#But when I a trans person does it it's suddenly “you're not actually trans!”

[mrpuppett]

.

[psychotrenny]

It's interesting how you'll see people (correctly) point out that being oppressed as a trans women doesn't prevent someone from participating in racism, only to then go on and say incredibly transmisogynstic things about "white trans women" and justify it by the racial oppression they personally face. Like on the surface it's an obviously self-defeating argument; if you've already established "suffering from one form of oppression doesn't absolve participation in another" you can't then immediately go ahead and use the bigotry you suffer to negate the bigotry you perform. But I think the key here is that a lot of people don't see "transmisogyny" as a genuine axis of oppression

Like there's a form of rhetoric that's widespread among progressives that (sometimes explicitly but more often implicitly) presents trans women not a type of woman, but in fact a type of degenerate or delusional man that "we" have a moral duty to tolerate and play along with. The second a trans woman does something sufficiently immoral, that obligation of tolerance vanishes and you're free to treat him (I mean them) as the predatory weirdo he (I mean they) is. And even "the good ones" aren't entitled to full respect and humanity; well-behaved trannies just get fewer reminders of how fake their womanhood is. Like people have trouble grasping that "transmisogyny" is a type of misogyny, a type of bigotry as serious as any other, because they don't see "trans woman" as a type of woman

And yes, all this transmisogynistic talk around "white trans women" rhetorically erases the existence of trans women of colour and in material terms does significantly more harm to them than to actual white transfems. That aspect is very important to talk about. But the primary contradiction here is around transmisogyny itself; even if trans women of colour were magically exempt or non-existent it's still a very harmful and reactionary line of thinking. It's not as though misogyny suddenly becomes good when the targets are white women; why should that change because you've pre-fixed it with a "trans"

[magnetothemagnificent]

I actually don't think that the high percentage of autistic people who are trans/nonbinary has anything to do with how autistic brains work, and I think insisting that it does is a dangerous path to go down.

Rather, I think it has a lot more to do with the fact that people who are already othered in some way are more likely to question aspects of themselves and their identities than people who aren't othered.

Autistic people, and really, all neurodivergent people, are already the Other. Whether diagnosed or not, autistic people already feel different and already wonder why they're different. You can say the same about any Othered demographic. A cishet, white, able-bodied person in the US is less likely to question deeply how they feel because being of the normative class, they just assume others feel the exact same way as them (even if it's not the case).

Think about how many seemingly cishet people say things that make us as non-cishet folks tilt our head a bit, when they say things like "everyone is a little bi, doesn't mean you're gay" or "everyone's felt like a different gender, doesn't mean you're trans", because obviously not everyone actually feels that way and maybe these people could benefit from a bit more introspection, but they never considered it because they assumed everyone felt that way because everything else about their identity- whiteness, abledness, income- is considered The Norm.

So, an autistic person who already has felt different and othered their whole life, who has already been constantly questioning themself, is more likely to also question their sexuality and/or gender identity because they don't really have anything to lose and are already questioning anyway. Meanwhile, a neurotypical person with the same unaddressed feelings about their gender and/or sexuality is more likely not to address those feelings because they either think they're unremarkable or because they fear the repercussions of suddenly Not Being The Norm.

It's not that autistic brains are more wired to not be cishet, it's that autistic people, by being the Other, are just going to be more open to questioning their identity because their identity is already in question by everyone around them.

[genderqueerdykes]

I read your responsr to an afab person identifying as transfemme, and im wondering if the concept of "othering" trans-women has occurred to you.

