's not even a critique cuz I know you didn't check the trans tag on my blog, that's nothing to me. Or it's "you don't know what intersectionality is" when I've made sure to read Kimberlé Crenshaw's source material and share it. When I've made sure to even read recent statements she's made commenting on how it's being used and weaponized in modern times.

Or it's seemingly good faith comments like yours anon "well only bigots have ever talked about it..."

Which is just another reactionary comment that doesn't even bother valuable critique.

How would you feel if I said "radfems are the loudest proponents of women rights so think about that before you start associating yourself with them."

sounds like bs misogyny doesn't it?

And maybe your response would be that I should just widen my circle and stop listening to radfems maybe. Maybe you'd tell me that Bigot feminism is not the only feminism out there and it would be on me to educate myself about that in good faith if I actually care about women :)

And you'd be right.

And I'm saying that road should go both ways.

When I'm having that conversation in good faith on my blog, it shouldnt be difficult for a bunch of people calling themselves progressive thinkers to hear me out in good faith instead of assuming I'm a bigot who doesn't know trans women are oppressed.

Like yeah it's shitty and systemic proof that misogyny is alive and real that the only people who talked about transandrophobia thus far are Like That.

However, I do not think it's proof that nonbinary, transmasc, and other marginalized men need to be gatekept from having the vocabulary to describe their unique experiences. We don't use homophobic straight women as proof that feminism shouldn't exist, right? I'm using the same logic. If the shittiest woman on earth deserves to destroy the patriarchy then why doesn't the shittiest nonbinary man you know have the same right? 💀

And going back to the vocabulary thing: Vocabulary, language, and literacy are necessary to dismantle anything and everything you can think of.

I genuinely don't get all the pushback beyond it just being well-intentioned & reactionary at the same time tbh

[liliaeth]

I was just thinking about something that keeps returning in fandom...

People acting as if Scott somehow thinks in black and white, while Stiles to them thinks in shades of grey, which they translate to 'is willing to kill'. And it's just such absolute nonsense.

A big part of the issue here that I've noticed, is something fandom often loves to ignore. Namely that from s1 on, Scott was most often the one being attacked, the one forced to deal with life or death choices. While Stiles, still got to keep seeing death as something abstract, something that happened, but wasn't a decision that he personally had to make. Stiles wasn't forced to resist the urge to kill, he didn't have some force in his head try to make him kill people, and in the early seasons, he was a foil for Scott. Someone who didn't have to face the choice between life and death. For Stiles that responsibility did not come until s3b.

Scott didn't have that privilege. Even as early on as s1, when Peter tried to control him, he was forced to feel what it would be like to maul and possibly kill someone he cared about. It might have been just a dream, but all too soon he had to find out it was a dream based on reality. the reality where Peter tried to make him kill someone. And it took all of Scott's will power to resist doing so.

And then not long after, Peter forced Scott's darkest instincts to come up, making him actually want to kill his friends. A experience that clearly horrified Scott. Because he'd already had that feeling in the first two episodes of the show, where his instincts made him go after Stiles, his best friend.

So when Peter sent Derek after Jackson, for Scott, that wasn't some abstract notion, it was reality.

It wasn't just people trying to kill him, and the fear of that, but the fear that he himself might kill others. Which is why in s5 to him, the worst thing to happen to Liam would be for him to have to live with having killed Scott. Not for Scott's sake, but for Liam's...

For Scott, killing isn't some black and white bullshit, it's real, it's a way of ending any and all other possibilities for a person.

When Scott refuses to kill, it's not because he believes in black and white, or good and evil, it's because he doesn't.

Because he knows that just because someone is an asshole, or does bad things, that doesn't mean they're evil, that doesn't mean they deserve to die. Because he believes in shades of grey. because Killing and Death are not just funny abstract threats, or exaggerations, it's something real, and it's not a decision that should be taken lightly.

Stiles can argue for killing, since he's never expected to be the one to do the deed. He can ask Scott to "consider letting [Derek] die," or to "kill Jackson, problem solved," because he's not the one who has to bear the responsibility.

Now admittedly, it's not that Stiles had no idea of how dark things really were, not after the end of s1. he'd seen dead people, Lydia’s mauled body made it more than real. His willingness to consider killing was more from powerlessness…he didn’t see many options to stop the killers without killing them. After all, in S1 his first instinct was to have Derek arrested and it didn’t work, so he suggests murder and killing, but still never has to actually make the choice to commit the killing himself

Not until s3b, and even then Stiles choice was 'lock himself up' or let the Nogitsune kill. The same choice Scott already had to make in s1.

Fandom likes to pretend Stiles could easily kill the bad guys, when the reality of the show is that when Stiles did accidentally kill, in s5, it devastated him. Because just like Scott, he came to realize that killing is final, killing is destructive, and doing so should never be a first solution.

Both Scott and Stiles had to make these choices, both of them came to the same conclusion, and that's something fandom loves trying to ignore.

[boreal-sea]

Basically what I think people need to grasp is that "privilege" is not a rigid hierarchy that can be displayed with a simple top-down triangle diagram with all men on top and all women on the bottom. Especially in America where we have a lot of different bigotries at play, you cannot divide privilege based only on gender or agab and expect to be correct. You just can't.

Because if you try, you get absolutely incoherent arguments like "That poor disabled black child in a wheelchair is a male, therefore he is higher than an ablebodied rich cishet white adult woman on the privilege ladder".

Which is just. Complete nonsense. But if you divide the world based on gender first, that's the kind of thing you'll have to try to believe is true.

Instead, we really need to understand that privilege and oppression are accumulations of identities, societies, cultures, and circumstances, that can and do change based on many factors, and may not always be as simple as we want them to be.