#this kid also purposely misgendered me

[i-am-going-to-skream]

Today i was reminded of how annoying people can be and how they are inferior to animals.

Sure my cat might piss on everything bc he’s a dickhead. But at least he doesn’t call me slurs, tell me to kms repeatedly, and act like an edgy child tryna look cool.

[steakout-05]

i think there is a very special category of "most dense mfer in the world" for people irl who somehow misgender me (and continue to misgender me) despite me wearing multiple layers of men's clothing, cutting my hair short, not shaving, binding my chest and wearing a very visible and big he/him pin on my bag. disrespectfully: how the actual hell did you fuck up that badly.

[crimeboys]

i’ve had people debate my gender before but not two adults so loudly and literally right in front of me as i count their change. they were like trying to make fucking points like “well his voice is deep” “yeah, but she has long pretty hair” and neither asked even once.

[blackberryjambaby]

everyone congratulate me i didn't attack & kill my uncle even though i really wanted to

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 1: A New Prophet

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slow burn; enemies to friends to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/injury; cutting (not to self, but still); religious/cult-like ideas

Note: So the idea for this started as a prequel to my first fic (linked here), but ended up turning into something different. It basically follows the plot of Abby’s Seattle Day 1, diverging from canon where necessary and using dialogue from the game wherever possible.

This is a lot of build-up (important to the story and hopefully enjoyable to read), but I promise romance is on the horizon!

Also, the idea of deadnaming or misgendering Lev—even in the flashback part where they’re little kids and wouldn’t have known otherwise—physically pains me, so we’re going to pretend that reader has been calling Lev “L” as a nickname for forever.

Hope you enjoy! :)

----------------------------------------------------------------

April 2038

Abby knew as much about the Scars as any of her fellow WLF members.

She knew that the group was founded by a woman who claimed to have a vision after the initial outbreak of Cordyceps brain infection in 2013, and then started spouting some bullshit about how it was all just a punishment for the sins of humanity. Said that the way to move forward was to go back to the basics. Live off the land. Reject technology and progress and pretty much all the good things in life.

She knew that they live on the island but they wouldn’t fucking stay on it, and that there was once a truce but they broke it, forcing the WLF into an endless war.

She knew that they fought hard and killed brutally, without hesitation or remorse.

She knew that, especially now that Joel was taken care of, killing Scars was pretty much her life’s purpose.

And she knew that the woman who started all of this became known as The Prophet. And that Isaac gave the order to have her killed ten years ago.

It was for that reason that Abby thought Isaac must have misspoken when he opened with:

“The Prophet is on the move.”

He was standing over the large map of Seattle in the center of the room, hands braced on the table, head down in thought.

She didn’t know what to make of that. Or how to respond. A quick glance over at Manny confirmed that she wasn’t the only one who was confused.

One of them had to ask. It seemed Isaac wasn’t going to fill in the gaps unprompted.

“The Prophet?” Manny questioned hesitantly. “Sir… respectfully… She’s been dead for years. Died before we even joined.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m the one who killed her.” Isaac was always calm and measured, almost always spoke quietly. But sometimes there was something beneath his words, just below the surface. Something seething and kind of terrifying, although Abby would never admit that out loud. This was one of those times.

“My unwilling informants downstairs,” he said, referring to the captive Scars being held and interrogated on the building’s lower levels, “tell me that they have a new Prophet. One their Elders have been quietly grooming for the role for the last decade, maybe even longer.”

“Okay so… What does that mean?” Abby asked, finding her voice. This was not the conversation she was expecting to have when she heard that Isaac wanted to talk to them. She had hoped to get some answers about what was going on with Owen.

“There’s a reason why they’ve been more resilient lately. Bolder. Even more bat-shit than normal.” He clenched his fists on the table. “This… Neo-Prophet,” Isaac almost laughed, the words coated in venom, “is about to fully step into her role. She is of age now. Or so I’ve been told.”

Abby stared at Isaac, still waiting for him to tell her what all of this meant. And what exactly he wanted her to do about it.

Manny jumped in. “What? So the Scars are… celebrating? You’re saying that’s why they’ve been ballsier? Killing more of us. Pushing further inland.”

Abby let out a short laugh. “If this is what it looks like when they’re happy, I don’t want to see what happens when they’re mad.”

Isaac remained stoic. “They have a renewed sense of purpose. When we killed their first Prophet, the Scars were enraged. They fought hard for vengeance. But people will only fight on behalf of a dead woman for so long. Passion for the cause wanes without something tangible to fight for. They need that higher authority to look to. They need someone to honor and defend. Their Elders were smart enough to know that their people need a unifying symbol. A living one.”

“Right, and you said that unifying symbol was on the move so…” Abby said. “Want us to hunt her down? See what they’ll do when we take away their new favorite toy?”

“No,” Isaac said quickly. “She’s not our target. We’ll get to her in due time.”

“Then wha—”

He cut her off. “The Prophet will be leaving the island soon, for the first time. In fact, it’s possible she’s already here. One of our captives tells me there will be some sort of initiation for her. I don’t know what that entails, but I’m sure it will involve attempting to kill some of ours. I’ll spend some more time with our friends downstairs and see if I can’t get any more information on that. We’ll try to prevent it if we can, but that’s not our main focus right now.” Abby opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off once again. “With the Prophet away and many of their best soldiers traveling with her, the island will be more vulnerable than ever.”

Manny gestured to the map, reinserting himself into the conversation. “Sir, we’ve tried attacking their island and—”

“Not like this,” Isaac said. “Not with everyone. There’s a big storm a few days out. We’re going to use it to mask our approach. And you two are going to lead the first wave. Pick your squads. Start prepping.”

“And the Prophet?” Abby asked.

“One battle at a time, Abby.”

“Are we sure it would be a battle?” she pressed. “Isaac, she’s just one girl.”

“You would be foolish to underestimate this unknown enemy. Besides the likelihood that the best of the Scars will be at her side, I don’t doubt that she will be a very skilled fighter in her own right.” Abby huffed. Isaac continued, “And if she’s anything like her predecessor, the greatest threat is in her words. Not her actions. I watched some of my most loyal soldiers abandon our cause for theirs after just one conversation with the one who came before her.”

At this, Abby raised her eyebrows, ready to argue. A look from Manny shut her up.

“We’ve only got one shot at this… And this is bigger than any of us.” Isaac pushed off the table, walking over to Abby and placing a hand on her arm. “I need you, Abby.”

She shifted uncomfortably before relenting, giving a curt nod. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Good.” He pulled away, heading toward the door. “Look over the plans and go through your rosters.”

“I want Owen,” she said. Abby thought Isaac could at least give her that.

When he denied her permission to go look for Owen, Abby went anyway.

----------------------------------------------------------------

March 2030 (8 Years Earlier)

The day of your scarring had been the first time Haven saw the sun in weeks.

Your mother said it was a sign. But your mother thought everything was a sign.