If youre afab, and identify as femme, thats cisgender. To identify as transfemme is saying that trans women are not women. Trans women, by definition, are amab. So i am curious how one can feel this way while thinking it does absolutely no harm to your trans sisters

hello- your definition of "othering" is completely incorrect.

you are ignoring the existence of intersex transfemmes who were assigned afab at one point

you are ignoring the existence of intersex transfemmes of any agab, including amab and none

you are ignoring the existence of transfemmes of color who are misgendered due to features due to racism. women of color are constantly misgendered by white people because our features do not match those of white women

you are ignoring the existence afab people who were forcibly raised male

you are ignoring the broader spectrum of what transfemininity can encompass, therefore, you are the one othering transfemmes. you are the one who literally does not care about your trans sisters

trans man does not mean afab. trans woman does not mean amab. where did you get that information from, because it literally completely excludes the existence of intersex people. you're not a transfeminist by aggressively ignoring intersex people when a lot of the afab transfemme people who come here to talk about their actual real world lived experiences are in fact intersex. you are aggressively ignoring the truth

you're disrespecting me as well, which you don't seem to care about. i'm an intersex transfemme person. i'm someone who was born amab, forcibly changed to afab, forced on estrogen hrt, and then needed to transition my body back to masculine because of severe dysphoria, and also health issues due to low testosterone levels. i was constantly told my entire childhood that i could not be a girl or woman because of how masculine my face and body was. i developed a beard during puberty. misgendering was rampant during this time. then i came out as genderqueer and suddenly i wasn't allowed to be a man, either.

have you talked to a wide variety of transfemmes or do you stick to a specific archetype and bubble? you value strawmen and conjecture over people who have actually lived that life. you need to leave your echo chamber (and house) and talk to more transfemme, non binary, intersex people and people of color in general. take a second to listen to people when they speak. you're not the protagonist of life. your logic is shit.

[nothorses]

An actual conversation I had at my local lgbt center

Me: no one uses the correct pronouns for me anyway so just take your pick and I'll live with it

Staff: its really important to us that we use the correct pronouns for everyone

Me: I've been coming here for years, I know that the right pronouns will not be used and by not saying what pronouns I use incan at least pretend that I'm being misgendered because no one knows what pronouns to use rather than because no one sees me as my actual gender. Please just let me have that.

Staff: I know in the past it's been that way in the past, but I can assure you that we're improving, and everyone here will do the best we can to ensure we use the correct pronouns

Me: fine, I use he/him pronouns

Staff: thank you *proceeds to use they/them for me all day, not once was I actually gendered correctly*

It's like that everywhere. I went to pride with 4 separate pronoun pins on my chest and was she/her or they/them all day. Not one person used the correct pronouns. Including the person I was buying the fourth pin from.

Oh yeah, it's absolutely a common experience.

What frustrates me the most, I think, is when I initially pass, get he/him'd effortlessly and always, and later come out on my own- meaning they literally wouldn't have known if I hadn't told them- and suddenly I never hear he/him again.

And not just from conservatives; from people who actively and frequently talk about trans allyship of their own accord.

I got she/her'd all the time back when I was trying to get they/them'd; I could pass that off as like, "forgetting" and defaulting to appearance-based assumptions. Still shitty, probably more of a choice than I was assuming (for my own sake), but also like, it felt much more passive to me. I could kinda handwave it and go, "as long as you're trying, it's fine!"

This feels almost malicious. And I know it isn't, but I also know it's not just forgetting- in that moment that they think about what pronouns to use for me, there is hesitation. They ask themselves questions that they never asked when they thought I was cis. Ultimately, they decide they just can't bring themselves to use pronouns for me that they found effortless before they knew.

Because I'm trans, and that has fundamentally changed the way they see me, and these are people who will never even acknowledge that. They'll just go on thinking they're doing a great job as trans allies, likely even if I have the presence of mind to catch and correct it when it does happen around me.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Yo you know what

Miguel O'hara would be the BIGGEST trans ally on campus.

He hates transphobia. He hates anyone who entertains the idea or logic of it. He hates people who talk down about or scrutinize HRT.

And he really can't stand people who call trans people's genders and identity into question.

SO WHAT if someone feels the need to take an injection or pill to be at peace?

Miguel can't MAKE webs - not like a lot of Spider-people can. Okay. He's still Spider-man.

So what the hells the problem?

I said this in another post but like - he would NOT let that shit fly by him.

I am a strong believer in Mild Miguel who is literally just some dude -

But this is one thing he'll pop off for.

