#But trans woman is off the table

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

I ain't gonna lie, I do noooot think radblr is gonna come out of this Imane Khelif thing unscathed. Like, y'all, I'm sorry, but there is not enough evidence for some of y'all to confidently call this person male and say some of the stuff you've been saying. At the very least you have to acknowledge that Khelif did not compete against women with malicious intent.

[reddogcollar]

[helianthus-hellion]

modern-day house m.d. episode where the patient is transmasc and on T, and after house reads his file he goes in and is reading off prescriptions like "estradiol cream, finasteride, prescription face wash, prescription deodorant... god, it's like you don't even want to be a man!" and the patient says "just because i wanna be a man doesn't mean i have to suffer all the shitty side effects" and house goes "it's all shitty side effects! being a man sucks!" before tossing the file down on the little tray table thing and leaving.

chase and cameron exchange A Look in the room and then while they're walking down the hall cameron's like "we should talk to him about it - maybe he'd be... happier? if he transitioned?" and chase rolls his eyes and is like "just because he thinks being a man sucks doesn't mean he's trans, every guy hates being a man at least some of the time" and then cameron gives him Another, Slightly Alarmed Look

we cut to house and wilson and wilson's looking at him like he's insane, going "so you... told the patient that being a man sucks?" and house laughs and says "sure did! i wanna know which will take longer - cameron coming to me concerned about my gender, or chase realizing he should be concerned about his gender. her gender? eh, probably easier to just stick with 'his' for now." wilson accuses him of being a sociopath and house looks fake-wounded and says "you know, if i am a sociopath, you're being ableist by attributing my cruel actions to my sociopathy, and if i'm not a sociopath then it's even worse that you're accusing me of being one just because i'm mean."

cuddy approaches house later and tells him that she heard about what he told the patient, and she is required both to make him take sensitivity training and also to provide him resources on transitioning if he wants to pursue that. house asks if him being a woman would make cuddy bisexual, and she raises and eyebrow and says "that ship sailed long ago" and doesn't elaborate on whether she means she isn't into house anymore so it doesn't matter or that she already is bi. house starts cyberstalking her to try to figure out if she slept with any of the women she's friends with on facebook. the team comes in to tell him about a new symptom and he shows them a photo of cuddy from college with a hot girl at a halloween party and is like "do you think they ever fucked? i think they fucked. even if they didn't, i'm gonna imagine they did." foreman tries to get them back on track but chase leans in to get a better look at the photo and it turns out to be wilson in a costume. there's an awkward beat of silence before cameron goes "SO, back to the patient!" and house makes a sort of dismissive "huh? oh, yeah, go test him for [whatever]" while staring intently at the photo.

he confronts wilson about the photo, wilson admits it's him, house starts by going "oh, yeah, but i'm the one having a gender crisis" but accidentally says "sexuality crisis" instead and wilson is like "house do you... do you think i'm hot in that photo?" and then we cut to chase asking cameron if she thinks he could pull off an outfit like that and they discuss it a little while doing a blood draw or LP or whatever. the patient gives them both A Look and is like "you know, you can get wigs and breast forms pretty cheap these days..." and chase is like "hm? oh, yeah i guess one of those costume supply sites would probably have stuff like that huh," and the patient raises his eyebrows at cameron who just shakes her head a tiny bit.

house accuses cuddy of sleeping with his best friend in the clinic lobby and she drags him into her office to ask what the hell he's talking about and he shows her the photo. she's like "yeah, we were at a halloween party together in college, so what?" and house says that wilson makes a really hot chick and asks if that's what awakened cuddy's "bi side," and cuddy just rolls her eyes and tells him to stop projecting his sexuality crisis onto her just because he thinks his best friend is hot. house asks if wilson was at least a good lay and cuddy says "find out for yourself!" before kicking him out of her office again.

house goes back to his office and cameron is pacing outside the door, and she looks nervous when he walks up to her. she follows him into his office and she has clearly prepared A Speech about how if he doesn't like being a man he doesn't have to be, and he doesn't even have to be a woman either, there's options, and it's never too late to transition no matter what people say, and he cuts her off like "yes yes you're very supportive, you clearly aced sensitivity training" and then he has the episode's Epiphany and it turns out that the patient transitioned too early and there was some (largely made-up and not actually backed by irl medical science) complication from starting his transition as a teenager, and the patient is like "oh so you're saying i did this to myself?" and house says "well legally at least, either your parents or the governor of new jersey did it to you - depends on who approved the hormones."

wilson comes up to him at the end and is like "you know, it's okay if you think i'm hot. and it's also okay if you're a woman. if you... ever need any tips on passing as one, i'm happy to help."

the ending is left ambiguous as to house's actual gender identity and, much like the autism episode, it kinda feels like the writers' room was full of heavy debate about whether house should be trans or not. we also never actually circle back to the fact that chase is definitely trans, it never comes up again, and this move pisses off both trans people and allies who wanted it to become A Story Arc and anti-trans people who are mad it even came up in a single episode, absolutely nobody is happy about how they handled that subplot.

[transgender-gamer-girl]

Dirty confession: I, a trans woman, have been sleeping with my mother since Christmas. We got a bit too drunk and ended up fucking, and didn't find out until we woke up and my cock was soft inside her and she had dried cum on her face. It was... very awkward when we both woke up, I woke up first and just pretended I was asleep, probably thinking I was having a wet dream. Only issue is that made me hard. So my mother woke up to herself still wrapped around my now-hard cock.

She kinda just shook me awake and I began to freak the fuck out, realising that I wasn't asleep and it was actually happening. She tried to get up, but in raising herself off me, she slipped back on it, which made us both moan. I think there was a shared "Are we doing this? Do we give a fuck?" moment after that as we both stared at each other, before she muttered "fuck it" and started riding. I had DEFINETLY came inside the night before, but she didn't let me now, and I came on my stomach moaning "mommy". She left after that, and I immediately felt awful and called my girlfriend crying about it. She was at her parents cross-country for christmas, and I'd essentially cheated on her with my own mother. She is into incest though and she assured me that if anything she was fucking ecstatic for me...

Anyway, since then I have fucked my mother fucked a LOT. I was mostly the same gist, after my little siblings have gone to bed, she'd knock on the guest room door, looking real sheepish at the start but more and more bold, and ask me if I'm busy. It started as mostly missionary, but then she wanted to ride me again, and this time she was slamming her hips down and gripping me by the throat, calling me her "Slut daughter". I came like, three times that time, it was intense.

My siblings go to a weird alternative school that starts suuper early in the year, which was great because ma would start signalling me during the day. In the week before I went back to school, which was like only an hours drive away ngl so not that far to go, we were fucking up to five times a day. I only was inside her maybe twice a day tho because damn I'm not that vigorous, but she started getting me to spend breakfast and lunch under the table eating her out...

