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terfs are fucking nuts like they really think they understand biology better than trans people, who have to learn college/graduate level biology as a matter of course cus they will have to justify themselves to most people they meet who aren't also trans. (no terf I've ever met has had more than a high school level understanding of biology xx xy penisman vaginawoman. look around you. biology is NEVER that simple)
terfs get all their panties in so many twists over trans people "enforcing gender stereotypes" when I've known trans men to be feminine and trans women to be masculine and nonbinary people who are specifically and exclusively concerned with breaking gender stereotypes 5 different ways with each item of clothing they wear. we know women can be masc we know men can be femme. We Know. it's you lot who keep attacking gender nonconforming cis people in bathrooms cus you don't seem to understand identity isn't tied to gender expression
literally all slur discourse I've seen on here was instigated or fanned by terfs. terfs are concerned with respectability politics only, which means they're not actually activists in any way, they're reactionary bullshitters who don't give a single fuck about the material world, or consequences and realities in the material world. they want to preserve the status quo - it allows them to paint "women", "lesbians" and "children" as vulnerable, default-victim-status categories with no agency or power, who can't ever hold (any kind of) power under patriarchy and can't ever have agency (ever). it means they always will be forever convinced of their perfect victimhood.
they claim to want to abolish gender entirely, but they don't really want that - they know that won't happen in any of our lifetimes, so it's a convenient strawman to bring up anytime we tell them that their """"activism"""" literally only reinforces already existing axes of oppression. hun you're literally making gender live longer with your attitudes. no stop you're being soooooo counterproductive to the cause you claim to fight for etc
terfs i really hope you get better soon. especially if ur one of those teenage terfs around these parts. u have been brainwashed with anti-men propaganda. u have been brainwashed with anti-slur propaganda. no terrible thing you've been told is terrible exists in a vacuum and there will always be people reclaiming slurs and loving men and trying to be better. you really don't have to be so scared of them, we have more in common than we don't, etc
peace and love for everyone (this includes cis men and queers and fags and trannies and dykes by the way. and also every single other group you want to exclude for arbitrary reasons. it even includes terfs but i kinda doubt u will find peace and love unless u stop being a terf so once again. i really do hope you get better soon)
#terfs cw#terfs interact#if you dare lmao#radical feminism#kickin the hornets nest idk#can i deradicalise some 16yo terf with this? i fucking hope so#terfs are not your friends#terfs will turn on you the second your views are inconvenient#radical feminism is a cult#they want you to hate men uncritically and find a home in your permanent powerless victim status#nah#fam you have more power than that#you just have to take it. and believe you can have it#and also probably dismantle capitalism cus that's the real thing keeping us all powerless#seriously the world is fucked up in so many ways.#but trans people are the problem???????????#please join a union or a community garden#please do some actual helpful activism im begging#clean a beach or foster some animals idk#find some joy for yourself that trans people can't ruin. and then u will know peace#i need a tag for my own rambles#trans stuff#queer stuff#t slur#by the way?#the masc trans woman?#the femme trans man?#are both me#the nonbinary person breaking stereotypes 5 ways with each item of clothing they wear?#is also me
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Say That Again?
A/N - This is my first imagine and I am going to be talking about Spot Conlon from the 1992 movie Newsies because I love him so much and whenever I read one, I can tell they are based off of the Broadway or Netflix version (I don’t know if they are the same?) But you know he is only 16 in the 1992 film, so he is technically a minor but I just feel he needs more love because I am angry he doesn’t get enough attention in the new versions, so get ready for some terrible plot whoops. It like starts off in a 3rd person view then goes into your perspective? I hope you understand I am so sorry. This is going to be a series so this is the first part. I don’t really know how many parts there are going to be but for now I think it’ll be around 4.
Word Count - 1.2k words
T/W - None? Except for really bad writing of New York accents ugh
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4
I am not who I say I am. Well in a way, I wasn’t exactly telling the truth, but only for my safety. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was not supposed to become a newsboy, technically, I’m not even supposed to be. But here I was. Ever since I was dumped on the streets by my parents, no jobs in the factories would take me due to all women scrounging up the last decent jobs in New York. I pickpocketed my way through starvation while in Harlem, and I stumbled into the Bronx in late September. I would watch the newsies from the corners and alleyways while stealing and picking up as much money as I could. I saw how talented they were in selling their ‘papes’. I was astounded by the amount of coins I could hear being placed in their pockets. I clearly had blanked out though, because I had the unpleasant experience of being noticed after I arrived in Manhattan while staring at a newsies who had sold 50 papes in under half an hour.
I had been peeking around the corner when I heard from behind me, “What’a doin’ he’a sweetheart?”
I spun around quickly and, out of reflex, I kicked the person off their legs. The person fell, giving me a good look at their face. It was a boy, maybe 16 or 17, with short, curly hair.