He hears a new recruit spewing transphobic bullshit on campus. Suddenly Miguel is fucking fuming, calls them into his office and is like

'Oh you think what people inject into their body to go about their lives in peace is your business? Is that right? You think someone's titles are up to you? Isn't that cute :)'

*starts throwing shit at them*

Like you would never question Miguels place as Spider-man to his face. The same way Miguel would NEVER let you doubt his identity as Spider-man, he'd never let anyone else doubt the identity of a trans person.

So you WILL gender Gwen right and you WILL say she/her.

He just finds it unacceptable. Miguel sees himself like - the manager of a company.

He thinks he SHOULD NOT have to be teaching people basic fucking respect. That's something you get at home and bring with you.

They're Spider-people. HEROS. If he has to explain such a simple concept to you- NOT being transphobic - he's already doubting your entire competency as both a Spider-person and like...an actual person lol

This is not a debatable thing. This is a two strike system with him. One warning with an apology, Second time - either punishment or he's just gonna fucking dismiss you.

He'd look at a transphobe and be like 'Go home. This Spider-man thing is very obviously not for you. You aren't welcome here.'

He will cancel meetings and call a member to his office immediately if a discrimination report comes in - YES HE DOES CHECK FOR THOSE REPORTS. He reads them personally.

If you're unknowledgeable, there's resources on campus and a Sensitivity Training Course.

He knows some universes just aren't up to speed with LGBT rights. Understandable - all there's resources there to help those adjust, integrate, and celebrate queer people.

The Society even has an LGBT center.

The Society has a robust and safe HRT care program that utilizes 2099 technology. There's trans educated therapists on campus and support groups. If you're stealth you can also get private services.

He'll PERSONALLY reassure any trans Spider-person that they are who they are supposed to be. And that their place in the universe isn't ruined by the fact they're trans.

He'd absolutely tell a trans Peter Parker that taking T doesn't make him less of a Spider-man by ANY capacity.

And that on campus they will be seen for the real person they are - not whatever transphobic labels their universe gives them.

The same way he compliments Lego-Spiderman, he'll try to uplift trans members and look out for them.

Like imagine walking into Miguel's office excited to tell him you started HRT at the center.

And he stops his filing and stops his conversation with Lyla to congratulate you, and tell you he's excited for you and your progress.

After a mission, when you come to report it to him he listens. And he waits until ur teammates are filing out to come over and ask how HRTs going, if you're feeling good, if you need any resource he can talk to Lyla about.

He always remembers anniversaries, walking by to drop a casual 'Three months.' and a thumbs up.

It's only a short little interaction, but it's still appreciated. He still cares.

Miguel would absolutely believe that no matter how you got to who you are - you are who you say you are. And no matter what other people say about you - you are who you say you are.

He's Spider-man and you're you.

And if anybody got anything to say about it he's going Miguel Mode

I love Mild Miguel. Mild Mentor Trans Ally Miguel

[glass--beach]

I know you're not being open about your maybe-plurality on tumblr for other people's sakes, but I want to say thanks for being open about it, and speaking honestly about your feelings. I've been through a very similar journey recently and I felt extremely alone with how I was thinking about/approaching it.

I firmly believe that it doesn't matter whether you have a diagnosable dissociative disorder, I'm too critical of psych to put much stake in that. My journey has always revolved around one question: What is the most useful way to think about myself?

And I spent years trying to be a "singlet". I spent my whole life trying to be one person. But then I didn't know how to introduce myself. I don't know what my hobbies are. I don't know what my goals are. It wasn't just indecisiveness for me, it was a whole different way of seeing the world, of thinking, different core beliefs and opinions that changed the way I behaved and socialized and studied and worked.

For all these years I thought of myself as a "nothing person" as a result. Someone with no particular talents or skills of personalities. I watched my friends grow up and get PhDs and high paying jobs and write books and I still felt like a toddler too overwhelmed by choices and drawn to too many things and not present enough to commit fully to being anyone in particular.

I don't think singlet people understand how damaging it is to not know yourself, or to try to be someone you're not. Well actually, maybe trans singlets do know that. It did feel an awful lot like gender dysphoria but it wasn't just about gender, it was about my whole me.