She told you that, no matter what, you were not to cry. That you, her only child, would not disgrace her by shedding tears during your ceremony.

You were to be brave. And strong.

The Prophet herself had ordained the act of scarring for all of her followers. A symbol of the innate imperfection of mankind. And so her people would never forget their own failings, even in the midst of their unending efforts towards perfection.

No one was meant to question the Prophet’s teachings, or the Elders who had taken on the responsibility of interpreting those teachings and carrying out Her will since Her death two years prior.

You could feel your mother’s breath against the back of your head as she huffed and decided that she was once again unsatisfied with your hair, roughly taking it down and beginning again for the fourth time.

While she worked, you sat still on the wooden stool in front of her and stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to memorize your features as they were now.

This was the last time you would see the face you knew. Next time you looked in the mirror, you would be different. Would you feel different?

You tried to picture yourself scarred, with two thin lines running from each of your ears to the corners of your mouth. Your eyes stung, tears threatening to fall at the thought.

But there would be no crying today.

Instead, you let your eyes wander to your mother’s reflection, hovering just behind and above yours in the mirror. You examined her face. Of course, you had never seen her without her scars, but you’d always thought your mother was beautiful.

Maybe the change in your appearance would not be so drastic. Maybe it was vain to care.

You were not supposed to be vain.

Once your mother was satisfied with the look of the braided crown of your hair, she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting you gaze in the mirror.

“We are imperfect beings,” she recited. You joined your voice with hers for the second part, “And thus we make ourselves imperfect in Her eyes.”

She smiled softly, squeezing your arms lightly. “Good girl. I’m proud of you. I know you will do wonderfully today.” You tried to return her smile. “Now. Get dressed. I laid your clothes out on the bed.”

She turned to leave you, pausing in the doorway. “Remember what I said, child. No tears today. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. Obediently.

She seemed pleased as she left the room.

You changed quickly, wondering if she had been able to tell that you’d spent the whole night before crying. You hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep.

The stool squeaked as you sat back down, not sure what to do with yourself while you waited. You met your own eyes in the mirror once more, this time immediately averting your gaze. You felt sick. And close to tears. And so very scared.

On the other side of the door, you could hear Yara and her mom greeting your mother. The eight-year-old asked if she could come inside to see you. After just a moment of hesitation, your mother allowed it, and you could hear the slight creak of the door as she came in.

Yara said your name quietly, standing just inside the door. You turned to look at her. She smiled, happy to see you, just as always.

“Happy birthday!” she whispered excitedly, closing the distance between you and wrapping her arms around you tightly. You squeezed her back, holding her close for longer than usual. Yara, never one to be the first to break a hug, lingered for as long as you wanted her there.

You were neighbors, and your mothers had grown up together and had always been close. And although Yara was four years younger than you, the two of you were close too. She and five-year-old baby L were your siblings, as far as you were concerned.

Yara was mature for her age, even more so than most of your other friends. You knew you could trust her, so with her you were honest.

“I’m really scared,” you said quietly into her hair, still not releasing her from the embrace.

“I know,” she whispered back, squeezing you even tighter. “You’re the bravest person ever though. I know you can do this.”

You finally let go, retreating back to your stool, but Yara stayed close by, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly with one hand.

“She will be with you through this, and for all the days of your life,” she said, earnest. “Our pain is Her pain, and Her pain is ours.”

You couldn’t help but make a mental note of the fact that the Prophet actually did not receive the same scars as all of her followers, so perhaps this one specific pain is one that was not, in fact, shared between to two of you.

But Yara’s comment was made with a level of sincerity that you couldn’t help but admire—and borderline envied—so you chose to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Her presence was always a comfort, so you allowed yourself to relish in it for a quiet minute before your mother reentered the room.

“It’s time to leave,” she said simply. Firmly.

Behind her, just outside the door, you could see Yara’s mom standing there, holding a quiet but curious little L’s hand. They would all be walking over with you to witness the ceremony.

You forced yourself to stand, brushed your hands down your thighs as if to clear some nonexistent dust and smooth the phantom wrinkles. For a moment, you considered taking one last look in the mirror, but ultimately deciding against it. It would feel strange to do so, now that everyone was watching you and waiting.

For the briefest moment, you thought about making a run for it. Stealing a boat or even attempting to make the swim to the mainland. You could survive on your own, or maybe even join the Wolves. You weren’t scarred yet. You could lie about where you came from, and they would probably take you in…

The hiss of your name from your mother’s mouth ripped you back into reality, along with a gentle nudge from Yara.

You took a deep breath and started walking.

Once the home of the Prophet herself, Sanctuary was one of your people’s primary places of worship, second only to Martyr’s Gate on the mainland. (You had never seen it – You’d never left the island – so Sanctuary was where you most often prayed.)

Scarring ceremonies were held there, always on a child’s twelfth birthday.

You had witnessed many friends receive their scars. It was customary to attend the ceremonies of those close to you. Family, friends.  

The process was always the same.

Elder Constance would lead all those gathered in a prayer, holding the ceremonial blade. You would recite a version of the Prophet’s Prayer. The blade would be blessed. Then Elder Duncan would make the incisions before welcoming you as an official member, a child of the Prophet.

It never took very long. Everyone had work to get back to, tasks to fulfill.

You would soon come to find that your ceremony would not be like any of those others.

The first indication of this was the sheer number of people who were gathered at Sanctuary. You had never seen this many people gathered in one place at one time, many of the faces you did not recognize.

As you approached the dais, the crowd silently parted for you, all eyes examining you carefully as if looking for something unseen. You couldn’t begin guess what it was.

You wanted to go home. You wanted to cry. To hold your mother’s hand. You wanted to not be here at all. Ever. For this to be a horrible nightmare.

Why were there so many people here?

Your eyes met Elder Constance’s. She was stiff and serious, as always, but there was a brightness in her eyes that you were not accustomed to seeing. A quick glance at Elder Duncan revealed a similar expression on his face.

The other five Elders also stood on the stage. Another thing that was unusual for a simple scarring ceremony.

Had you done something wrong? Were you in trouble?

You looked ahead, and your legs continued to carry you forward, despite your internal protestations.

When your feet were nearly touching the first step up, you stopped. And although your mind went blank, your body remembered what to do.

You bowed your head to each of the Elders, silently waiting to be greeted and invited onto the dais.

“Welcome, child, on this most joyous day!” Elder Constance’s voice boomed, carrying enough for everyone gathered to hear. “Come. Join us.”

You fought the urge to turn around and find your mother. You wanted to look at her face, to see if she knew what was happening.

But you knew that any moves you made in this moment other than exactly what was expected of you would be seen as hesitation, and therefore disgraceful. And you didn’t want your mother to be angry.

So you did as Elder Constance said, and you climbed the steps.

Your vision blurred. You tried to focus on your breathing.

