#2 trans 2 furious

[victusinveritas]

[lgbtqreads]

Spotlight on: 2024 Lammy Finalists for Best Anthology

Today on the site we’re shining the spotlight on the 2024 finalists for the Lambda Literary Award for Best Anthology! Anthologies are pretty near and dear to my heart, having edited five of them, and I’m thrilled to help showcase these editors, contributors, and volumes before the Lammy Awards take place on June 11th! 2 Trans 2 Furious: An Extremely Serious Journal of Transgender Street Racing…

[unproduciblesmackdown]

and 2 trans 2 furious physical reprinting available for preorder

[nothingunrealistic]

:)

[sailororpheus]

That cover is sending me.

[bubblegumstardust]

The absolute cesspool of hate (predominantly transphobic but also sprinkling in a nice bit of homophobia and mental health stigma) I just waded through (because I decided to report a load of the worse and more violent comments) is honestly sickening and heartbreaking. And the fact that it's predominantly millennials and gen z (presumably seeing as it was tiktok) just makes it even worse. Like fucking hell, do fucking better.

[alwaysthefool]

But She’s Not You (x Zayne)

Technically part 2 to Opposite (linked) but you can read it stand alone too.

Warnings: insecurity

Tags: Angst to comfort, f! Reader (pro trans blog), MC Reader

Synopsis: After you saw him with someone else and misunderstood, Zayne lets you know you’re the only one for him.

Sulking at the waiting room couldn’t get past Yvonne’s sharp eyes. It had been a week since you’d come to the hospital. You didn’t pick up Zayne’s calls after you ‘ended things’, and him, being the gentleman that he was, did not push it. He was probably busy again, and now he had someone else to keep him company. Unfortunately for you, you had a weird and constant chest pain that was getting hard to ignore. You begged the receptionist to get you any other cardiologist than Zayne, which meant you had to wait, because Zayne would never make you wait when it came to your heart.

“What’s wrong?” She took a seat beside you at the metal chairs. “Trouble with the doc?”

You sighed, your head down, grateful she was here. “I saw him with another girl. Laughing, with another girl.”

“Dr. Zayne laughs?” Grayson slumped down on the other side of you. That just made you feel worse. Right, he was usually stoic, but who wouldn’t laugh when someone like her was making a joke?

Yvonne pinched Grayson, as if begging him to read the room.

“Well, he’s doing terribly.” Grayson spoke immediately. “I don’t think he took a break this entire week. Jo almost has to force him to take a break at times.”

Tears filled your eyes immediately and you hated that it wasn’t because you were concerned about him, but rather that he had another girl who’d remind him to take breaks, to eat sweets, to smile every now and then. It was selfish to think like that, but you couldn’t help but wish it was you.

“Dr. Grayson.” Yvonne warned, gesturing to you. “Don’t you have a surgery to get to?”

Grayson took the cue noticing your silent crying, pretending he was paged for something important, running away.

“There’s really nothing going on between them.” Yvonne tried to help you, patting your back. “There’s been new discoveries on Protocore syndrome treatments, and Jo is from the institute that made the discovery.”

You tried to stop the tears. Right, it couldn’t be helped. “It’s just… hard to be with someone like him.” You wiped your face with your sleeve. “Someone who’s always going to be wanted by people who are more than me. I’ll make one mistake, and he can find another girl who’s better than me in every way, and will never make any. I don’t want to spend my life thinking I have to compete.”

“Ms. [Name].” Zayne’s voice spoke from above you, sending your already struggling heart into a frenzy. “Please see me in my room immediately.”

You looked up to see him walk away, into his office, the nurse beside him, apologising to you. “I tried to hide it from him, but he was furious when I didn’t tell him you were here.” She whispered. You told her it was okay, silently following him. He held the door to his office open for you, closing it behind him once the two of you were in.

“You might be mad at me, but did you really have to try and change doctors?”

“I didn’t want to waste your time.”

“Nonsense.” He looked back at you with furious eyes. His hair was a mess, he’d definitely not had enough sleep, and you could see a bit of stubble on his jaw. No matter what happened, Zayne would put effort into his appearance, but you’d never seen him like that before.

You wanted to say something, ask him if he was alright, but you could only take your place on the couch in his office.

“How long have you been experiencing this?” He asked sternly, still standing, looking at your chart.

“A week.”

He shot you an exasperated look. “A week? And you’re only coming here now?”