Anyway, im back at college now and me and my ma have been sending each other depraved shit. She's one of those people who's baseline kink level is "I'm into it", and apparently incest has been a big one since she was my age. She does know that my partner knows, and she called her to discuss the whole thing. The call did develop though, into ma on face time on my laptop pumping her cunt with one of her dildo's while she and my partner boss me around. Since then a group chat was indeed made, and my partner's been roleplaying as my big sister WAY more than usual. I've had so kuch sistercunt 😵‍💫...

To keep a long ask short; in a weeks time, once my siblings are with their respective fathers for the week, ma is gonna make the drive so she and my partner can spend days using me like a dildo.

- 🍄🍁

This is so hot omg gurl 🤤

[unlimitedbutchworks]

it’s cool how there’s just no way to win when you’re a trans woman like you’re just an eternal inconvenience for having the audacity to exist and there’s nothing you can do about it because the majority of the population are genuinely subhuman when it comes to how they see trans women and it’s everywhere in everything. like you can’t say you wish you could see more transfems in the media you like because then you get a horde of ppl saying that you’re lying and should be grateful for the scraps that fall off their table, so then you investigate and prove that yeah, there really aren’t hardly any transfems there. and then you have a horde of people talking about how insane you are for thinking about this and how by asking to see transfems occasionally you are actually becoming an evil woke mob tearing down creatives and demanding impossible things