“Two years ago, the ignoble Wolves took our beloved Prophet from us,” she began once you were standing center-stage. The reaction from the audience was instantaneous, full of outrage and despair. Elder Constance allowed this to continue for several moments before holding up her hand; and the noise stopped just a quickly as it began.

“But She is not dead! For the Prophet’s spirit cannot be killed by the evils of mankind.” The crowd hung on her every word as she continued, “She lives in all of us. In our actions and in our virtues. In Her teachings.”

“Here before you are all of your Elders, appointed to this honorable position by our Prophet, most wonderful and wise. She speaks to us, and it is our duty—our privilege—to share her words with you.”

“But today, She does not have words for us.” Elder Constance paused, the audience hushed, waiting for the reveal. “It is Her heavenly desire to give us a new source of hope. An advocate. A champion… A new Prophet.”

Elder Constance’s hands landed on your shoulders.

“Today, She has chosen Her successor.”

The crowd erupted in celebration.

You went completely numb and tuned them all out.

The Elders continued to speak, and the people continued to celebrate. All the while, your mind was reeling and your face was blank.

A new Prophet?

There can’t be a new Prophet.

What does that even mean?

There have never been any prophets except for THE Prophet.

And if there does need to be a new Prophet, why would it be you?

Why you?

Why you?

Why you?

It can’t be you.

If any of your questions were answered, you didn’t hear it above the ringing in your head.

Your attention was drawn to the blade that was now in Elder Constance’s hands, and you forced yourself to again begin to listen.

“…The Neo-Prophet will take on her full responsibilities when the time is right. But until then…” She continued on with familiar words, ones used in a typical scarring ceremony to bless the blade before it was used.

The knife was then passed down the line of Elders, each of them lifting it above their head and reciting the same words.

Your legs suddenly felt very weak.

Elder Duncan blessed the blade last and stepped forward, positioning himself just a couple feet away from you. You turned to him just as you knew you were supposed to.

This was the part in the ceremony when you would usually say a version of The Prophet’s Prayer. You weren’t sure if you were still meant to do that, given the circumstances, but you were operating solely on instincts now, so you began, “The world is not in balance, but I will do my part to right it.”

You weren’t speaking nearly as loud as the Elders had. You hoped you were loud enough. You hoped you were doing it right.

The pleased look on Elder Duncan’s face indicated that you had done well, but before you could go on with the next line, all of the Elders continued the prayer together:

“You will lead us through the storm May the current be calm May You guide us home.”

Their words had been slightly altered from the classic prayer, different than you would’ve said it if you had been given the chance. The strangest part was that they were speaking to you.

Almost like they were praying to you…

Elder Duncan took another step forward, gripping the knife.

You expected him to use his other hand to lift your face, to hold it at the best angle for the scarring. You’d seen him do the same to others many times before.

This was the part that you knew was coming. You had been at least attempting to prepare for it. You could handle it.

But you were thrown off once again when instead, he took your right wrist in his free hand and gently pressed your fingers down, making you form a fist. He then lifted your hand until it was by your ear, knuckles facing inward, arm bent at the elbow. His own hand gripped your elbow, holding your arm in place.

You were frozen, with no choice but to watch as the knife met the outside of your forearm and sank in. A slow, straight line was carved from the top of your wrist all the way to your elbow.

You didn’t look away. You didn’t cry. You did as you were told.

You wanted to go home.

“We are imperfect beings. And thus, we make ourselves imperfect in Your eyes.” Elder Duncan said, meeting your gaze. “It is for this reason that we proudly wear our scars on our faces.”

When his work was done, he released your right elbow and moved on to the left, lifting that arm into the same position. “But the Prophet, in Her kindness, bears the weight of our imperfections, carrying all of us in her arms. This is why You will wear your scars here.”

“Remember that You are part of us, but set apart.” The blade pierced the skin of your left forearm, and a twin incision was formed. “We look to You, Prophet. May She guide you. May She protect you.” With that, he took a step back, lowering the knife.

You slowly lowered your arms to your sides and turned back to face the enraptured crowd.

Finally, you found your mother among them.

And she was crying.

“My friends,” Elder Constance declared, gesticulating dramatically, “Your Prophet!”

The cheers were deafening.

As you scanned the masses, you felt the blood ooze down your arms and curl around your fingers, pooling on the ground by your feet.

You found Yara, who was somehow clapping and cheering more enthusiastically than anyone else. And then you saw L, held up on their mother’s hip, face concerned, eyes wide and wary.

At least someone was as skeptical as you were.

You wondered if you would get to go home now.

But Elder Constance placed her hands on your shoulders again, this time turning you and leading you in the opposite direction, into the Prophet’s grand house. Into Sanctuary.

There, servants’ gentle hands carefully cleaned your stinging wounds, took down and brushed out your hair, and helped you change into a new white dress.

You would never live in your mother’s house again.

And it would be eight years before anyone addressed you by your name.

[cantheykillmacbeth]

im honestly kinda surprised this hasnt been brought up before, but could darth vader kill macbeth, from a certain point of view?

No, Darth Vader from Star Wars could not kill Macbeth.

We know for a fact that he does not apply for Gender or Birth Parent, as he is male and his mother is female. I also cannot find any information to suggest he wasn’t born conventionally.

There are a few weird little blips on my radar, the first being his immaculate conception by...methods I don't have the willpower to explain. But, as we’ve stated before, conception doesn’t matter (see: Jesus Christ) No matter how the kid got in there, what matters is how they come out. And I can find nothing to suggest that this part of his origin is in any way noteworthy.

Another is his apparent dodging of prophecy, being the Chosen One, foretold to bring balance to the force and all that. But he did. That’s the important part. He did, in fact, bring about the downfall of the Sith and bring balance to the Force. That’s a pretty big part of his character is that he Did Do The Thing™.

There’s also a comment about him being “more machine than man” at one point. It…seems the conclusion was machine, though this also doesn’t particularly flag me as anything to do with Macbeth. Vader is capable of independent thought and identifies as a man. And if one comment about you being “not a real man” is enough, then any man who has ever been misgendered counts. And I refuse to let the transphobes win.

It could be argued that him being revived is a sort of birth, and that could be considered unconventional. But, if that were the case, anyone who had died and come back to life would qualify (see: Jesus Christ) Rebirth isn’t on the same level as an actual birth for the purposes of the Macbeth prophecy. 

In the end, Darth Vader is a person capable of conscious thought who identifies as male, born to a woman, allegedly through conventional means. With no unique exceptions, I’m going to have to give this one a no.

Thanks for your submission!

-Mod Pepper

[biceratops7]

So here’s the thing,

Being visibly queer to the point of ostracism is historically synonymous with gender nonconformity and I don’t think that’s a conversation some are ready to have.

Gender nonconformity as it pertains to Stede is a hot button topic of debate in the fandom rn, and I love that! So much! Queer theory shit is in right now? Sign me tf up! But I see a lot of posts answering “no” to “does Stede wear feminine clothing?” as if it’s the same question. It’s also being talked about as a binary “to be” or “not to be” as if gender nonconformity is not a concept experienced on a spectrum.