I didn’t want to face you. You wanted to confess, but you settled with “I thought it’d go away by itself.”

Zayne tried to calm himself down, placing the chart on the table, sitting down on his desk with his head in his hands. You didn’t have control over yourself as your legs walked over to him. Even if he liked someone else, you couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t help but reach for him, your hand lightly resting on his back.

“Zayne?”

“Can I hold you?” His voice was broken, pleading. You let out a soft ‘yes’, and he immediately pulled you into his lip, hugging you tightly.

Was Zayne… crying?

“You’re here.” He whispered, resting his face against your neck, nuzzling into it, tightening his protective hold. Even if you couldn’t hear it well, you felt his wet eyes. He still smelled of coffee and mint. “Please don’t leave me again. I thought I messed up for good. Please give me another chance.”

“I overreacted.” You put your hands in his hair, and he kissed your neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” He pulled away, holding you firmly on his lap with his large hands on your waist. “I didn’t understand how it must’ve looked to you. I’m away all the time, I don’t make time for you, but if it’s not you…” He looked intensely into your eyes. “It’s no one.”

Your heart felt less heavy, the pain easing into relief. You took a deep breath, but it still hurt your chest a little.

“And I’m sorry for what I said.“ He continued.

You teared up again. “Yeah, you should be. You have no idea how I felt.”

“I’ll win you back, if you’re not yet convinced.” He kissed you on your cheek, taking a handkerchief out of his bag to wipe away your tears. “Tell me, what do you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“What I came for. A diagnosis for my heart.” You smiled.

Zayne turned red, clearing his throat, helping you off his lap but not letting go of your hand. “Of course. I need you to come with me to get some tests done.” He used his free hand to look at his notes on the chart.

“And after that, you’re coming home with me so I can make it all up to you.”

—x—

[smolbluegoblin]

what I mainly learned from the backlash about Misfits and Magic season 2 is that some of y'all are so busy hating on JKR and everything related to her that you forgot to uplift trans people and their voices

like yeah you have fun dunking on a TERF who throws tantrums about anything, but have you listened to trans women talking about how misogyny and racism affect them ? have you reblogged that post about trans men being tired of being called "confused little girls" in order to limit their access to healthcare ? have you read this non-binary person vent about how they are furious to be expected to look androgynous when it's not something that they desire ?

Love trans people more than you hate TERFs. Please.

[bookmothic-dyke]

☆ Anarcho-Socialist Witch Dyke ☆

Warning. Blog mentions nsfw topics, mostly kink, on occasion. Mostly about fucking mothman. Block #kink #body horror #trauma if you wish to avoid it.

Hello, I’m Gwyndolyn, call me Gwyn, Gwynnie, or Bookmoth.

A 22 year old Californian trans faekin girl majoring in ecology and evolution, and plans to study writing. A pagan witch and anarcho-socialist, with so much autism and childhood trauma. And spends most of her time bed-rotting, procrastinating on homework, putting on cute outfits, or writing body horror about monster girls.

Also. Transphobes, racists, authoritarians, zionists, pedophiles, zoophiles, capitalists, TERFs, homophobes, and all forms of bigots, you ain’t welcome by any measure. Get lost and trip in a ditch.

- Gender🏳️‍⚧️: Trans girl (genderfae) with a splash of xenogender. Otherkin fae, a wolpertinger specifically. I have been transitioning on E since April 2023. Prog since June 2024.

- Sexuality🏳️‍🌈: Lesbian. Women and nonbinary people. Allosexual and somewhat aro-spec and very polyamorous. I generally prefer queer platonic to romantic relationships.

- Special interests👁️: Extinct creatures & fossils, birds & insects, folklore and magick, vampires and fae, evo and spec evo, fantasy and sci-fi, linguistics and conlangs, true crime, cryptids, and body horror.

- Hobbies📝: Writing, reading, TTRPGs, drawing, gardening, worldbuilding, walking, watching action movies, listening to music, and thrift shopping.

- Fandoms🌟: Dimension 20, Dungeon Meshi, SCP, Gravity Falls, Ever After High, Vampire The Masquerade, Carnival Row

- Favorite Books📖: This Is How You Loose The Time War, Lunar Chronicles, The Lost Girls, What Big Teeth, Honeybloods, and Gideon the Ninth

- Favorite Movies 🎥 : The Princess Bride, Bullet Train, Bit, The Wild Robot, The Fast and The Furious: Tokyo Drift

Writing

My current WIP is called DATE BITE. It's a sapphic story about a transfem vampire, Annie Meadows, trying to survive her first night of undeath . . . and possibly kiss her monster hunting high school bff, Bea Baker.