I'm doing better now. And the reason I'm doing better is because I stopped trying to be a singular person. I recognized that there are multiple identities in here. We have an artist. We have a scientist. We have a sleepy caterpillar. We have a young child. None of those people feel that dreadful "nothingness" anymore. They know who they are, what they like, what their aspirations are, how they like to talk to people. They don't feel like a confused upset failure when they suddenly aren't *themselves* anymore.

A different part/alter/headmate being asocial doesn't undo all of the social skills I have. Me being bad at math doesn't take away from one of my alters who is awesome at it. They're still allowed to identify with their own traits and features without feeling like a fraud because of the fact that they can't consistently be that person all of the time.

Accepting my plurality has saved my life. I love myself now, all of my parts, as they are. It's OK that they're extremely different from me. They're still real. And now I don't spend every day agonizing over why I don't have their skills and interests. I'm ok with being like this.

Sorry if this comes across as over sharing because that is not my intention. I just hoped to illustrate why reconceptualizing yourself as plural can be helpful, and change your whole perspective, and allow you to be more forgiving and kind to yourself. I can't possibly hate the amazing friends I share a brain with, and they don't hate me, how could I hate myself in these conditions after all? I hope this does the same for you. If you do find that you have different parts or personalities there is no shame in letting them fully indulge in what they like and in what they are good at. Don't hold yourself back from being you to the fullest extent just because it doesn't align with your other parts. You will be way happier if you can recognize who you are and then listen to what that part of you wants.

love this and vibe with it heavily. i’ve embraced being a contradictory person but i think actually pinning down the patterns to those contradictions is going to help me out immensely. sounds like that’s what’s worked for you pretty much. glad you’ve gotten something out of my posting, genuinely

[femdemon]

While I'm posting about my experiences with transandrophobia, I feel like people are weird about headcanoning characters as transmasc specifically. Like, obviously, there's your regular old gender and sex based bigotry a lot of the time about headcanoning any character as being anything other than strictly cis, perisex, and gender conforming, but people who allege to be progressive and open-minded get really weird and hostile about transmasc folks specifically seeing ourselves in fictional characters.

Like, okay. I've seen people say, "If you're only headcanoning overtly feminine characters as transmasc and overtly masculine characters as transfem, and you yourself are cis or whatever, maybe you should ask yourself why and whether or not you might have some internalized binarism you need to work on." And this is true, and good to point out! But then I've seen other people take this very good and true message and do some medicalism, gender essentialist bullshit to it like, "Yeah! Stop headcanoning feminine characters as transmasc altogether! Especially if you're a gender non-conforming transmasc person who heavily relates to the character in question and see a lot of yourself in said character. Don't you wanna be taken seriously by Normal People? Don't you wanna be seen as a Real Man? You can't headcanon this character as transmasc, then. Obviously, they're a trans woman, actually, like it's practically canon. In fact, you're Committing An Erasure if you headcanon this character as any gender other than a trans woman, and this is a crime that can never be forgiven and must be punished with Shunning until you admit that you're wrong."

And, like, I'm not saying that this never happens with other headcanons, I've absolutely seen it happen with other queer identities, I just see it a lot with respect to my own gender and I feel like it's bizarrely frequent. Why exactly are people so threatened by even just the idea that a character could be interpreted as transmasc? Why do people get this heated about basically any fiction or insist that it has something to do with representation when it was never canon to begin with? Some random person online who definitely isn't the author isn't in control of the story or characters, and it does nothing to the canon for them to have an opinion or idea about it that you don't like. I know that not everybody has gotten the "fandom isn't activism" memo yet, but even still, it just strikes me as really strange to sort of gatekeep who's allowed to relate to certain characters, or even just imagine them in ways that are different from fanon.

It kind of feels a lot like that thing people do where they're like, "Oh, the aces and aros want some characters they can see themselves in, we'll just give them the aliens and robots (never humans) and such, that should be enough." And then when we're like, "Okay, yeah, I can definitely see a lot of myself in this beloved robot character," suddenly it's all, "Nooo, beloved robot character couldn't possibly be aspec! You buffoon!!! How dare you!!!" It's like, even when we do get "permission" to have headcanons and characters we see ourselves in, we still don't really have it. And then I wonder why I'm always so drawn to inconsequential background characters who contribute nothing to the plot - I've totally been conditioned into it because liking and relating to the main cast is forbidden, I guess.