Even if Stede’s clothing can be considered reasonably “masculine” with all the anachronisms, picking flowers, not being able to stomach a “man’s” job, and wearing robes that cause other characters to misgender him are harder sells. The number one thing I see the “Stede is NOT gnc” side say is that these things are only associated with femininity if you’re seeing them from a stereotypical lense. And well… yah. Gender nonconformity is a social construct. That’s what a social construct is. Enjoying bright colors, preferring non-confrontational solutions, wearing a skirt, having long hair, these are all things that are not biologically innate to women. They’re extra characteristics our society uses to construct the idea of a woman. That’s also why gender nonconformity hinges on the cultural context as well. Different societies, different rules.

In order to understand where people are coming from when they say Stede is gnc and use the queerphobia he experiences as evidence, you have to look at the metaphysics. What is homophobia in its original form? What is it made of? I’d argue it’s purest components are the fear that the divides between men and women will break down. It’s considered “an abomination” because sleeping with a man is seen as the natural duty of a woman, and for women, sleeping with a man. Beyond that, all of the baggage that comes with those extra characteristics I mentioned follows suit. Lesbians were by and large excluded from womanhood, in some points of history specifically bottoming was illegal because it was “placing yourself in a woman’s position”, etc.

And that’s not to say masc gay men don’t experience homophobia, they absolutely do. I’m just saying if Stede is experiencing specifically the same bigotry as non-passing queer people do in the form of being excluded from his own gender and even from others in his group, then I don’t think he’s one of those men.

Honestly a thousand kudos to @eluciferate for already bringing Albert from “The Birdcage” to the conversation. Cause he really is the perfect example of not only gender nonconformity beyond the literal surface, but the fact that for many it’s a state of being rather than a conscious choice of queer empowerment. When Albert’s son brings home a girl with very conservative parents, and Albert attempts to “play straight” for his sake… he can’t do it. Even in ultra masculine clothes and trying his best, the nonconformity shines through like toes poking out of old shoes.

Fuck, Stede wasn’t kidding when he said he was “uncomfortable in a married state”. Even the way he carries himself back home looks carefully minded, like his whole life is a play he was horribly miscast for. In other words sometimes you didn’t purposely decide to stick it to the heteronormative man. Sometimes with great gayness comes great responsibility and that’s that.

Jokes aside, we can nickel and dime all his frilly little affects all we want, but at the end of the day Stede is gender nonconforming in a way that goes beyond aesthetic. And I think a lot of people may be hesitant to read him this way because it requires you to acknowledge homophobia in the show, that Stede’s queerness is commented on and something he actively has to mind before even knowing what it is.

[izzyspussy]

Rating Ted Lasso Characters Based On If They'd Respect My Pronouns (Correctly)

Roy "We Stayed At GAY Til 3AM And Then We Had Crepes With Some Drag Queens" Kent: 11/10 no fucking shit. He would defend me from misgendering also, even if we weren't friends. He's the very embodiment of that guy who fought the trans guy and then fought the authority figure who scolded him for hitting a girl.

Nate "Genius (Code for Autistic)" Shelley: 11/10 are you kidding. If only quarantine had happened in his universe he'd have pronouns too. Also his girlfriend obviously already does.

Jamie "Prettyboy" Tartt: 11/10 duh. No, he doesn't know off the top of his head what part of speech a pronoun is, but only because nothing in the universe could matter less. And much like Roy, if he saw someone else being contrarian for the purposes of being a prick for absolutely no earthly reason, he would be eager to do something about it.

Keeley "Just The Tip" Jones: 11/10 did you see her. Never have I personally received more solidarity than from (butches and) full tilt Barbie Girl femmes like Keeley. She may be cis and she wears "women's" clothes, but she's still doing drag every day. She gets it.

Colin "Right by This Pink Triangle?" Hughes: 11/10 obviously. He would be so good at not making a big deal out of doing it correctly himself or correcting others, because he knows what it's like to just want to live your authentic life without being a spectacle.

Coach "You Should See Him In Drag" Beard: 11/10 which you should've guessed. Look at him. Look at him with your heart. You know he has pronouns you've never even heard of that he takes out for special occasions.

Ted "We Don't Not Care" Lasso: 11/10 why is this even a question. Practically the entirety of Ted's goals in life are to be respectful and kind and help others do the same. Sometimes that's hard and he fucks it up, but this is easy. C'mon.

Sam "Social Justice Warrior" Obisanya: 11/10 like. Obviously. I have nothing else to say, like. Obviously. Obviously.

Bumber-"Impending Class War"-catch: 11/10. If anything, given the opportunity, he would encourage me to have more pronouns.

Dani "Joy" Rojas: 11/10. These are getting very simple now, and require less and less explanation. He promotes joy. What else do you want.

Rebecca "Ask Your Daughter What It Means" Welton: 11/10. She's a cutthroat and a genuine feminist. She doesn't care if a bunch of freaks are scared of strangers' genitals, and she's certainly not going to let something so petty get in her own way.

Jan "I've Run Out of Fun Epithets For Everyone And He Wouldn't Mind This Unfun One That's Blunt About That Fact" Maas: 11/10 of course. There's no logical, moral, or social reason not to, and there is a wealth of evidence supporting gender affirming behavior.

Isaac McAdoo: 11/10. And he would (unnecessarily) instruct all the other lads to do it too. He might struggle with it at first if we had known each other previous to my transition, but not out of malice or negligence, and once he got on track he'd stay there for life.

Leslie Higgins: 11/10. He's a jazz musician with ten thousand gen Z children. He knows at least as many trans people already as any natural member of the queer community.

The Rest of The Lads: 11/10. We all know this to be true. Next.

Georgie Tartt: 11/10. Have you seen her son. She's prepared for this.

Sharon Fieldstone: 11/10. Have you seen her do her job. She's good at it.

Dottie Lasso: 9/10. Her heart's in the right place and that matters! She is inescapably Midwestern in both the good ways and the bad ways, though.

Jake: 8/10. Have you seen him do his job. He's bad at it.

Rupert Mannion: 6/10. He's a trans inclusive misogynist lmao. He also will treat correct pronoun usage as a privilege if he gets butthurt enough.

James Tartt: 3/10. He'd respect a trans man who performed masculinity to his standards, but he is definitely afraid of girlymen and women who are better than him (most women).