Though I’m also working on a TTRPG system and setting called MYSTWORK HEART. An eldritch and folk horror steampunk game, about playing half-angel wizards on a train powered by sin. All in a world recovering from an anomalous catastrophe two hundred years before. (It’s set in the past of the DATE BITE world)

Side Blogs:

- @changeling-moth: Worldbuilding ramblings for my main settings and works.

- @sapphic-flesh(NSFW): Horny shitposting, suggestive selfies, and sapphic audios.

1. Top left Is my fae form by me.

2. Top right is me by @reliablegal.

3. Bottom left is my fae form by @atomiccherr1bomb.

4. Bottom right is my fae form by @absoluterobin

[miasmaghoul]

bangs on the table YOU KNOW WHAT IM HERE FOR LET ME SEE THAT FUCKING SWISSDEW TAILSEEEEAAAAXXX!!!!!MIASMAAAA

YOU FUCKIN GOT IT BRO

(ft trans Dew (use of cunt/clit/etc for his anatomy), public play and tail fucking (obvs))

Movie night is one of Dew's favorites.

It's nice to have everyone around, to be able to see and smell every member of his motley little pack. Nice to pick out a DVD or three from their modest collection, ones they've all seen a hundred times, and hunker down for a few hours of peace.

Tonight had started as they all do - movies were chosen, snacks were prepared, seats were claimed. Dew had taken up his usual post at the far end of their most worn couch. It's woefully tattered and lumpy, pale green suede covered in stitched over claw marks and many suspicious stains, but it's infinitely comfortable. Dew's pretty sure this particular spot has a permanent imprint of his nonexistant ass cheeks.

There had been no reason to question it when Swiss flopped down at the opposite end of it. It's where he usually sat, where Dew has spent many frantic evenings riding the other ghoul with his pants around his thighs and a hand over his mouth. He'd offered Swiss a nod whole he chatted with Aether, gotten an exaggerated wink in return, and that had been that.

It's been an hour or so since then, and the ghouls are all caught up in Aeon's choice of 2 Fast 2 Furious. Cumulus and Aether occupy the loveseat to Dew's left, curled up together and feeding each other chocolate covered pretzels. The other couch holds Rain, Mountain and Sunshine, the smaller ghouls curled up into Mountain's sides and buried under a blanket. Aeon and Cirrus had both taken up armchairs brought from their respective rooms - no one was in the mood to lay on the floor tonight. Cirrus keeps her hands busy with her latest crochet project, while Aeon has managed to contort himself into a halfway upside down ball of lanky limbs for the optimal viewing experience.

Dew himself has settled in nicely too, legs splayed wide underneath his own cozy purple blanket. He munches on caramel popcorn, batting Aurora's hand away whenever she tries to sneak a piece from his bowl. She'd joined him and Swiss last minute, and Dew was far from complaining about it - aside from her snack thievery, of course. She's small, quiet, and seems to be hopelessly engrossed in whatever nonsense is happening on screen.

Dew hasn't really been paying attention to that, though. Can't. Not when thick fingers keep playing with his hair just enough to distract.

It's subtle, Swiss's touch. Gentle. Teasing. Dew has his hair tied up, but the few wisps hanging from his sloppy bun are just long enough for the other ghoul to twirl. Every time rough knuckles brush against the back of his neck Dew shoots Swiss a look. No more than a glance, just out of the corner of his eye, but he knows Swiss sees it. Can tell by the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and by the way Swiss gives the ashy blonde lock of hair between his fingers a little tug.

It's unfair, really, that Swiss has this sort of reach. Stupid long arms. Even with Aurora between them, he has no problem toying with Dew. If he tried to reach out to the other ghoul himself, Dew would maybe be able to poke him in the shoulder. Maybe.

Of course, Swiss's arms aren't the only thing that have reach.

The tail retreats, but only for a moment. Just long enough to snake its way up Dew's clothed calf instead, sliding easily over slippery fabric.

Dew jumps a little when something rubs against his foot, sneaks into the leg of his joggers to tickle his bare ankle. It's leathery and warm, flat. The spaded tip of Swiss's tail, he realizes. The jolt earns him a sidelong look from Aurora, and Dew angles a glare over the little ghoulette's head. Swiss pays him no mind, taking a long pull from his beer and giving that same lock of hair another gentle pull.