I know this is a very niche, small problem in the grand scheme of things, but it bums me out. Especially since a lot of this is coming from people who consider themselves allies and stuff, and we already face so much backlash just for daring to suggest that we have unique struggles. Not even when we're having fun storytime with our fan fiction do we get a break.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

jmart dads ramble

Okay I'm doing that Thing where my brain isn't ready to resolve my hyper fixated scramble into a coherent fic yet but I'm also inherently impatient so I just spew a rough outline onto a post. Huge thanks to @minky-for-short because a lot of this is her thoughts too

Putting under a cut for length and mentions of trans male pregnancy

So first off, trans John. He transitioned while he was in university and meeting other queer people for the first time and realising why he's Like This. He is asexual but is sex positive, though he really hasn't ever been in the right head space to sort through his sexuality and gender presentation.

And even though this is a normal, safe au, both him and Martin still have a lot of Issues. John has just had a schizophrenia diagnosis following a manic episode that landed him in the hospital (a mirror to his post Unknowing coma) and Martin has been in a deep depression after his mother's death. They're both trying to cope and trying to help each other and slowly growing closer as they do.

Eventually John has to realise he's attracted to Martin and this sends him into a bit of a panic. Firstly, he's his boss but, more than that, he doesn't think he's deserving of a relationship with someone like Martin. He's so kind and honest and needs love so badly, John just doesn't think he's the person Martin needs, even if he has a sneaking suspicion he's who Martin wants. He needs a guy thats not so messed up and angry all the time and he can actually build a life with, he's taken enough from Martin already.

And it comes to a head at Tim and Sasha's wedding. John has a little too much wine and realises, right, he and Martin need to just burn through these biological needs, clear the air and then he can move on and find something real, something that isn't this hopeless crush on John. So they sneak off to his hotel room and have sex and, damn it, it's actually really good.

But when they wake up the next morning, John feels a rush of guilt and tells Martin that he can move on now, he can cut himself free of whatever attachment he had to John. Martin, of course, takes this as a rejection and is heartbroken, though he hides it. He promises John they won't ever mention it again. They keep going with their work, leaving a new, sad distance between them.

Until of course John is throwing up in the Archives bathrooms every morning.

And of course Tim walks in on him when he's starting numbly at pregnancy test he just took and it's two lines, startling him too much to hide it in time. Tim is struggling not to freak out, he knew he saw you two sneaking off at the reception! But he softens a lot when he sees John's panic and hears him groaning that he's ruined Martin's life while he was just trying to keep him safe.

He promises John that he hasn't ruined anything, that Martin's clearly in love with him and, if he chooses to keep this baby, of course he'll want to do it with you. For a clever man, it's strange how you're so freaking dense sometimes. John just grumbles that it isn't exactly his main area of study...but you're right. Whether he's going to have this baby or not, Martin needs to know, even if he's scared.

Martin is so sure he's about to be told off when he's called into John's office and told to lock the door. It's a long, long time before he can speak after John tells him he's pregnant, enough that John is a little afraid he's broken his brain? But when he can speak, all he does is ask John if he's okay. Receiving kindness, after he was so scared and everything he's been through that morning, actually has John tearing up and suddenly he's in Martin's arms and he's holding on so tight and he never wants to let go.

He tells Martin he still doesn't think he's worthy of him. But Martin just chuckles and says well, he's kind of a stubborn git, if you haven't noticed, and you're who he wants so they're just going to have to learn to live with it. He loves you and, whatever you want to do, he'll be by your side.

It takes a while for him to make a decision but ultimately, John decides he will have this baby. And Martin is such a supportive partner to him, he's so excited to be a dad, he learns to knit things for the baby, he goes with John to every appointment, he plans everything out so John's little apartment is ready for their family. Their friends are happy for them too, Tim jokes that they already got them a wedding present, they didn't need to get them a niece or nephew too? And he's so smug about knowing before everyone else.