[girlashfur]

Transmisogyny In The Warriors Fandom : The Mothpool Issue

hi, my name is muyang / @girlashfur and i'm a transfeminine being who enjoys the fictional series of warrior cats. i've been into this book series for as long as i can remember, ever since i was a little kid. and growing up with this fandom, i've noticed a reocurring issue among it, which i aim to do a break-down of now.

the issue is transmisogyny. for those who are unaware : transmisogyny is the unique combination and overlap of misogyny and transphobia, specifically targeting transfeminine individuals. it's a widespread issue in just about every corner of the world, even spaces for transgender and otherwise queer individuals seem to have a problem with being transmisogynistic, intentionally or not. the warriors fandom is not exempt from this; and they're not special, either, i'm yet to encounter a popular fictional fanbase that doesn't have several transmisogynists among it's members. but the warriors fandom seems to have a peculiar way of going about it.

to start, i want to clarify that there seems to be...a surprising lack of transfem warriors fans to begin with; i can name about three off the top of my head, not counting myself, compared to hundreds of cisgender, transmasc, or otherwise tme (transmisogyny exempt) fans. perhaps we're just underrepresented, i'm sure there's more of us out there, but nonetheless i'd like to make it clear i'm writing this mainly based off of what i personally have experienced and witnessed in this fandom. my word may not speak for every transfem person, and that's okay.

transmisogyny isn't always violent and obvious; it's not always slurs and misgendering and harrassment, although don't get me wrong, plenty of transmisogynists do engage in such a way. but it can also be a subtle practice, something most tme people would not pick up on. like all systems of oppression, it can also be a learned behavior, one somebody witnesses happen (typically unpunished) and assumes is okay to recreate. one of the ways this can happen is through the objectification and sexualization of transfeminity. stereotypes are a common form of this. oftentimes, transfeminine characters are portrayed as violent and agressive, masculine and gruff, or as suave and predatory womanizers, sometimes a mixture of all three.

the warriors fandom does this often. there are several characters that are commonly headcanoned as transfem by the fandom, and most are victim to being portrayed this way. a few i can think of off the top of my head are cats like russetfur, crowfeather, mapleshade, darktail, tree, and yes...mothwing. mothwing is a bit of a special case, because i believe most people only headcanon her as transfeminine so they can ship her with leafpool (the ship commonly named mothpool) and imagine the two with biological kittens, in some aus, even as the three's parents.

this is a form of objectification already, although one might not catch onto it immediately. mothwing's transness is turned into a token, a special card to be exchanged to fit the fandom's idolized version of the ship. one could argue it could be interpreted as sexualization as well; while the warriors fandom tends to stray away from outright sexual portrayals of the cats (for good and obvious reasons), mothwing being transfem is still only done for the purpose of making her a cat with a penis, so she can have kits.

mothwing isn't canonically a particularly violent or angry cat, nor does she seem to be particularly romantic (she actually doesn't have a canon mate at all, being a medicine cat). however, in fandom based portrayals of her, she's often twisted to fit these stereotypes. sometimes she's designed to be large and masculine with the excuse of it being because she's a tigerkin, or sometimes she's portrayed as being very proud and open about her love of leafpool (who is often portrayed as shy and defenseless, practically hiding behind her). i've seen several aus with transfem mothwing in them "conveniently" include things like her formerly training as a warrior, or killing another cat (such as crowfeather) "for leafpool", or even portraying her as evil, typically falling to the manipulation of her father.

mothpool as a ship isn't really the issue here. it's the fandom's doing. the two have quite a few canon interactions that could be portrayed as romantic, and sure, it's really not my buisness what people ship as long as it's legal and all...but when you get exposed to so much hidden transmisogyny tied to one ship, as a victim of transmisogyny, you grow kinda wary of the ship as a whole. the few transfeminine people i've spoken to about this issue seemed to share my feelings as well. the moment i see a mothpool shipper mention making mothwing trans, i get shivers.

another point i'd like to make clear is that it's not every mothpool shipper doing this either, even out of the ones who do make her trans, i've met a few who portrayed it well and seemed very open and concerned about my views on transfem mothwing as a transfem person. i'm also certainly not saying you should go harrass people for shipping what they want, that's not my point nor is it helpful. as i've mentioned before, there's a good chance some of the people portraying mothpool in harmful ways like this don't fully realize what they're doing, and think it's okay because it's something they've seen before. i don't want those people to think they're bad for falling into those false beliefs, as long as they change them when they realize how they're offensive.

what i'm aiming to do here is give my two cents on why i generally dislike the ship as a transfeminine being myself, and to also spread awareness to why i feel that way. if i can make some people out there rethink some transmisogynist views they had perpetuated before, then my work is done well. as i'm finishing off this little essay of mine, i hope my message was explained clearly and gently, as it should be. see you guys in the next post, muyang out.

[3v3ry0n3z-fav3-al13n-x3]

wat did TikTok do?/genq/nm

( if I get a bit aggressive pls be aware that I'm not mad towards u )

Ok so uh

I got bullied off of there for being "cringe" ( aka for mainly being queer / trans, dressing alternative and having neopronouns and xenogenders )

I even got death threats cuz I was "cringe"

I got misgendered on purpose 24 / 7 on there ( even when I put my fcking pronouns IN THE VIDEOS )

One of my ex mutuals on there turned into a cyber stalker and harassed me on their different alt accounts and different social medias. ( Also started misgendering and told me I'm "not really trans" cuz I was using xenogenders )

My mental health got even worse than it already was because of that app

Every fcking day was hell on that app, on my last video I posted before finally deleting my account the comments were like 90% hate cuz I was HAPPY ABOUT HAVING A NEW PARTNER. It was too much for me so I just deleted my account without saying anything cuz fuck the people on there

Idm if you or anyone else uses that app, but if you ask me about it, it was fcking hell on there and I really hope it'll get completely shut down one day just so the kids on there could hopefully regain their braincells.

[elysisticism]

Dear Queer Kids: It Doesn’t Get Better

The news cycle from the past few months could break your heart, over and over and over again. It consistently spits out stories of our community’s most painful incidents of directed hate, in violent and gory detail. And there’s a new one every time you turn around.

Lately, the theme has been transphobic fear mongering and increased restriction on an even more vulnerable subset: trans youth. The vitriol has always been there, it just wasn’t always so blatantly acted upon, especially so close to home. The hate speech has moved from whispers behind closed doors to shouts in the street, to the mouths of our politicians, to the ink spilled out on our legislation. The consequences are dire: suicide, assault, murder.

This pride month, as I reflect on the past year, I remember the tragic assault and subsequent death of Nex Benedict, a 15-year-old non-binary student just trying to use the school bathroom. I am reminded of my days as a queer and trans kid. It has been over a decade since I was stuck attending public school, but I vividly remember the uncertainty, the fear, and the hopelessness. When my carefully built scaffolding of adult queer life is stripped away, these are the emotions that remain.

At that time, there was a popular campaign, mostly by out gay celebrities like Ellen DeGeneres (we didn’t have a lot of visible trans adults back then) featuring them assuring queer kids, from their mansions, sports cars, or Hollywood sets, that it gets better. I remember the sentiment ringing quite hollow. When you are so immensely vulnerable and in pain in the very present moment, it doesn’t help hearing that it will get better in some far-off imaginary future. We didn’t know if we’d survive until then.