His reach is really unfair.

Dew sighs through his nose, tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth as Swiss rests that heavy hand on the back of his neck. Trying to keep up appearances. Then a rough thumb rubs at the sensitive spot behind his ear, and Dew can't help the way he leans into it.

Curse Swiss for knowing all his weaknesses.

Not that Dew couldn't do the same, mind you. Hell, if Aurora weren't between them he'd already be digging mean fingers into Swiss's soft stomach to pull hissing laughter from him. Crawling into his lap to suck on that spot by his Adam's apple that makes his leg shake like a dog's.

Swiss, though, is never quite so obvious about these things. He has much more patience than Dew when it comes to teasing. He's slow and methodical, deliberate in his movements. The way he squeezes the back of Dew's neck, the way his tail oh-so-slowly worms its way up his thigh, the way Swiss's eyes never leave the screen - it's the perfect storm for the little ghoul.

He really should have been more suspicious of that wink.

Dew has never been good at holding a poker face. His cheeks go too pink, his brows gather too tightly, his mouth turns down at the corners - he wears his distress plain as day, and he knows that's why Swiss does things like this. Knows that's why he likes getting him worked up. Likes getting him all hot and slippery in public so he can wrangle the little ghoul back to his room and make fun of him while he bounces on his cock.

The end of Swiss's tail sneaks over his crotch, presses down, and Dew hides his sigh in a sip of his soda. He crunches on a piece of ice while Swiss pats at him, just above the spot where Dew can feel his clit starting to plump up.

It would be easy enough to shrug him off. He'd just have to shift, to cross his legs and lean further into the arm of the couch. Swiss would get the message. He should, he knows he should. Should stop this before it really starts and Swiss starts wringing reluctant pleasure from him with slow, maddening touches.

Swiss taps the back of his neck twice, his cunt throbs, and Dew does not move.

Well, he's never been known for his good decisions.

Dew keeps his eyes resolutely forward, tries to focus on the action on screen. Tries not to think about how warm Swiss's hand is, even against his own heated skin. Tries not to pay attention to how effortlessly Swiss's tail slides over his pants, on how it wriggles up under the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Dew holds his breath when it slips higher, and he feels his face flush darker.

Aurora steals popcorn from his bowl, and this time Dew does not try to stop her.

The sensation of that leathery spade flicking over his nipple is...unique. Not as rough as Swiss's fingers, not as smooth as his tongue, but nice all the same. Very nice, actually. He's always sensitive there, but the level of exposure makes it so much worse.

Swiss repeats on the other side of his chest, Dew's jaw clenches, and he can practically hear Swiss's smirk.

He tries to keep his breathing even, he swears he does, but the more Swiss rubs at his tender buds the harder it gets. The harder he gets. Dew chews his lip in an attempt to hold in the whimper he can feel bubbling up in his throat. He knows it'll be a dead giveaway, and as much as this sort of play gets his fat little clit all stiff he would really rather not be caught. With effort he manages to swallow down the sound, but Dew knows that the more Swiss toys with him the more impossible that task will become.

Dew also knows that he shouldn't lean heavier against Swiss's large hand. Shouldn't sigh softly in spite of himself when that too-skilled appendage glides down his stomach. He certainly shouldn't let his legs fall just a little further apart when Swiss slips the tip under his waistband. Wiggles it into his boxers.

It swipes over the swollen, stubby length hidden there, and Dew can't help his groan. He's quick to mask it behind a fake yawn, to cover his mouth with a caramel-sticky hand while his chest heats, but the damage is done. A whits-hot twist of shame slithers through his veins, lights his nerves up like a Christmas tree, and Dew really wishes he could explain why it makes him throb.

Swiss pays his reactions no mind, ever cool and casual. He sips his beer. Watches the movie. Kisses Aurora's hair when she snuggles into his shoulder. Laughs at something Sunshine says that Dew does not process. He can't focus on anything but the lazy way Swiss's tail plays with him.

He knows he's wet. Knows the light gray cotton of his boxers must have a damp spot soaked into it. He can tell by the way Swiss's curious appendage slips through his folds. If it weren't for the blanket he'd be able to hear it too, and the thought alone is enough to have Dew shivering. He cracks the knuckles of one hand, takes a deep breath, and hopes against hope that he isn't giving himself away.