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A digital drawing of the TMAGP Fluff episode "Plenty More Fish", featuring Sam, Alice, and Colin in a pub. Sam is a South Asian man with brown skin and curly black hair and a mustache, Alice is a lanky white trans woman with shaggy brown hair and glasses, and Colin is a skinny white man with a long light brown ponytail and scruffy facial hair and glasses as well. Alice and Colin are dressed more casual in t-shirts, hoodies and sneakers, while Sam is wearing a sweater, trousers, and loafers. They are all sitting at a table drinking foaming pints of beer. Alice and Colin are laughing loudly while Sam rests his head on his hand, staring off into space in mild horror. Alice is patting Sam's back while Colin leans back, kicking one leg out while lifting his pint. The background is colored in red, brown, and orange. end ID]

~~~~

"There's plenty more fish in the sea..."

"And they're all covered in their own shite."

colin.... happy?? colin silly?? colin laugh?? hello?? is anyone out there

[willgrahamscock]

you'll forever be a cringey immature straight girl no matter if you call yourself a he or a xim or a identify as a table leg, no matter how many bone-eroding cross-sex hormones you take or whether you amputate or boobs or not. biologicallly you will always be a female heterosexual since that's what you were born as. neuroscience proves that heteros aka opposite-sex attracted people have distinct brain phenotypes from gay people, regardless of if they identify as trans or not. heterosexual aka male-attracted 'transmen' have the same brain chemistry as any normie het woman, proving both that sexuality is only determined by sex and that transness isn't innate the way homosexuality is. you can larp as whatever, call neuroscience and basic knowledge on sexuality 'stinky doo doo opinions' like a petulant child who just realized santa isn't real. the only thing you're doing is embarrassing yourselves in front of anyone with the slightest cerebral functionality because you're mad we're calling out your gay-fetishizing homophobic anti-scientific bs for what it is unlike the tras who pretend to see you as 'gay' 'men' because they feel sorry for your mentally ill ass and your internalized misogyny. sure you het women will never be in an equal relationship with a male because straight men see you as throwaway sex toys and free domestic servants but this isn't an excuse for you to fetishize gay men and pretend to be them, certainly not an excuse to expect them to go along with the charade and put up with you het weirdos preying on them. het males aren't dumb when it comes to manipulating women for easy p*ssy which is why they're already on grindr with your het ass, pretending to be QWeEr and non-binary to get that mentally ill gullible cooch. no actual gay male will look at you and have any other emotion aside from anger and pitiful laughter. even if you 'pass' completely, they'll be disgusted after learning you have female genitalia and lose any attraction they may have had because het sex is abnormal and undesirable to gay people, not falling for and not wanting to fuck the opposite sex is the literal essence of our sexuality which you are diametrically opposed to. you'll just rub your nub away to yaoi like any other fujo who is either an ugly woman or understandably disillusioned with men but the only outcome is that you'll be a bitter p0rn sick lonely coomer just like those crusty basement-dwelling straight men who can't get laid. the worst part is that nearly any het woman like you can get laid, that's no achievement, het men will even pretend to be bi or gay to use you as a fleshlight but no gay male will ever want your musty homophobic vag, they want none at all and deep down you know it. that you'll never be loved and wanted by a gay man, that you'll never be seen as gay or male by anyone. you'll never know the ultimate compatibility and sublime equality that only exists in same-sex love. and now that you've ruined your straight woman privilege, only the most abusive and weird straight men will go after you, whose only purpose is to take advantage of you. what a sad existence, foaming at the mouth at gay people for standing up for ourselves when you fake progressive breeders try to brainwash your fellow homophobes into your heteronormative bioessentialist homophobia, insisting gay people could be bisexually attracted as long as you wear 'boy clothes' and cut your hair off. congrats on alienating the very people you pretend to be, most of us were 'trans allies' just a few years ago before you went full crackhead and started pretending sexuality is based on a made-up gender not biological sex. enjoy withering away in your early menopause knowing no gay person will ever love or desire you, knowing you'll never be us and should be grateful since you couldn’t stand a day of real oppression. choke on as much d*ck as you'd like, it only proves what a wanton female hetero you are and that straight males would stick their d*ck in anyone female

I ain't reading all that

[st-dionysus]

(The Poem is named) Emetophobia CW

It’s 2024 and I’m in a 20 year old drag bar, watching the very first trans-masculine performer to compete on their stage, he gets second place even though he deserved first.

I show up to the men’s bathhouse on trans night to get free entry and get turned away at the door, and told it’s for transgirls only, bitch you could have put it on the flyer that transmen need not apply.

I’m doing a line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I get banned from the camsite for listing myself as transgender when I don’t have a dick, I complain online and get told that the trans-masculine body is to grotesque to be fetishized and I should be grateful.

I wear a packer and hitch up a skirt, walk the street, get $20, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Cissie puts a TW #body-mutilation tag under my thirst trap. Tranny puts a TW #dysphoria tag under my thirst trap.

T-girl with a callout post pedojackets me, Enby with TME in bio pedojackets me, T-boy with a self-deprecating joke about men in his bio pedojackets me.

I do another line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic wearing a mask – not cause I’m compromised (I am), just to hide my beard – avoiding making everyone uncomfortable.

I am getting re-diagnosed with BPD, which just means I have bitch disorder and no one trusts me.

I take my pills and throw them up. I drink my liquor before the beer and throw them up.

I am just 14 when the picture and videos go up. Remind me that I have it easy, they were only pictures and videos.

I am just 17 when the recording of my proof stops before it happens, my phone memory is full, I’m called a liar and now I can’t see buttered crackers, thanksgiving, or sriracha sauce without wanting to kill myself.

No one gets me therapy, but they still want to convert me, she puts her hands down my pants, at least I’m 19, to remind me I’m a woman – tell me how they love trans men again.

I do a third line of ketamine off the table, realize it doesn’t effect me, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I call myself a dog, I start biting my lovers and I have to hold back from ripping out a chunk of flesh, I don’t think I’d throw it up.

I am reading the statistics, 40% of BPD patients try and kill themselves. 1 in 2 transgender men try and kill themselves. I’m one of them. I’m 12 and I swallowed all the pills. I’m 14 and the gun is empty. I’m 17 and I put the box-opener against my throat. Therapist calls me a liar, there is no scar, and my words don’t count for anything.

I’m using he/him pronouns for Stormé DeLarverie, like the stonewall veteran association said to, and telling you he started the riot, calling it stealing transfem valor from a woman who told you she didn’t fucking do it.

I’m shoving my fingers down my throat in a fit of mania, convinced I can vomit up my uterus. She tells me I should be grateful, she’d do anything to be able to get pregnant.

My brother in the struggle gets bottom surgery without top, calling it stealing transfem valor to feel comfortable in his body.

It’s 2024 and I’m at trans pride, the announcers tells everyone to give a round of applause for trans woman, a round of applause for gender-queers, a round of applause for transfems, a round of applause for the enbies, a round of applause for trans-masculine people. You forgot someone. Did you know a trans man started the first ever transgender pride parade?

A book on queer history talks about gay men and lesbians and trans women and the women who dressed as men for better job opportunities. I’m reminded that my invisibility is a privilege, if you aren’t seen you don’t get bashed.

I’m 13 and they throw me in the girls bathroom, pin me down, beat me, and in black sharpie write “dyke”, write “tranny”, write “lesbo”, and pull my hair out the cap I shoved it in.

I’m 19 with D cups that a binder can’t hide and a beard I refuse to shave less I break the mirror and kill myself with the shards of glass I would swallow.

Man at the bus stop calls me tranny and tells me I’ll never be a woman. I’d laugh if he didn’t have his hand on my throat. Calling it stealing transfem valor.