Now, reflecting on the last ten years from a vantage point above the chaos of teenage life, it would still ring hollow. You need to know that it doesn’t get better – it gets different.

As a non-binary teenager, one of my biggest hurdles wasn’t hate, it was invisibility. It may be because of my privilege as a less feminine, middle-class white kid, or my propensity to people-please, stay quiet, and focus on academics, but I was rarely a victim of deliberate and directed transphobia or discrimination. This doesn’t mean that those teenage years were easy for me. Invisibility comes with its own set of hardships: constant misgendering, gaslighted excuses for why it was ‘too difficult to understand,’ and a reputation as the ‘weird kid’ ate at me each day, nibble by nibble. Illegibility shielded me from targeted violence, but it also shielded my true self from the world. From underneath the covers, I could peak out at a world that was barely beginning to accept cisgender gay couples, and pretend to be asleep (deny my truth and project myself as girl) when the wrong type of attention was drawn, dreaming of a time when it would get better, and I would be recognized for who I am.

Slowly, the transgender community has gained societal awareness through campaigns, media attention, and the hard work of queer activists. However, not all attention is good attention. With an increase in general dialogue surrounding the transgender community has come an increase in hateful dialogue, misinformation, bigoted rhetoric, and violent actions. To be clear, the hate is not new: gender non-conformity has been seen as unacceptable for generations of Western society. However, the hate has evolved and gained traction amongst those who can use it for their own gain.

In the present moment, hate against such a miniscule but exposed minority of the general population is a rallying point, a dog-whistle, and a distraction. Fueled by disinformation, purposeful misunderstandings, and exaggerated or blatantly false claims, transgender people have become a common enemy. To the loudest of our critics, we never were individual humans with unique actions, aspirations, and lives we are attempting to live free of violence. Instead, we symbolize an attack on the status quo and everyone who belongs to it or benefits from it. Truly, I do not believe that most people have an ingrained motive to hate our community; what they hate is the feelings of vulnerability that emerge within themselves as a reaction to societal changes beyond their control. Spurred on by certain faith leaders, politicians, and influencers, they have turned this fear into anger and have directed it those more marginalized than themselves.

The consequences of this movement are now beginning to come to fruition. Transgender youth looking to participate in sports, get an education, or merely go to the bathroom face a barrage of restrictions, discrimination, and violence. The most vulnerable members of our community who do not experience outright beatings will absorb the environment of hate that has seeped into our institutions and transform it into self-loathing. At best, self-loathing shuts tight and locks the closet door, preventing queer kids from ever experiencing and sharing their true selves. At worst, self-loathing turns to careless risk-taking, self-harm, and suicide. Simply put, transphobia on the societal level leads to trans death again and again and again.

Perhaps this age-old song of hate will decrescendo, but it will always be audible in the background of our lives. The privileged fearful will find a new victim-enemy, re-concentrate on another vulnerable group, and begin to ignore us once again. Then, just as we did after the second world war, after the government purge, and after the HIV/AIDS crisis we will quietly emerge from the shadows, take stock of our circumstances, mourn our dead, and continue to live. We will learn their new rhetoric, we will educate a new generation, and we will advocate for the most vulnerable amongst us. We will survive again and again and again.

It doesn’t get better - it gets different. Yet we adapt to this difference every time and every time we continue to survive.

But if it doesn’t get better, if the hate continues to circulate, evolving and reforming each time, why must we endure? Why should our community, and our youth, continue to subject themselves to the same violence experienced by our queer ancestors?

Queer youth of today, you must know that there is more to life than perpetual hate. The storm may rage around us, but there will be moments where you find yourself in the eye. When you finally put on that item of clothing and the mirror reflects back the true essence of who you are; when you find the group of friends and chosen family that stick with you, no matter what; when you look your partner in the eye and spark that feeling of belonging, feeling of home.

These islands of queer joy sustain us, nurture us, and remind us of why we fight again and again and again.

You don’t need to listen to those privileged celebrities in their mansions, sports cars, and Hollywood sets telling you it gets better in some distant future. You also don’t need to listen to the hate-mongering faith-leaders, politicians, and influencers. What you need, and what I know is out there for you, is a community of allies, peers, and queer elders that will assure you that you are welcome, just the way you are.

This is how we continue in the face of hate, violence, and death. We gather – in secret, in public, online, in person, covertly, in colourful displays, at protests, at memorials, out loud, and in whispers. We find each other and we hold fast to one another, we support each other, we care for each other, and we ensure our own survival.

I must tell you that it doesn’t get better. The hate never goes away. But you will grow into a community of resilience, a community of hope, and a community fueled by moments of your very own queer joy.

[arifeathers]

Give me some of your hcs for Kickin chicken and DogDay for your Oneiros au!

KickinChicken 🏳️‍⚧️

He’s the middle child out of five siblings, one older brother and sister and two younger sisters. Gets along with his sisters of them most of the time but has a strained relationship with his dad and oldest brother.

Also has an adopted cousin named Lyra Lorikeet who is two years older than him. She taught him how to mimic other people’s voices and he often uses it to play pranks on the others with his friendly rival and best friend, Hoppy.

Came out to his family as trans at age 10. His sisters and his mum took it well and accepted Kickin as a brother and son, his father and brother didn’t however and often purposely misgendered and dead named him, among other things.

Got his top surgery at age 16.

Left the henhouse shorty after three weeks of his father and brother’s bs, despite his mum’s and sister’s protests. Went to stay with his childhood friend PickyPiggy and her two mums after making it to Critter’s Valley, before building his beach hut by himself at 15 years old.

Loves the beach and often surfs whenever he can and wants to. If not surfing, then he’s likely seen participating in whatever competition he and Hoppy have made up together.

Has very good accuracy and often uses throwing knives and stars as weapons. He doesn’t have any magic like Catnap, DogDay, CraftyCorn and Hoppy, but makes the most of his throwing skills and athleticism to protect himself and his friends.

Often gives out eggs to his friends living in Critter’s Valley. He finds it pretty shameful and embarrassing, but his friends don’t treat him any different. Picky often invites him over to help her make breakfast and cook for the other critters. (He doesn’t eat the eggs for obvious reasons.)

First met Bubba when the elephant first moved to the Valley. Initially he was pretty neutral towards him, giving an energetic hello, a friendly slap on the back and making him do friendly strength competitions (which he always loses.). But his feelings towards Bubba started to change after the latter stood up to his father and older brother over him being trans, beginning a proper friendship and a bashful crush.

His other best friend after Hoppy is DogDay. They often hang out to together and sing karaoke duets during sleepovers or in general. Both are also constantly pushing the other to confess their feelings to their respective crushes every now and then. He also does the same thing with Hoppy and her crush on Bobby.

DogDay ☀️

The youngest brother out of his two parents and an older brother. He was abandoned by them at 7 years of age for being too “weak, clumsy and useless”, under the premise of having a family picnic with them. Held a grudge against his family ever since, except for his aunt and uncle who took him and Catnap into their care after they made their way to Critter Valley.