That clever spade pushes further, nudges at his slick hole, and Dew has to shut his eyes to keep them from rolling back. The only reason he's keeping his head upright at this point is because Swiss is holding it. He has no idea how long the other ghoul has been tormenting him, but every inch of him tingles. Aches.

"You okay over there, sugar?"

Dew's own tail wraps itself around his shin, and he's hit with a sudden flash of the one night a couple weeks ago where Swiss had walked in on him fucking himself stupid with it.

"Would you look at that," he'd said, leaning against the doorframe while Dew wheezed and panted and tried to sling a blanket over his hips. "You really will stick anything in there, huh?"

As though he can read Dew's mind, Swiss chooses that moment to finally inch his way inside. Slowly, in little stabs that make Dew bite his tongue. The spade folds when it slips in, and the length of Swiss's tail follows it with absolutely no urgency. Stretching him just enough to feel.

Dew can't help but recall what it felt like that night, when Swiss had pushed into his needy body alongside his own wriggling tail, and the little ghoul shudders so hard his teeth chatter.

Cumulus's voice makes him yip in surprise, makes him clench, and Swiss does not help matters with the way his tail slips further in.

"Y-yeah," Dew gasps, face hot. He clears his throat and rucks his blanket up to his shoulders. "Just, uh - just a little chilly."

Sure, the fire ghoul is chilly. That tracks. Dew thinks he can't be blamed for the bullshit excuse, really. Not with the way Swiss works him open, the way his tail swirls and prods at his most tender, secret places. He has the little ghoul snapped from the inside out, and Dew wishes he could hate him for it.

Cumulus doesn't seem to notice his distress, though. Her gaze never leaves the television, her head still pillowed on Aether's thigh. The only eyes Dew can feel on him certainly belong to Swiss, and he chances a heavy lidded sideways glance towards the other ghoul.

Swiss isn't staring so much as he's consuming Dew with those sparkling golden eyes. They burn hotter than the tightness building in his gut, the pressure in his pelvis. He shouldn't be this worked up, not for how little work Swiss has done. It's terrible, really, how affected he is by the other ghoul's efforts. Terrible how Swiss can be so unbothered while Dew feels like he's under a microscope.

Fuck, he's so into it.

He thinks he could probably cum like this. It's all too slow, too distant, but his clit keeps jumping and they both know what that means. He could, but he'd rather do it in a place where he could shove his tongue down Swiss's throat and jerk himself raw instead.

Dew licks his lips, clamps down around that invading tail, and Swiss rewards him with a knowing wink.

Then his hand and tail disappear with no warning, and Dew sags bodily into the couch.

"Sure smells like he is," Aeon chirps, and Dew blanches. "Get him outta here before he gets the couch wet."

"Think I'm gonna hit the sack," Swiss lilts, dutifully hiding his shit eating grin while he stands and stretches.

Aurora pouts at him for dislodging her, Dew can hear the displeased sound she makes, but his eyes are stuck on the sliver Swiss's belly that his stretch reveals. Distantly, he's aware of the credits rolling, of the others shifting. He totally misses the way Swiss smiles down at him, too focused on catching his breath and blinking away the encroaching haze.

"You coming, Sparky?"

Everyone laughs, and Dew burns.

"Can do," Swiss trills, dragging the little ghoul off the couch and towards the hall and offering Aeon a mock salute. "C'mon, spitfire," he coos in Dew's ear, holding him close when his legs threaten to buckle, "let's get you taken care of."

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill you," Dew spits once he finds his voice, thready and tight as it is with shame and arousal.

"Sure you are," Swiss chuckles. He curls his sticky tail around Dew's skinny bicep, and Dew catches the overwhelming salt-and-spice scent of his own slick. It makes his stomach flip as much as it makes his cunt clench.

"Shut up and fuck me before I strangle you."

Swiss barks out a laugh, and Dew yelps when the other ghoul hoists his slight body over a broad shoulder. He kicks his little feet in protest, and Swiss gives his ass a firm slap for his efforts. His tail sways when he walks, and Dew can't keep his eyes off of it.

"Don't give me ideas, shorty," Swiss teases, "I've already seen exactly what you like when these things are involved."

Swiss's tail caresses his face, glides over his parted lips, and Dew groans at the taste of himself.