I’m 21 and have to pull a taser on him, cause from the back, even with short hair and top surgery, I look rape-able.

I’m 23 and in the gay district when they chase me down the street, calling me faggot.

Make another forcemasc post, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Read an article about a trans man prostitute that kills himself and ends up another female statistic.

Read an article about a trans man shooter, they blame the HRT he didn’t have access too.

Going to read a callout about me, five pages on Google Docs, does this post make it on the list?

Do a final line of ketamine, write the final line of a poem that makes me want to die, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I puke and miss the toilet.

[mind-intheclouds342]

The perfect one - Trans Curly x Reader

Warning: Smutty!

To you, he was the best man you could have ever met, tall, blonde, with blue eyes, his beard tickled you every time you kissed him, his hands were big and perfect for holding your face, kind, compassionate, and you could keep naming many other qualities of his.

After so many failed relationships, you felt that you had finally met the right person for you. 

Maybe the only bad thing you could say about him was his job, which meant he was away too much, but in the last few months you were dating, there wasn't a day when you didn't receive a call from him and he would tell you how everything was going.

While you were waiting at the mall for their arrival to meet, someone had approached you. 

He looked familiar when you gave him a glance, until you realized he was a friend of Curly's, whom you had only seen in photographs. 

Jimmy: "Aren't you (Y/n)? Curly's girlfriend?"

"Um- yeah, it's me..." 

You nodded somewhat nervously at the man's sudden closeness. 

Jimmy: "Are you gay?"

"Excuse me?"

That question had caught you completely off guard. 

Jimmy: "Sure you are, otherwise you wouldn't be with Curly, right?" 

"I don't understand what you're talking about."

Jimmy: "You know, because he is a woman."

"Eh?"

Every word that came out of his mouth only made you feel more and more confused. 

Jimmy: "Didn't you know? He may look like a man and all, but he doesn't have what really makes a man."

"You know- I don't feel comfortable talking about this with you. I will kindly ask you to leave me alone and go away."

Jimmy: "Ugh, I'm just telling you the truth, you don't have to react that way."

He rolled his eyes. 

Jimmy: "You should be with a real man, I'm available if you're interested in that."

"No thanks, I would prefer to eat cockroaches."

You made an unpleasant grimace at that idea, but the thought of being much closer to that person for a longer time seemed even more disgusting to you. 

After rejecting him in a thousand different ways and having him insult you for rejecting him, he got tired enough to leave you alone. 

"What kind of friends does Curly have?"

You wondered, looking at the time on your phone, hoping he would arrive soon. 

And when you looked up from the screen, all you could see were yellow tulips in front of you. 

Curly: "Have you been waiting a long time for me?"

You melted at the sight of that beautiful smile he has, and the gesture of the flowers in a pot won your heart once again. 

"No, not at all, I arrived just a few minutes early."

You responded by greeting your boyfriend with a kiss on the lips, happy to see him again. 

Curly: "Great, shall we go to that new café you wanted to go to?"

"Of course~"

You clung to his arm and, attached to him, walked together until you reached that place.

You took a seat, leaving the flowers aside, and after glancing at the menu, you decided to place  your orders. 

Curly: "And? Have you thought about my proposal?"

"To go live with you?" You smiled, playing with the paper napkin on the table. "I don't know..." It's still a bit early~ we've only been dating for half a year"

Curly: "Mmm, but we've known each other for two years." 

"But it seems like you haven't told me everything~" 

Immediately, his calm demeanor changed to a more nervous one. 

Curly: "Hehehehe, what are you talking about?"

"I had the strangest conversation with your friend Jimmy, you told me he was a good guy, but damn, he's an idiot!" 

Curly: "Oh- um- and what did he say?"

"He started calling you less of a man and those things, he even called you a woman, I thought it was a bit exaggerated."

Curly: "Well... About that..."

"...Why would you hide something like this from me??"

Curly: "I didn't know how you were going to react... I like you a lot and I don't want to lose you..."

"Fool, it's not worth hiding those things, sooner or later they come to light, and it's better to say them beforehand." 

Both sighed and rested their heads in their hands. 

Curly: "You're going to leave me, aren't you? It's okay if you do it..."

"What?"

Curly: "At this point, this is where everyone leaves... For women, I was never a 'real man,' and for those who like women, I was never quite a woman, so... no one was satisfied with me after finding out that I am trans. " 

"I'm angry because you didn't tell me earlier. Not because you were born a woman"

Curly: "...Are you not going to leave me?"

"How could I leave the best man in the world?"

When he saw your smile and heard what you said, he couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and joy. 

At that moment, your drinks were brought to you, and you continued your conversation as if nothing had happened, talking about your jobs and friends, catching up after not having seen each other for a while.

You had decided to go to his house, you wanted to stay for dinner and sleep with him. 

"Was that you??" 

You said, surprised, looking at some photos from when he was a teenager, before testosterone. 

The two sitting on the couch in their living room. 

Curly: "Yeah... They always told me I looked very masculine, so I tried to look as feminine as possible so they wouldn't talk weird about me, but I think I just looked dumber." 

"You were so beautiful! You have always been handsome your whole life, it's unfair!"

You buried your face in his chest and hit him a couple of times softly, until you stopped and looked at him. 

Curly: "There's nothing left" he laughed lightly as if he could read what you were thinking. 

"Can I see?"

He blushed a little at your proposal, but he was quick to please you and take off his shirt. 

You attentively observed his scars, carefully touching them with the tips of your fingers. 

"I love them" 

Curly: "And i love yours," he smiled, seeing how focused you were on his chest. 

He became somewhat curious when you started looking at his face and chest repeatedly; he suspected you were up to something and confirmed it when you bit his chest out of nowhere. 

That was the greatest show of affection you could give him. 

"By the way! You need to work on your friendships. "

You told him when you stopped biting him, he was lying on the couch breathing heavily from how you had attacked him, his entire chest and neck marked with small bites and hickeys.

Curly: "Can we talk about that later?"

He said with a sigh and his cheeks red. 

"Of course" 

You smiled to climb on top of him and kiss his lips. 

You felt his hands resting on your thighs and then slowly sliding down to your butt to squeeze it. 

You let out a small sigh between your lips, causing him to pull away from you. 

Curly: "Are you sure about this?"

"More than sure" 

You confirmed it and let out a squeal when he grabbed you to carry you, getting up from the couch ready to take you to his room. 

When he laid you down on the bed, he immediately began kissing your neck and slipped his hands inside your shirt, trying to unfasten your bra. 

You felt his hands glide over your body to take off your shirt, momentarily parting from your neck to get rid of it and then placing a kiss back on your lips. 

He gave you a smile before turning to your breasts to start kissing them first, then licking them, and finally dedicating all his attention to your nipples, one in his mouth and the other being massaged by his left hand. 

He sucked, pressed with his lips, and moved his tongue in circles over one, while with the other he gently pulled and twisted, making them hard, causing you to arch your back while letting out small moans. 

Curly: "You sound so lovely..." 

"I didn't know you could be so eager..." 

You laughed a little until you saw him run his tongue between your breasts and then down to your stomach, leaving a kiss on it before he started to take off your pants.

"Hey! I'm not a rag doll!" 

You shook your legs to prevent him from completely removing the lower part of your clothes, it didn't bother you at all but you felt a bit lazy letting him do everything. 

You finished taking off your pants by yourself, left only in your underwear, sat on his bed, and smiled. 

"You have more clothes than I do."

Curly: "And if we leave that for another day? It doesn't bother me at all to please you today."

"Pants down"

You said it almost like an order, crossing your arms.

He sighed to start unbuttoning his pants, and as he lowered them, you saw that he was wearing boxers, but what caught your attention the most was the hair peeking out from the lower part of his stomach. 