Met Catnap shortly after realising his family isn’t coming back for him and the latter waking up on the physical realm and unable to go home to the Dream realm. Awkward first meeting from being startled by each other and a lot of hissing and growling, before realising that neither of them are gonna hurt each other and slowly bonding over being fellow orphans. He let Catnap come with him, after deciding to find his Aunt and Uncle who lives in Critter Valley.

The journey to Critter’s Valley took roughly a year and a half for both Dogday and Catnap and full of perils, excitement and the two of them becoming inseparable.

His Uncle and Aunt was initially unnerved by Catnap’s otherworldly aura and demeanour but look after him at their nephew’s insistence. They both moved out sometime ago and left their house to Dogday and Catnao deciding to move next door into the old treehouse, which was later renovated with the other critters’ help.

Has feelings for his best friend since they were kids, but didn’t want to confess due to belief that Catnap only sees him as a brother. Catnap on the other hand, feels the same but is too shy to confess.

Is immune to Catnap’s Red Smoke thanks to a magic charm cast over him by the purple cat when they were children.

Is able to cast magic in the form of ball shaped lights and blasts. He doesn’t like fighting unless it’s absolutely necessary and to defend himself. Prefers to stun his attackers using his light magic, but will use his firewood axe if needed.

Before winter, Dogday often chops firewood for himself and the other critters, going from house to house to deliver a stack.

Next to Catnap, Kickin Chicken is his best friend and they often sing karaoke together or go to the beach together. He is also able to match Kickin with any teasing remarks.

If he meets his real life canon counterpart in the factory, he’ll be shocked, horrified and just full of denial that his best friend (and crush) would ever do that to him. He would also save him from the mini critters.

If he meets the Prototype, he’ll be scared of the latter’s appearance, until realisation kicks in when he remembers Catnap dreaming about a metal claw and fear turns into protective rage.

[your-queer-dad]

dad! I talked to the princapal and got the right name on some papers and also he said he’d talk to all the staff

later that day a different teacher came up to me and pulled me asided and asked me if she was the one who misgendered me she was really worried and said if she did she’s sorry and she asked if I was ok and stuff she’s alright sometimes I wish it was all the time

anyway back to the shitty teacher she’s just been avoiding me I think I haven’t heard her talk about me or to me the entire while

the principal said that none of this was on purpose but like bro she’s been screaming and misgendering and she’ll be super ableist and visibly homophobic not letting boys sit near eachother and saying how like boys can’t have stuffed animals and we’re to old for itshit whenever we’d bring toys to school but she lets the girls do it! and she’ll go on rants about how boys shouldn’t to this or be this etc and how girls can’t act like this blah blah blah and it’s like hell yeah she meant it the fuck

anyway she’s either lying to him or he’s covering for her either way this is annoying he kept trying to like idk smooth it over and it’s like dude I don’t need to be best friends with her just tell her to stop being a massive pile of shit

also I got my blood drawn and they kept deadnaming me and saying how oh well when you get your name legally changed then we can call you whatever you want. And it’s like sure but you could also call me my name right now motherfucker. My mom made a comment like only a couple more months because I’ll be turning eighteen soon and I called her out cause she does this thing where she pretends to be a good mom and a ally in public but actually she’s been keeping me from transitioning and she sent me terf books and called me a demon spawn and threatens me like all the time etc and then in the car after the appointment in the car I told her she’s making excuses for the nurses and they didn’t have to deadname me and then she got mad like really fucking mad and she went all quiet and started driving crazy like dangerous crazy she does that a lot and it’s a miracle she hasn’t gotten me in a car crash I’m at home now I know she’s not safe not just from the car thing just in general she’s violent and threatens a lot and she does this thing where when she gets mad she’ll grab the back of my neck real hard and drag me around like a damn rubber chicken I started walking behind her to avoid it so it hasn’t happened in a while but idk man everything really pisses me off this is all bullshit and I’m so sick of everyone just excusing it all you feel me also some girl at school keeps coming up behind me and squeezing my neck and it keeps fucking with me cause of what my mom does that girl keeps hitting on me to she won’t leave me alone and this always fucking happens dude she’s like threatening and making jokes about sexually assaulting me and I’m like bro??? The fuck?? My parents don’t care I’ll tell the principal if it gets worse but with the way he is he’ll probably be like oh she didn’t mean it she’s so young she was just joking try to be friends she’s just a little girl blah blah blah I hate how adults justify all this shit I just want someone to call it out or get mad on my behalf for once why won’t anybody ever defend me I’ve been dealing with this for eighteen years the same shit over and over from everyone I’m just a kid to and no one ever stepped in

Hey kiddo, I am so sorry you have all of that shit to deal with, that's awful. I'm really proud of you for telling the principal and that teacher came to check that they were being okay. How your mom treats you is awful and you don't deserve any of that. I am so sorry she has been doing that. You have so much awful things happening to you and it isn't fair, not at all.

- dad x

[my-castles-crumbling]

hi, sorry I dipped for a few weeks without explaining-

So I was going down the road on my skateboard- like just back and focus I was really bored- until like the seventh time I was going down the road, a white Mazda pulled up a few meters ahead. I stopped so that whoever got out could get onto the footpath but a middle aged guy got out and just leaned against his car and stared at me. I got some bad vibes so I turned around and started to go back up the road. I KID YOU NOT THIS GUY STARTED SRIVING UP THD ROAD, FOLLOWING ME. I jumped into a random person’s backyard and waited for five minutes before mister fucking creepo popped a Uey and dipped. Also, sorry if I’m being annoying but I recently moved to a new school (for HSCs) and one of my friends has been purposely misgendering me (I’m FtM) saying that saying that he refuses to call my anything other than my legal name and biological pronouns even though I specifically told him to call be my actual name and pronouns. When I told him that it was kinda transphobic, he straight up told me that it wasn’t. It makes me super uncomfortable and idk what I should do (I think I’m gonna try have a one on one with him today though)

Sorry for dumping my problems,

-bean can man

Hi!!

Okay the Mazda guys sounds really creepy. I’m glad you were smart and got yourself out of that situation. As far as the person in your new school, that’s not ‘kinda’ transphobic. Its actually transphobic. Yeah, I would try talking to him one more time, and if he continues, fuck that. Don’t be friends with someone who disrespects your basic needs and identity. You deserve better.