This is going to be a very long night.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

excerpts from the Lambda Literary Award winning 2 Trans 2 Furious: an extremely serious journal of Transgender Street Racing Studies

[xstarkillerx]

Brian and Guilt

Brian O'conner headcanon

Hop hop 🐇

It's obvious in those early movies that Brian is left with a shit ton of guilt. He's never forgotten killing Johnny Tran, watching Jesse get shot down, tearing Dom's family apart, and we know because of 2 fast 2 furious, and f&f 4 that he often has a subconsious desire to attone for his actions. Whether it's letting dom go because of his guilt about Roman, recruiting Roman because of his guilt about Dom, so on and so forth. Something I would imagine he also feels he needs to attone for is Mia. She was 19 in that first movie, you know, 19 and pre-med on scholarship because Dom wanted her to go to medical school and what did he do while he was undercover? Brian fucked her, he used her, manipulated her, made her trust him, and it doesn't matter what excuse he uses, whether it was in the name of the law, or he had genuine feelings for her, he destroyed her life before she could even legally drink in the united states of America, and it haunts him to no fucking end.

I headcanon that after he leaves California and makes way for Miami, he often uses sex to distract himself, turn his brain off, get that guilty pit in his stomach to calm down for a second. Not only does it affect his sexual appetite but his tendencies too. He becomes a little more averse to recieving his own pleasure, never quite to the degree of a touch-me-not, but definitely in that ballpark because after the cloud of aroual wears off, that guilty feeling comes back. He likes to make it last long, likes wearing girls out, likes putting his body to work making them feel good, as his own subconsious form of atonement.

He could spend hours with his tongue burried in a cunt, loves to have you sitting on his face making him feel good and used. He's got hungry hands too, grabbing the meat of your thighs, your tits, your waist, digging his nails into your ass when you grab his hair tight. Loves when you start shaking because it means it's time to switch positions, put you on your back and shove his fingers in your cunt, massaging those sensitive walls with his fingers, strong and calloused from mechanic work. And god, you know he loves hearing you too, needs you to be vocal, needs the stimulation of your pretty voice in his ear telling him how good he's making you feel. He likes making girls cum until they're all used up, sweating and twitching, barely able to move. He likes watching them in this state while his cock is still hard, barely touched. He also has a soft spot for the way their heavy arms reach out in their post-orgasm haze to wrap around his dick because they think they need to make him feel good too, only for him to cuddle up to them, kiss their sweet, damp skin and tell them he's good, "you don't have to," "maybe in the morning." He doesn't always intend to make good on that either, more often than not, he tip toes out of their apartments and out of their lives before they wake up and he can do any damage. He hits the road again, making way for the east coast.

🐇 hop hop

[zhessemer]

i first read sea of monsters when i was a kid and i knew nothing about greek mythology. when they arrived at cerci’s island and i realized men weren’t allowed there and then cerci began to transform percy, my heart skipped a beat and i was like PERCY’S A GIRL NOW!!?!?!!!! 😮✨🥹🩷 then he turned into a guinea pig…

that was one of my first egg crack moments. still annoyed that the rest of pjo after som isn’t about percy figuring out her gender and negotiating her feelings for annabeth while fighting against the titans. 2 trans 2 furious indeed, tuck woodstock. 2 trans 2 furious indeed.

[abluescarfonwaston]

I am a simple (trans)man. I see the reboot of Ranma 1/2 and ask- but what if he HAD to stay a girl to stay safe. Because some big bad was actively on the hunt to kill Boy!Ranma or something.

What if Ranma hadn't been caught in the bath by Akane and had gone to school with her, (refusing to wear the school uniform like normal). Watching Akane defeat the army of boy's at the gate only to swoop in and kick Kuno's ass resulting in him falling for 'the pigtailed girl' right away.

What if he'd gotten there and been so excited to have all these guy friends again (its so hard on the road) only to realize they're just trying to date him, not talk to him guy to guy like he'd hoped. (He feels no remorse ordering that fifth Ultra Brownie delight special with their wallet)

Complaining to Akane in the dojo after school as Ranma's personality just starts to peak through and Akane agreeing 'That's why men are Awful'. Ranma withdrawing that little bit back in as he realizes that - no. Akane doesn't get what he's saying- and she would hate him if she really knew him.

Ranma bellowing out for them all to back off because Akane is MY FIANCE. The awe and silence and then 'but that's not even legal' murmurs. HUH?! SAYS WHO??? 'the government...' 'Oh... Huh.'

The divide between how big and powerful Ranma acts verses the moments when he notices how short his arms are. How small he is. Shrinks into an ill fitting body in a way Akane wishes she could stop from her friend.