"...Jungle?"

Curly: "Don't say it like that!"

"I see that the curtains match the rugs. "

Curly: "Don't keep on with that"

You let out a giggle and pushed him, making him fall back onto the bed. You rested your cheek on his thigh, playing with the edge of his boxers between your fingers, then slowly pulling them down to his knees. 

"Oh wow-" 

You just said that and Curly was already covering his face with his arms. 

You had never seen an erect clit in your life, but you didn't mind it at all, not to mention the amount of hair covering that area. 

You couldn't help but lean in and soon take it into your mouth to suck it, surprised when he suddenly lifted his hips and his legs trembled, perhaps you hadn't considered the sensitivity of that part. 

When you tried to pull away, his hands went to your head, pushing you against his pussy. 

Curly: "No, no, no, please don't stop"

And those words were enough for you to continue with the pleasure of that man, too immersed in his moans, not wanting to stop and even exploring a bit more by inserting two of your fingers inside him, giving him goosebumps. 

Curly: "Yesss, keep going like that- a little more- a little more and-!"

You could only drown your moan in his intimacy when his legs pushed you even more against him at the moment he reached his orgasm. 

Little by little, his trembling legs slid down your back, leaving you free, finally lifting your head with your cheeks red and your face all wet.. 

"Bleh"

You stuck out your tongue to get a hair off it, and both of you ended up looking at each other and then laughing for the same reason. 

Curly: "I think I got carried away-"

"Do you think so?" 

You murmured to lean over him and kiss his lips.

Curly: "Eew, you are soaked."

"Now you deal with it" 

They laughed as you planted kisses all over their face. 

Curly: "If you want to soak my face, do it like this"

He took your sides and pulled you up until your stomach was against his face, he started kissing you, tickling you, and making you sit on his chest.

"Hehehe what are you- oh my God-"

You let out a moan when he took your sides and ended up dragging you to his face, moving your panties aside with his teeth and inserting his tongue in an instant. 

You were definitely going to seriously consider moving in with him. 

[phantomrose96]

"This here is the evil lab," I say while gesturing to the many rows of horrible beast-like machines all huffing and rumbling and emitting wayward jets of steam like they're shooting mold spores into the air. "And this is my assistant Annie." I'm pointing to a small mousy woman with round glasses who I clearly have a problematic power dynamic over. "What do you have, Annie?"

Annie rips off a long stretch of accordion graph paper from some kind of seismograph machine. Everything on it is frantic zigzags but she reads it perfectly. "It says, 'Anyone who can say "my fav may be a war criminal but he said trans rights teehee" is demonstrating the obscene privilege of considering transphobia to be a real, material, harm to be treated with gravity and importance but acts-of-war are such fictional matters, having never affected your life, that you're free to joke about them.'"

"Excellent." I bang a fist on the nearest table and you jump a little because you think it's a very horrible machine doing something. "Tweet that IMMEDIATELY. Let me know when the blue-checkmarks and the furries respond." I ruffle Annie's hair and she involuntarily moans a little.

[s-che]

a game where we hurt each other

Last month, I played perhaps the most intense TTRPG session of my life as part of the Dream Library’s discussion of Bluebeard’s Bride, a game of “feminist horror” (more on this later) published by Magpie in a gorgeous print edition. Over the course of the month of October my guest lecturer/collaborator @marvelousmsmolly I collectively hosted three sessions of what was by far the most challenging game the Dream Library has ever discussed. 

We came to Bluebeard as the second part of our fall semester covering games of intimacy and monstrosity — a unit which began in September with Avery Alder’s Monsterhearts 2 and is continuing this month with Vampire: The Masquerade (If you want to get in on the VTM discussion and future semesters, please, come join). Both Molly and I suspected that Bluebeard was going to be both a quieter month and a riskier text — but opted to play through it anyway, albeit with some tools in place to make sure everyone knew what they were getting into with a book that doesn’t pull many punches. And with all that, the first two sessions went... fine? We had some lumpy pacing, some conflicting styles of play, some questions about how a game that really seems to encourage player bleed can possibly be played online, but for the most part things were fine. Not great, not bad — not worth the anxiety we’d had about them.

And “fine,” of course, doesn’t make for interesting conversations, so Molly and I took a step back. We talked about what was going wrong: a sense that neither of us quite felt comfortable hitting hard enough, even though we asked players ahead of time and at the start of sessions to tell us what was off the table. A frustration that player choice had trended towards the Bride as a detective/hero and not someone embodied in a world of horror. A confusion — once again — over what it means to ��shiver with terror” in a discord call with some friends online. Out of that conversation came a new idea: rather than two more one-shots, Molly took some time to charge up a spirit bomb and put together some more formal prep, then recruited a group she felt could get together for a more curated experience. She wrote up her own excellent thoughts on what went down — along with a lot of session details — but you’ll have to join the Dream Library for that. 

The result of all that curation and preparation was that on October 23rd a group of four trans women — Molly, @jdragsky, our friend Mars, and I — sat down to play Bluebeard’s Bride knowing exactly what we were in for. We would be playing a transfem Bride, Bluebeard would be cis, and we would be hitting transfem-specific horror as hard as we possibly could. 

I’m going to quote from Molly’s reflection, where she wrote:

“Another really great aspect of running this game for this table is there was such a clear feeling that we all understood, wordlessly, what was going on... There are some moments in Allison Rumfitt’s gothic horror novel ‘Tell Me I’m Worthless’ where it felt like the author, a trans woman, was dropping phrases knowing exactly how her transfem audience would react... This had a twofold effect of both giving the players a chilling moment but also, a very brief but appropriate separation between fiction and player where could all grimace and be together in that discomfort before pushing on. People knew what I was doing. The problem with the original game is it doesn’t really want to discuss the politics of what “feminine horror” means. Because of this you’re really lacking some focus. I think a table of cis women could actually play bluebeard’s bride in the way we did last night and have it hit hard for them if they approached it correctly, I don’t think our experience was uniquely elevated by our trans reading, however that was one of several tools we used for that elevation.”

Setting aside the strengths and weaknesses of the original text, that sense of shared experience was key to our game and key to allowing us to hit — and get hit — really hard and trust that our coplayers were there with us. Compared to our earlier efforts (prioritizing safety by taking things off the table via lines/veils) tightening the topical scope from an ambiguous “feminist horror” to a specific transfeminist horror in the context of a chaser bf, in the context of an economic disparity, in the context of the medical pressures of transition in the contemporary U.K. allowed Molly, our lovely host, to hurt us knowing that we were all in it together and choosing to play this game. It transformed the horror from an obstacle in an adventure game into a thing we were seeking out: a pleasure/pain we asked to feel. 

In a games discourse that is — understandably — interested in protections which might be implemented anywhere, including at cons and home tables with much less of an art-and-politics interest, safety tools are often thought about as a negative thing, a preemptive cutting away of all the things which might end up hurting us. I think that’s part of why people can have a hard time filling out a lines/veils list in advance of a session. What are all the things in the world I’m sensitive to? What are all the contexts in which I’m sensitive to them? Good sensitive or bad sensitive? Sensitive enough to cause a scene? Sensitive enough to make it off the table? 

In place of that — and in a table with a really remarkable amount of trust — this final Bluebeard session leaned in, hard, to the things that hurt us. That was the game. Molly wrote a lot about kink in her reflection, and I think she was right to do that. The point of the game was to hurt each other and to feel, and it was a better game for keeping that in mind. It was an actual horror game, and not just a game with horror aesthetics. I agree with Molly that there was nothing essential about having an all-transfem table — I think what we did could be done by anyone, even with the base Bluebeard’s Bride. What was essential was having a table where we all trusted each other enough to play a hurting game and to know that we were there on purpose. It elevated Bluebeard’s Bride into a really fascinating, messy experience — one I can’t wait to play again.