Sending love <3

[anarcho-puppy]

hiya! welcome to my blog! i mostly just rb or post for myself soooo... don't expect much in terms of consistency lol.

my pronouns are he/him/his, xe/xem/xers, or it/it's; if you misgender me on purpose, you will be blocked >:P

alive but gay

i rb a lost of fandom stuff (basically just whatever media i'm currently hyperfixating on), but these are my favourite media:

DC (mostly batfam)

BBC Sherlock

Hannibal

ATLA (also kinda TLOK, but not as much)

Good Omens

OFMD

Marvel (debatable, not the new stuff, mostly just AOS)

Sense8

WWDITS

Jesus Christ Superstar (shut up, i’m a theatre kid)

The Last Days of Judas Iscariot (in relation to JCS)

The Dragon Prince

Amulet (i’m allowed to be a kid, okay)

Bluey (…very much allowed to be a kid)

HTTYD

ninjago

probs more, i just have a shit memory lmao

pls pls talk to me about my interests! send me asks!

just spent two hours organizing my blog so that i can actually find stuff... so here's a guide:

#puppy barks = og text posts, rants, etc. (basically just everything other than rbs, except threads i’ve added to and wanted to save)

#anarcho puppy (duh) = anarchist and an-com shit

#geo nerd puppy = history-related stuff (one of my SPINs)

#pub trans puppy = public transit-related stuff (another SPIN)

#puppy puppy = feral (sometimes) dog boy me

#poet puppy = started out as poetry but now it’s basically just me writing things

#arty puppy = my art and art rbs

#disabled puppy = disability stuff

#neurodivergent puppy = autism/ADHD shit

#nom nom puppy = baking/cooking/food stuff

#conlang puppy = conlang shit

#little puppy = agere/little me stuff

#faggot shit = uhm uhhhhh… yeah…

#mutual aid/gofundme = self explanatory (please donate or reblog!)

#my polls = polls (obviously /s)

#me = pics of me

#ask = my asks

#hehe = ...yeah i'm not doing so hot (memory loss, trauma, etc.)

#dc = self explanatory (#B, #NW, #RH, #RR, #R, #O, #steph, #cass, #duke, #alfred, #clark, #kon, #jon, #talia, #bernard)

#hozier = my MAN

#atla = avatar the last airbender (and spin-offs)

#sherlock = self explanatory

#tdp = the dragon prince

#hannibal = self explanatory

#go = good omens

#ninjago = self explanatory

#sense8 = self explanatory

#assortment of religious hyperfixations = jesus christ superstar, the last days of judas iscariot, etc.

#i’m gonna be a lawyer bitch = my latest hyperfixation; law, specifically landlord and tenant rights and responsibilities (an actually practical hyperfixation?? crazy… /s)

#covid safety = self explanatory and also really important

#L = iykyk

shut up, i know that there’s a shit tons of tags but it’s not for you; i don’t expect y’all to need a tagging system bc you’re probably not doing a deep dive on my blog, but i need to be able to find things, hence the excessive tagging system :)

DNI LIST:

zionist

racist

sexist

homophobic

transphobic

antisemetic

islamophobic

pedophile/"MAP"

self-described liberal

anti-communist

biden supporter

radqueers

transids/whatever the fuck you’re calling yourselves

etc.

yes, i know that dni lists won’t stop dirty, disgusting people from interacting, but it makes me feel better when i set clear boundaries.

and remember kids, i block LIBERALLY >:P

[arcplaysgames]

Oh Teddie. Buddy. I saw how you sucked face with Kanji, you can't fool me.

Rise, do you..... not..... have a gaydar? Rise, do you not know? What else don't you know, like, do you not know about Chie and Yukiko? Oh, girl. Are you our token straight? I think she might be.

Also, I don't thing i can find the caps, but Rise constantly negs Kanji in combat. She can't seem to have a chill interaction with him. It's funny but also a bit aggravating. Like, can you kids play nice?

What am I saying, of course not. These kids are incapable of it lmao.

This dumb fucker hurled himself in on purpose knowing we'd bail him out, I just know it. If smug was a motorcycle, he's a fucking Knievel.

Naoto's little corner of TV land is a secret laboratory out of some Man From UNCLE classic spy stuff.

It has, without a doubt, the worst exploration music in the game so far. Jesus christ.

ALSO TEDDIE IS... IN A CHEERLEADER UNIFORM. okay. sure. I got cool clothes for everyone. I like Kanji in the Tatsumi Textiles work clothes, and Reverie is dressed as an ouendan member! OSU! goddamn i love those games.

Cuties. Everyone is adorable.

ALSO CHIE CAN DROP BY MID-BATTLE TO SLAM HER SCOOTER INTO AN ENEMY AND KNOCK THEM OUT OF THE MATCH? Amazing.

oh my LORD.

Naoto's Shadow is kind of amazing. One, the VA performance is great, swinging between a very sad child constantly on the verge of tears to a VERY over the top theatric rendition of a mad scientist. The oversized floppy sleeves are a fabulous touch on the physical design. This one is something special compared to all the others.

pops gum loudly

This bit is very good.

Admittedly, it's very interesting to reach Naoto and his shadow after hearing about the whole thing secondhand for, at this point, over a decade. I'm not going to bring anything new to the topic and, frankly, I'm waiting to see how Naoto's social link plays out to get a full read on what's going on here.

Because, obviously, surface level read of the whole this is more than moderately disappointing. The gender essentialism and the repeated idea that you cannot change your gender is more than a little eye-roll-inducing. And it chafes pretty badly against Kanji's entire SLink, which I finished after this dungeon and will recap later but does revolve around eschewing the simplicity of labels.

I'm kind of struggling to pin down why I'm not that mad at this handling. Part of it is obviously that I've set my expectations low for Persona as a whole so that I can have a lot of pleasant surprises when it exceeds those expectations.

But also, the entire Naoto thing is a very sticky situation. Because I think that the Western audience for these games doesn't understand the gravity and density of the sexism in Japanese society. And I'm not an expert in this! But lets say that I do know a thing or two from a friend who does understand it. And it suuuuuucks. Naoto is entirely right to be torn up about this duality.

The people he works with would 100% absolutely no question discard his opinions if they saw him as a girl. Yep. I fully believe that and the weight of that anxiety on Naoto is crushing, clearly moving him to tears. But on the other hand, presenting as a man to avoid that pitfall, the other anxiety of "mimicking those same men" and having to justify their bullfuckery is also incredibly heavy.

Naoto has no clean solution. And if we posit that his reason for being a guy is rooted in that fear, that's... a bad reason to go fulltime Guy Mode. When you opt into your gender, it should be out of love for the thing, in my opinion. There should be something like relief in "yes, I am this gender!"

I don't see that here. But, on the flipside, as soon as this fight is over...

I could reach through the screen and slap you, Rise. This stung me like hearing someone getting misgendered. It fucking SUCKS. Not just everyone swapping to "she" but the feminine diminutives, that's genuinely hard to hear and I personally hate it.

Anyway, back up.

I love this moment from our other team member who thinks a LOT about gender. Kanji being like "listen, just let this shit play out so Naoto has the healing process we all got too, we'll handle the battle part." LIKE!!!!! Fuckin'.... queer solidarity means saying yes, you will beat the shit out of the superpowered facade of a friend's gender demons. THAT'S what it means, baby!

ah shit out of images again brb