The horror and Relief that comes with Ryoga's appearance. An old rival who Knows. Knows and is angry and furious but treats him just like he expects to be treated. And maybe his legs Are too short and he still misjudges the distance but there is something so freeing to knowing he is being seen as he really is.

Ranma slipping out of the house early, before sunrise, so he can escape. Pour hot water over his head and just be Himself for a few minutes that day. Even if it's risky. Even if it gets him killed. Because he was willing to die to become strong, but he didn't think that meant losing his manhood first.

Akane spotting a boy training in the park, pausing because for a moment she thought- but it was a trick of the light. They just share a braid, that isn't Ranma. Her friend and 'fiance' Ranma.

Being drawn in my something. By that pigtailed braid or the force of their blows and the smoothness of his movements.

Or maybe by how he keeps kicking the target with his calf instead of his foot. That's a big one.

And she hates men. Absolutely despises the whole lot. But she offers him a correction and he looks at her in such shock.

"Y-yeah. I know. I guess I'm just not used to being tall."

Her offering a suggestion. Him doing it right this time as she nods. Offering to spar.

Didn't you say you'd hate to lose to a man? "Nah I already have a fiance." "What does that have to do with anything?" "Isn't there a thing at your school that if someone beats you they get to take you on a date?" "Oh my god other schools know about that?" "Furinkan is pretty loud." "Yeah it is..."

"Do you like her?" "Who?" "Your fiance." "Oh... I guess. She's kinda cute. But she hates me." "What'd you do?" "Why do you assume I did anything huh?" "Cause youre a boy." "... What about yours then?"

"Mine?"

"You have a fiance don't you?"

"I guess. But she's a girl."

"How'd that happen?"

"My dad's an idiot."

"Yeah. Mine too."

[makoto-shizumu]

A Long Rant About the 2024 Olympics Boxing Gender Row

Disclaimer: DO NOT REPOST. This post contains personal opinions and information gathered over the past week concerning female boxers and Olympic finalists 🇩🇿 Imane Khelif (left) and 🇹🇼 Lin Yu-Ting (right), as well as their opponents. You are welcome to share your thoughts, but if you come to me with hate or an attempt to convince me they are men through claims such as that of XY chromosomes (which have never been proven, mind you), especially if you or your source(s) cite the corrupt, biased and discredited International Boxing Association (IBA), will be blocked and have your comment(s) deleted. If proper fact-checking is too much work for you, I suggest you save your energy and block me instead. On the other hand, if there are relevant updates or information that I may have missed, do let me know in the comments, and I will edit this post accordingly. Lastly, I do not condone the harassment of any of the individuals involved - that time is better spent on more valuable causes such as 🇵🇸 helping Palestinians, 🏳️‍⚧️ supporting trans people, and calling for the rearrest of convicted child rapist Steven van de Velde. Thank you for reading.

Angela Carini is not a hero.

We all know Carini abandoned her match not even a minute in and complained about being “punched too hard” by Khelif - who made the women’s lightweight quarterfinals in Tokyo. The cop competed in the welterweight division and lost her opening bout 2-3 to 🇹🇼 Chen Nien-Chin (who will join Khelif on the Olympic podium, fuck yeah).

Carini’s involvement has gradually garnered less attention since her apology, but she will have a long way to go before she can be forgiven, especially by Khelif. An Italian posted and translated her deleted tweet before the infamous 46-second bout clearly alluding to Khelif as a man, and Algérié Football Média recently released a recording of Khelif, where she explains how Carini’s club and the Italian media took advantage of her.

What’s worse, the IBA decided to offer Carini a hundred grand as a “consolation prize.” At least this time the Italian federation values their dignity more and refused the money.

Luca Hámori is not a hero.

Remember the Instagram story reshares that she had to take down? Besides the bull-headed giant, Hámori reshared another which called Khelif a korcsot - a dehumanizing Hungarian slur which Google interprets as “monster” or “freak,” but more accurately translates to “mongrel.”

Hámori entered the ring expecting to walk out as a “savior,” but it was Khelif who turned out to be the bigger person that day. Upon her victory, Khelif called out the IBA for their abuse towards her, but she fights on because of her faith in justice.

Svetlana Staneva is NOT A FUCKING HERO. Neither is her equally ill-informed coach, Borislav Georgiev.