[meadowfics]

meet me down on polk street

cho hyun-ju x f!woc!reader

part two here - this is part three - part four here

this is a series that is based in the united states during the 1960s. after coming out as a trans woman back in south korea, hyun ju moves far away to california and has mets the girl who is the love of her life.. y/n l/n.

warnings: hookup and sexual liberation was on the rise in the late 1960s so this part is nsfw!!!! 18+. minors dni. switch!hyunju. switch!reader. pre-bottom transition hyunju. oral (r and chj receiving). fingering (r receiving). chj and reader move pretty fast but honestly as they should.

y/n's living room linked here

you unlock your apartment door and push it open, gesturing for hyun ju to step inside first.

she hesitates, just for a second, before stepping over the threshold.  

the scent hits her immediately…soft, floral, like jasmine lingering in the air. it isn’t overpowering, just natural, as if it belongs to the space itself. hyun ju inhales deeply, letting it settle into her senses. 

your home smells nice. warm. lived-in.  

as she steps further inside, her gaze drifts downward.  

a shoe stand sits neatly by the door, lined with your footwear…small details of your life.  

a few pairs of heels, elegant and simple.  

a sleek pair of black go-go boots that catch the dim light, making them look almost new.  

a pair of red rainbows, slightly worn but still vibrant.  

a navy blue pair of sneakers…hyun ju doesn’t recognize the brand, but she can tell they’re made for running. she makes a mental note to ask you about them later.  

then, at the very front, a pair of pink slippers.  

hyun ju watches as you step inside, reaching down to unbuckle your white heeled boots. with practiced ease, you slip them off and immediately slide your feet into the soft pink slippers, flexing your toes as if it’s second nature.  

you catch her watching and raise a brow.  

"i like walking around in these. something about wearing shoes in the house feels… wrong."  

hyun ju chuckles softly, nodding in agreement.  

she follows suit, unzipping her own black heeled boots and setting them beside yours. the woman’s white socks press against the hardwood floor, cool and grounding.  

your apartment is modest, but beautiful in its own way.  

she follows you through the space as you casually show her around…where the kitchen is, where she can find the bathroom, how to work the analog box tv.  

there’s something about the way you’re doing this, like you aren’t just showing her a place to crash for the night.  

like you want her to stay.

like you’re making space for her.  

she notices the little things…the way your fingers brush over the curtains as you walk past them, the way you flick the light switch on and off in the hallway just to make sure she knows where it is.  

as if this isn’t a one-time thing.  

as if you want her to feel safe here.  

it’s… nice.  

"have a seat," you say, motioning toward your couch before heading to the kitchen.  

hyun ju hesitates for only a second before settling onto the couch. it’s comfortable, soft, the kind of couch someone could sink into for hours.  

as she looks around, she takes in the small details of your living room…the warm yellow light of the lamp not too far from here, the framed photos on the bookshelf, the neatly stacked trinkets on the coffee table.  

the television hums to life as you turn it on, flipping through the channels.  

it lands on a late-night broadcast…some old black-and-white film she doesn’t recognize, the voices tinny and distant.  

its 4am at this point, so the morning broadcasts do not start until six.

you disappear into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a glass.  

"drink this," you say, holding it out to her.  

hyun ju looks down at it, the bright orange liquid swirling under the light.  

she smirks, glancing up at you. 

"vitamin c?"  

"just so you don’t wake up with a headache in the morning," you tease.  

hyun ju chuckles, shaking her head. 

"i have woken up to worse."  

you raise a brow. 

"oh?"  

she leans back into the couch, fingers brushing over the rim of the glass.  

"special forces training," she says simply, a glint of amusement in her eyes. 

"some days were… rougher than others."  

you hum, crossing your arms as you watch her.  

"i know," you say, voice softer now. 

"but you aren’t there anymore."  

she looks at you, something shifting in her expression.  

"you’re here," you continue, "and deserve the best treatment from me."  

you smirk.  

hyun ju’s breath catches slightly, her grip tightening on the glass.  

she blinks, then lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head.  

"you are dangerous," she murmurs.  

you grin.  

"what can i say? i like taking care of beautiful women."  

hyun ju freezes for a fraction of a second.  

her dark eyes flicker over to you, scanning your face, as if she’s waiting for you to take the words back.  

you don’t.  

instead, you plop down on the couch beside her, curling your legs up slightly as you lean back.  

hyun ju watches the way your curls bounce with the movement, how they frame your face naturally, soft but voluminous.  

she wants to reach out.  

to touch.  

you do not pay attention to the television. 

you are paying attention to her and admiring the way that she fidgets with her fingers, how she crosses her legs like there is not enough space on the couch. 

oh how much you want her. 

you scoot yourself close to hyun-ju, so you are hip to hip. usually, you are never this bold, not at all. however, hyun-ju is inviting you to her. she is doing the triangle method on your face.

left eye, your plump lips, right eye. 

right eye, your plump lips, left eye. 

neither of you looked away from eachother.  

hyun ju swallowed, her throat bobbing slightly.  

your lips parted, your chest rising with a slow inhale.  

the tension snapped.  

without thinking, without hesitating, you leaned in.  

hyun ju met you halfway.  

your lips crashed together, warm and insistent, it was like a desperate meeting of months—years—of longing neither of you had dared to voice before. even though you guys only met seven hours ago. 

she tasted like orange juice and whiskey, a strange but intoxicating mix.  

hyun ju’s hands hesitated for only a moment before finding their way to your waist, her grip firm but gentle, like she was afraid of holding on too tight.  

you deepened the kiss, one hand sliding up her arm, tracing the curve of her shoulder before tangling in her dark hair.  

she shuddered at the touch, her lips parting slightly as she let out a soft, shaky breath.  

you took the opportunity to slip your tongue against hers, teasing, slow.  

hyun ju exhaled sharply through her nose, her grip on your waist tightening.  

the heat between you was unbearable, overwhelming.  

you shifted on your green couch, pressing closer, your knee brushing against hers as you tilted your head, deepening the kiss.  

hyun ju let out a soft, low sound, something between a sigh and a moan, and it sent a thrill straight down your spine.  

your fingers slid down to the collar of her dress, playing with the fabric, teasing.  

she broke the kiss for only a second, her forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard.  

“you sure about this?” 

she murmured, her voice husky, laced with something unsteady.  

you didn’t hesitate.  

“yes.”  

hyun ju swallowed, her hands moving from your waist to your back, pressing you closer, until there was no space left between you.  

you kissed her again, harder this time, deeper, your body melting into hers, your fingers tracing the curve of her jaw, memorizing every inch of her.  

the world outside your apartment, outside this moment, didn’t exist.  

there was only her.  

only this.  

only the slow, intoxicating burn of two people who knew what they wanted. 

you feel yourself fall back onto your couch as hyun-ju climbed on top of you. the way her soft body lingered on top of yours caused you to lift your legs up slowly. 

your right heel wrapped around to hyun-ju’s mid back, pulling her down lower until her chest was pressed up against hers. meanwhile, your left heel goes to her butt, massaging her right glute while one of her hands goes over to grab the other. 

hyun ju whimpers at the contact, at the same time, you press your core up into hers.. making sure that she was satisfied as she moved her lips down your jawline. 

a little more happens before hyun-ju is sat on your couch, with you and your knees resting on the soft living room floor of yours. 

at first, hyun ju was hesitant about this. again, there was access to bottom surgery but she did not have the funds to get that done yet. luckily, she had the funds to get her top surgery, but she wonders how you’d react after pulling her dress up. 

“hyun-ju, sweetie?” 