“Whoa, how did’a do that?” he said, looking up at me in astonishment. I looked at him dead in the eyes and then I snapped into a state of fear. Fear that he could beat me into a pulp, fear I would be in trouble.
“I-I am so sorry,” I grabbed his hand without thinking and pulled him up.
He is still looking down at me and he started to scratch his neck, “I, uh, Ise is real sorry ‘bout that, who is you though?” He asked. I stuck out my hand, maybe a bit too quickly and too stiff, and told him
“My name, is um, Y/N.” I felt him grip my hand, giving it a shake, I looked up at him,
“The name’s Mush, I dunno how I gots it, but it’s stuck to me character.” He told me with a smile. I smiled back at him before he asked,
“Ya know it’s gettin’ late out he’a, you’s got any place ta’ stay?” I look at him nervously. No, I didn’t, but I was worried what he would say if I told him so.
“I-uh, yeah, over in, uhm, Brooklyn? Yeah, Brooklyn.” I haphazardly told him. He goes wide-eyed.
“You’s from Brooklyn? What’a doin’ he’a?” He asked me, quickly.
“Just wandering through, ya know?” He still had a timid look in his eye. “You should be headin’ back soon?” He said with a kind-of smile, but I could tell he was a bit nervous. I pass him by when I hear him say,
“You want me to walks’ ya back?” He held out his arm to me. I smiled a bit before I took his arm, holding it a bit tighter once we left the alleyway. He must have noticed my grip and asked,
“Is you alright?” I tensed slightly once more, but once he asked, I calmed down and realized ‘it’s okay, he is trying to help me’.
“Yes! I am- I’m really sorry I didn’t mean ta’ worry you, I am sorry.” I say, head down because I was slightly embarrassed.
“Ya know, you’s say sorry a lot.” He told me with a slight chuckle.
“Sorry.” I gave a somewhat laugh. We snicker together before we noticed we were halfway across the bridge to Brooklyn, I noticed Mush had stopped.
I turned around and asked “Are you okay?” I told him. He looked forward towards the other side of the bridge, to Brooklyn. He looked slightly pale and at a loss for words.
“Are-are you okay?” I asked him again, slowly walking up to him. Again, no reply. I grab his arms slightly and give him a shake before he comes back to his senses.
“Oh-uh, you know’s who runs Brooklyn, right?” He asked. I looked at him quizzically before I told him,
“Um, no?” I said with a bit of edge.
“Spot Conlon, the ‘King of the Brooklyn Newsies’. He would kill me if I cross this bridge, I can’t just wanda’ onto his terf.” Mush explained. He went on, “New York is separated int’a boroughs. We here are in Manhattan, cross this bridge is Brooklyn.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right. New York is a bunch’a cities.” I told him simply
“Exactly, so I can’t cross or else they’ll see I isn’t suppos’a be there. They’ll soak me!” He told me in a serious yet upbeat way.
“Soak you? What does that even mean?” I questioned with a twisted face.
“They’ll beat me, gang up on me, and I don’t need that, what’da think?” He told me. “Shouldn’t you be headin’ to Brooklyn?”
I got scared for a second, I didn’t wanna get hurt or ‘soaked’. So, I had to tell this ‘Mush’ the truth.
“Mush?” I asked very quietly, scared of what he would say to me. I looked up to see him giving me a questioning look.
“I don’t actually live in Brooklyn. I don’t have a home. I was kicked out as a kid and have been on the streets for years so I don’t really need to cross this bridge and I don’t want me or anyone to get hurt. So please don’t make me go over there.” I said, standing really close, keeping my voice low as to not have attention drawn to us.
He didn’t exactly look surprised, who would? Kids were always thrown out if their parents couldn’t afford to feed them, so they were put on the streets to fend for themselves. If they didn’t know what they were doing, they would most likely die from starvation, so kids had to find money their own way, or wait for the their inevitable death.
“Y/N.” Mush said, slightly loud. “You’s blanked out there’s for a second.”
“Oh, um, sorry, what were you saying?” I asked, slightly flustered, embarrassed that I wasn’t listening.
“I asked if maybe you’s want to come back to me and the newsies lodgin’ house, ya know? So you can sleep in an actual bed for once in a while.” Mush said happily. I was shocked. I hadn’t slept in a bed in months, maybe even a few years, I didn’t really remember. The fact that he was offering left me stunned. Then it dawned on me,
“The Newsies Lodging House, aren’t there, you know, a lot of other newsies in there? Wouldn’t it be weird for me to just show up out of the blue? I would hate to pose as an inconvenience.” I said, rambling just a bit.
“Nah, they will be fine wit it, wheth’a they like it or not.” He said, peppy tone in his voice.
The sun started setting once we finally stopped talking and headed back. I still took a casual glance back toward the other side of the bridge while it was still in view.
What could this Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn really be?
#newsies#newsies x reader#newsies 1992#newsies musical#spot conlon#spot conlon x reader#spot conlon imagine
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