This case makes me especially furious not just because I’m also a Taiwanese woman like Lin Yu-Ting, but also the abysmal immaturity of 34-year-old Staneva, THE SECOND OLDEST BOXER IN THE FEATHERWEIGHT DIVISION. Even Hámori has shown more decency in the ring, and she’s eleven years younger!

If you, like me, have watched their full match, you should acknowledge that Yu-Ting was undoubtedly the better boxer that day - same case in her RO16 bout against Sitora Turdibekova.

On the other hand, you’ll see that Staneva doesn’t need “protecting,” considering she literally held Yu-Ting by the head and SLUNG HER ACROSS THE RING (around 3:25-3:30). I’m sorry, Staneva, did you ever realize the audience was there to watch boxing and not wrestling?! And she calls herself a “proud XX woman.” Our commentators did not witness that gesture, but if they did I trust they would’ve been fuming as much as I have the past few days.

If she truly were a proud woman, she would not play dirty the entire time, then give up five seconds before the final bell. Look me straight in the eyes and tell me that you would want to be represented by such behavior. I feel sorry for the Bulgarians and her other supporters who had to witness such a shameful performance.

Oh, one more thing… Guess who the IBA gave a bronze medal in the 2023 World Championships after disqualifying Yu-Ting?

That’s right, it was Staneva. No wonder her coach was willing to give up all professionalism and pander to the IBA’s lies. And look what that got them - now they’re not allowed anywhere near the Olympic podium! This could be unlikely, but let’s hope they are punished by the IOC and/or any relevant departments back in Bulgaria.

(I’m not going on Twitter for a better resolution of this photo. This one fries my eyes enough.)

Esra Yıldız Kahraman is not a hero.

I am at a loss of words.

What the actual fuck, Kahraman. We thought you were better than this.

I will only say this once. DO NOT confuse bad sportsmanship, disinformation, transphobia, (inter)sexism, and racism with “defending women’s sports.”

Reducing womanhood to chromosomes, genitalia, physical appearance, and/or some other bullshit is the most despicable and disgusting thing to come out of such hatred, and I will die on this hill. And gender tests? They were abolished due to their ineffectiveness at identifying maleness after Atlanta 1996, but the IBA won’t admit it. And considering their latest mess of a press conference, they would rather stay relevant with empty claims and unnecessary threats. Stop giving them the time of day! Listen to the podcast Tested instead for more info on this matter.

Imane Khelif and Lin Yu-Ting did not make the podium in Tokyo, but they will both leave Paris with their heads high up and medals hanging down their necks - all the while the likes of “fEmInIsTs” and bigots such as J.K. Rowling, Elon Musk, Donald Trump, and Logan Paul can only COPE AND SEETHE. Their victory is a victory for women, a victory for Algeria, a victory for Taiwan, and a victory for the boxing world that I never thought I’d care so much about.

I’m counting on Khelif and Yu-Ting to win gold and dunk on all the haters all over again. But respect to every other medalist in the welterweight tournament for being great sports - 🇨🇳 Yang Liu, 🇹🇭 Janjaem Suwannapheng, and our dearest Nien-Chin. You all deserve the podium! 💖💖💖

[lubchansky]

Mattie Lubchansky is a cartoonist and illustrator living in beautiful Queens, NY. They are the former Associate Editor of Ignatz and Eisner award-winning magazine and website The Nib. Her work has appeared in The Nib, VICE’s science fiction vertical Motherboard, Eater, Mad Magazine, Gothamist, The Toast, The Hairpin, Brooklyn Magazine, New York Magazine, Food and Wine, Current Affairs, and their long-running webcomic Please Listen to Me.

Mattie is the author of Simplicity (Pantheon, 2025), Boys Weekend (Pantheon, 2023), The Antifa Super-Soldier Cookbook (Silver Sprocket, 2021), the co-author of Dad Magazine (Quirk, 2016), author of Skeleton Party (self-published, 2016), , co-editor and contributor to The Nib’s anthology Be Gay Do Comics (IDW, 2020) , contributor to the Lambda Literary Award-winning anthology 2 Trans 2 Furious: An Extremely Serious Journal of Transgender Street Racing Studies (Girl Dad Press, 2023), and co-editor and contributor to the Eisner-nominated anthology Flash Forward: An Illustrated Guide to Possible (and Not So Possible) Tomorrows (Abrams, 2021). They were the Herblock Prize finalist in 2020.

mattie@mattielubchansky.com