you looked up, your glistening eyes taking a look at the insecure hyun-ju. 

“i don’t have to do this if you do not want me to. i am okay if that is what you are worried about, i do not mind at all.” you hinted while reassuring her. 

she sees the genuine honesty in her eyes, you didn’t care about her genitalia, you just wanted hyun-ju to feel good. 

when she lets you continue, you pulled up hyun-ju’s dress and slid down her blue boyshort panties to reveal her aching cock. you could’ve drooled right there, the way hyun-ju whimpers at her cock being free while you took one kitten lick at her pink tip. 

you look up at hyun-ju with a smirk, backing your head up for a second while you took her length in your hands, slowly pumping it up and down before giving pepper kisses and kitty licks to the pink tip again.

hyun-ju slowly wrapped your hair into a loose ponytail while you wrapped your lips around her head, trying to take her length whole. she’s so pretty, so perfect, everything about her was just so perfect and you could do this forever.

your hand wrapped around the parts that your mouth could not push down on. at this point, your clit was throbbing. you wanted to play with yourself, but maybe soon, you’d just have to suffer with the pool leaking through your red panties while you make hyun-ju feel good. 

as you took her deeper in your throat, you started to notice hyun-ju spreading her legs out more. thats it. you pulled away, making out with her balls while making sure that your fingers lightly stimulate her tip still. she let out a breathy moan before grabbing you hair and moving your head back onto her shaft herself.

that’s sexy.

“you’re doing so good, m'love, fuc– that’s it…” she mumbled, gazing lovingly at your watering eyes while you look up at her.

you felt her shaft twitch inside of your throat, at the same time she released the grip on your hair, only for her to come undone all inside of your throat, the sweet substance being something that you crave even more now. 

after standing up, your knees a bit sore, hyun-ju grabbed your waist and laid you down on your couch, spreading your legs to reveal the huge wet spot on your underwear. 

“oh baby,” hyun-ju mumbled, softly pulling your red panties down to reveal the mess that you made. 

“please.” 

you mumbled. 

“please what?” 

hyun-ju smiles lightly. 

“i want you to eat my pussy, please.” 

you mumbled, feeling yourself getting wetter as hyun-ju opened your legs more, your knees coming closer to being beside your face. 

the korean lowers her face in-between your legs, growing impatient herself with her teasing. 

"fuck! that's it." you moan when you feel hyun-ju’s plump lips make contact with your clit. 

your eyes look at her with so much lust and love as she makes out with your pussy. your hand reaches into hyunju’s soft hair to keep her there, never wanting to separate her head from your wet pussy.

when hyun-ju puts two fingers inside of your vagina, suckling her clit at the same time, you squealed as you started stimulating your right nipple. 

"yes, yes that! fuck fuck fuck that feels so fucking good do not stop!" your head tilting back on your green colored sofa with pleasure.

“never.” 

you hear her mumble against your clit, sending a vibration which speeds up your orgasm. 

she pulls back her fingers and her mouth before you can cum, and you quickly looks back down at her, your grip on her hair tightening, making hyun-ju sigh as your mess is spread across her lower face. 

hyunju looks so beautiful.

“sorry.” 

hyunju smirks, knowing she really is not sorry for teasing you.

she leans back down, moaning as she takes your clit into her mouth. you relax, closing your eyes so you do not cum so quickly. 

"swee-heart if u keep d-do-doing that I'll cum!"

your virginia accent suddenly jumps out as your eyes start to roll back.

"oh fuck! yes yes yes fuck youre so perfect fuck just like that!"

you squeal, tightening your hand in her hair, your hips grinding against her mouth as she reaches for your release.

"i-i’m" you squeal again as you clench around herr fingers. 

"you’re so perfect." you say breathlessly. 

hyunju’s face is covering in your post-orgasm mess, but you did not care as she comes up to kiss you more.

you felt your taste on your tongue, all of the mixes being so sweet. 

hyunju looks so pussy drunk, there is no way that this is her first time giving head but you won’t ask. 

“stay.” 

you mumble against her tongue. 

“huh?”

hyunju gives you a curious look, your noses touching. 

“please don’t leave after tonight. we can get your stuff from the hotel, an-and you can stay here with me, as long as you need, you can live here with me and we can be together.” 

you plead. 

hyunju nods her head rapidly, knowing she does not want to leave you. 

“don’t worry i’m staying.” 

she gives you a peck on the lips. 

“i’m staying.”

next part will be linked here

[doberbutts]

is it just me or is like the whole stuff of cishet men dni and (cis perisex) women only spaces conflating vulnerability with safety? like, with a cis man and a cis woman who otherwise have quote unquote equal positions in society otherwise, there's the risk (or put it danger) from him being able to use his male privilege against her. but if it were a trans man or another cis woman instead that doesn't make them safe and unable to weaponize misogyny or commit interpersonal violence against her, they are just vulnerable to her ability to fight back so to speak in ways that the cis man isn't. but it feels like (general) we talk about these things like they're the same.

I firmly believe that every single transgender person is a marginalized gender due to their transgender status- this is something that I have seen discussed within black transfeminism regularly (see also: MaGe) and yet we get onto tumblr and suddenly all of that disappears under "by effect of being a man you inherently have male privilege and your very existence oppresses all women" rather than realize that transgender people as a whole operate within a structure of marginalization themselves.

As I have said repeatedly- it's not that I don't think trans men are capable of having male privilege (we are) or that I don't think trans men can contribute to and even utilize misogyny to our benefit (we can) - it's that the power and effect of this can depend wildly from trans man to trans man, and what one trans man is capable of might be well out of reach for another.

I have a good friend who is, on paper, demographically very similar to me. She is a cis lesbian, black/white/native, occupying the same tax bracket and occupation, disabled and neurodiverse. We've had extensive discussions about black and gender and gay politics, even when we don't agree we can usually see where each other is coming from.

I have absolutely no problem stating that in certain situations, I do absolutely have privilege over her despite my status as trans and hers as cis. I'm fairly cis-passing at this point. We go out to eat together whenever we can- it is demonstratably significantly more likely that she will be hit on and harassed by a cishet man looking to shoot his shot with a pretty girl than I am. It is significantly more likely that any and all pushback she gives this hypothetical man will be, at best, ignored, and at worst, met with physical or sexual violence. It is also significantly more likely that my very presence at the table will prevent him from doing so, as my approximate physical positioning to her acts as a claim to would-be creeps, and any pushback I give in this scenario is more likely to be met with him backing off.

It's also true that should this would-be creep clock me, register either of our gay signaling, or be racist on top of sexist, this situation might also go sideways for the both of us at any given point. It's entirely possible that this guy will spike her drink when I get up to use the bathroom, or that he'll follow us out to the parking lot and stab one of us, or cause a scene to get us both kicked out. We are both black and gay, after all. Intersectionality is key, here.

Three years ago, I had not yet started testosterone. I only passed maybe 50% of the time, and usually assumed to be a teenager despite being just touching 30. Three years ago, this hypothetical situation would have played out much differently.

Twelve years ago, it did. I was in college and had gone to a local McDonalds with one of my friends, another student there, for lunch. A man old enough to be our grandfather began to hit on us, ignoring our pushback and attempts to move away from and ignore him. I was binding at the time, with my hair cut short, going by he/him exclusively with my friends and out within my college sphere. And yet, what made this guy back off was my (white) cishet friend who prickled at him and began to make a scene until he heard that we were college students, at which point he disengaged entirely. Yup- he was looking for high schoolers to creep on, and we both made various noises of disgust once we realized his actual target.

Being a trans man had very little if any effect on this situation- my presence at the table was no help, my refusal to play ball was no help telling him to go away and that we were not interested was no help. The only thing that helped was killing his pedophile boner once he knew we were adults. I shudder to think what would have happened had we actually been kids.

Back to my cis lesbian friend and the present day- the portion of the sport and dog fancy we both occupy is very cis woman dominated. She can and often does flex what power she has in order to help others get their start- we joke often that she's collecting a posse of trans men as she's somehow managed to sell to majority trans men with her most recent litter. She has no problem wading into a situation where a trans man is being ejected from a queer group and arguing for his right to stay. Early on in my transition, she would loudly correct pretty much anyone misgendering me until that person fixed their shit- and would hover making faces behind me if I was present at a show and they were being a shit about it.

She also sometimes goes on woman-only retreats. And, to be clear, it is her opinion that a trans woman by definition of being a woman should be invited to these retreats. She does not want men at these woman-only retreats, and that does include trans men. And, you know what? I don't really blame her- she wants a space where her womanhood is centered and not have to deal with Men And Their Feelings. Fair- men can be exhausting to deal with especially for lesbians. But she also agrees that maybe pushing a freshly-out trans man out of the group is perhaps a bit cruel if he has been there for years. Most likely, he will go on his own once he gets his feet under him. There's no need to shove him out the door prematurely.

And I think that's really the crux of it.

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

I have this headcanon for Alastor's back story where he's trans, and just as himself, as he is in the show, even as a kid. So his parents sent him of to a convent, were upon ww1 breaking out in his late teens, he ran away, forged a new identity as a man, got found out once he was already over seas, blackmailed a superior into letting him stay on, where he was introduced to radio communication, and the rest is history.

But all that to say, I like to then imagine, whenever anyone tells him something mildly outlandish, but definitely true, he likes to respond with "Yes, Vox, and I took a vow of celibacy when I was a catholic nun"

To which of course people think, "so you don't belive me? I mean but aren't you a virgin? Are you not????"

And of course, this never gets asked because who's gonna ask The Radio Demom about his Sexy Life.

Angel Dust that's who.

I imagine him doing an interview on Al's Show, just a mix of publicity for them both, hanging out because they're friends, and it's all a big middle finger to the Vee's.

Maybe it's pride month and so they were planning some talk about that, Alastor joking about a possible comming out, even though its plenty well know Alastor is some where on the ace spectrum to anyone with eyes.

They get on the topic somehow, Angel says something like, "I never laid myself across the bar like that! Second set of arms at most! Never my butt, never mind my legs! not after the first time!"

"Mh-hm. You got desperate in your flirting, and I took a vow of celibacy, when I was a nun. We all do silly things, Angel."

"Well, maybe I've laid out on the pool table, but it makes for good pictures. Anyway, I been meaning to ask you about that."

"About being a nun?

"No," angel laughs, plays it off, thinking he's joking. "About your being ace and all. No pressure, but like, you really never even wanted to try?"

"No, I find it quite repulsive. The idea even,"

"You don't watch nothin'? Read nothing either?"

"Ha! No! The filthy little novel Sister Amillia sneaked in the once was quite enough- are you okay Angel?"

Angel had infact just chocked on his latte. "Wait? Sister Amillia? Sneaked in? To where!?"

"The convent, Angel. I was 14, she was 16. Wonderful woman, taught me how to handle a knife, she left shortly after the novel was discovered- Sister Tabitha was as squeaky a little rat as she looked- never saw Amillia again, though."

"Wait, sorry. You were a nun, like, actually? What the fuck?"

One of the little lights that says they have a caller lit up, but Alastor ignore it for now. "Yes, Angel, do keep up."

"Wait, so like that nun costume you wear on halloween?" Angel blows right past the fact Alastor just came out as trans, because yeah. Didnt see it comming but, the trains already wizzing by, and more importantly- "Is that like your actual nun costume?"

"Ha! No, I flung that horrid thing in a garbage can on my way to the enlistment office when I was 17."

"Enlistment?" Angels begining to see what Alastor meant when he said this episode was going to be a unique experience for his listeners at the start of the braodcast. "Like world War 1, right? You were alive for that..."

"Yes, I figured with all the confusion one little girl-"

Angel's phone goes off. It's Val. Angel hits ignore.

"Fuck off Val, I'm off today" Angel says into his mic.

But they get interrupted again and again until Angel turns his phone off.

At which point all twelve of the little light that indicate the show had callers on the line, light up.

"Ah fuck. What does he want that bad? Can you just answer it real quick?"

Alastor flips a switch and answers.

"The fuck you want Val-"

"I'm not calling for you!" It's Vox on the other end, his voice booming from the speaker "Alastor! Are you fucking serious? You were a fucking nun?"

"Yes, Vox." He says with faux patience. "My goodness, did you all stuff your ears with cotton this morn-"

"So you DID actually take a vow of Celibacy? The other day at the meeting during my presentation, you said "that'll work, Vox, sure- and I took a vow-"

"Yes. I was there."

"And!?!"

"Celibacy, among other things. If this is a dig at my sexuality than-"

"Nah fuck that, hang on I'm doing math! Okay you were born in 1901, makes you 17 in 1918, yeah that tracks. Okay so 2024 make you 123, minus the 17 years to be conservative, thats 106 yeah?"

"I was 15 when I took that vow, and under threat of being institutionalized, if that's what you're getting at-"

"108! Ha! Oh my God! 108 years! That's gotta be a record!"

"What are you getting at Vox?"

"You took a vow!" Vox screams through his laughter. "All the pomp and circumstance! On consecrated ground! before god!? To abstain from sex! And even here in hell, were sin and blasphemy are rampant and free-"

"Careful Vox, your televangelist is showing-"

"Who gives a fuck!? You're the one whos upheld their vow to God for over a century like some devout saint!"

Angel and Alastor sit there staring at eachother while Vox laughs his head off around them

"Saint Alastor the Abstinent! The pantron Saint of Virgi-"

Alastor hangs up. "Well that was informative!" Alastor chirps "Well, What's to be done about this? Hm, Angel?"

And for some reason, an unholy one, surely, the first thing out of Angel's mouth is "I could suck you dick? If that- would count?"

And it's a testament to how far they've come as friends, or pooooossbily Alastor's nerves, or maybe his sheer unwavering bravado, but Alastor only bursts out laughing, shaking his head as he get out between laughter "I don't- have one!"

And then they're both laughing and laughing and laughing, and eventually they calm down, and Alastor gets a thoughtful look. "Though, Vox did have one good point."

"Oh?"

"That does have to be a recorded, at least among sinners. Why! I very well might have redeemed myself! We should certainly bring this up with Sera at the next conference!"

And then their off both laughing again, imaging Serra's face when she realises she's going to have to look into yet more research onto the workings of redemption from Heaven's end.

[genderkoolaid]

I am sitting in a large conference room. It is bare, utilitarian. It could be an interrogation room. I am compulsively picking at a piece of black trim peeling off the edge of the slate-gray table. The hum of the ventilation system fills the silence, which is heavy. Floating heads stare in my direction waiting for a reply — or is it a confession? “So, Ms. Johnson,” a voice begins. “Please tell us exactly what you are requesting.” The “us” consists of the warden, assistant warden, assistant warden of programs, head nurse and head psychologist that make up my North Carolina facility’s Transgender Accommodation Review Committee. The topic was my underwear. Earlier in the day, I was held back from my work-release job for a meeting with prison administrators to discuss my request to wear boxers instead of women’s panties. For almost two decades, I have struggled against the system for the right to wear items that conform to my gender identity. I have lived a large part of my life as a reluctant female, but I’ve always felt more masculine. While I don’t consider myself a man, I also don’t feel like a woman. Yet most places, especially my North Carolina prison, want clearly delineated identifications. It is not enough to say, “I am nonbinary; I would prefer men’s boxers.” I know that I am not alone in this journey, as I have met many other trans and nonbinary people in prison. The following is my guide for what to expect as a nonbinary person navigating the prison system.