Their baby girl is very nearly born in the Archives because of course John works right up until his waters break in the middle of a statement (and finishes the statement before calling Martin in) and is still writing down instructions for Sasha, his replacement, as Martin drags him out to go to the hospital. It takes a while, Martin sends their group chat updates and a picture of John still watching their usual Monday night quiz shows on his laptop while in labor- and still roundly beating him. But eventually little Gertrude Sims is born. The name just stuck with John ever since he took his position at the archives, he likes the sound of it.

Okay I have a lot more head canons of them actually being parents but this is getting long enough so any requests and asks welcome!

[t1oui]

tedoire headcanons based on what i remember from my notes at 12 am

they're 2 years apart, teddy's in hufflepuff and victoire is in ravenclaw

they get together in victoire's seventh year, teddy comes to surprise her in hogsmeade and when she asks him why he's disturbing her weekend he kisses her (she sort of guessed he was going to)

victoire is almost always the big spoon

they share all their clothes

teddy can't sleep if victoire isn't draped over him somehow, like she has to have a leg around him at LEAST

vic knows teddy best other than andromeda and harry

he definitely has anger issues and vic is one of the people who's best at calming him down

victoire is the nail stylist of half the wotter clan and teddy is no exception

they're definitely best friends first, being a couple later, which is why so many people think they're off-and-on. they just don't really act any differently after they get together

victoire knows what she wants, and she GETS what she wants. even if she didn't start dating teddy until she was seventeen, she knew she was going to date him someday.

(vic fell first, teddy fell harder, except they're both super in love with each other)

they're the prettiest couple tbh

naps on the couch where victoire is laying there looking like sleeping beauty and teddy looks like a fucked up contortionist

vic's the scary one actually... even james, who's scared of teddy when he's mad, thinks victoire is more intimidating

if victoire clocks someone flirting with teddy she is suddenly draping herself over him and teddy's oblivious ass gets so confused... he's like ok sure but why now in front of the nice guy getting us coffee??

and vic's like dw babe there's a reason you're not in ravenclaw

teddy was head boy, vic was head girl

victoire doesn't like people being jealous of her unless they're jealous that she's dating teddy. she wants people to be jealous like that.

victoire does teddy's makeup

no way these two are a cishet couple... teddy is transmasc and pan and victoire is bi and demisexual

victoire becomes a cursebreaker like bill, teddy becomes an auror (though i think he would probably quit after a few years and find something close to where vic works)

teddy is 100% a stay at home dad when they have kids

ik a lot of people hc them as having kids young but i feel like teddy would want that and victoire would want to wait a bit longer

victoire is constantly sucking up to andromeda and andromeda knows but she doesn't care bc she loves vic

meanwhile bill is skeptical of teddy but fleur loves him

fleur is trans btw. fleur is trans and teddy becomes her #1 fan when he finds out (this is something they bond over)

skater boy x roller blade girl (teddy's terrible at rollerblading but vic is better than him at skateboarding)

teddy makes victoire teach him french when they're little and they keep practicing as they get older (merlin knows teddy needs it)

(after they start dating teddy says it'll come in handy when he meets fleur's family, he doesn't realize victoire's been thinking this since she was 9 and first started teaching him)

teddy's year is super small since he was born during the height of the war, and victoire made sure she met every single person to see if they were a threat to her future plans with teddy

gonna end this here but might do part 2 bc i love this ship sm

[nikoisme]

Okay so I rewatched Nimona again and I need to rant about a few things:

1.

This shot absolutely broke me. Imagine seeing a whole kingdom, something so grand and complex - built on the hate for you. Every single thing built on hate (watch the names of buildings, like Vanquisher Square and Slayer Aide). When Nimona (in her shadow form) is moving through the kingdom, you see her stumble on and then watch the Kwispy ad. The kids are saying "I killed a monster! I killed two!". Pair this up with Nimona's "Kids. Little kids. They grow up believing that they can be heroes if they drive a sword into the heart of anything different." Imagine hearing cheerful, happy ads with children - but they talk about how they will kill you. Little kids - the ones who are pure and innocent - are taught to hate you.

2. Gloreth. During Nimona's backstory scene, you can see that Gloreth always looks back before she makes any decision (before letting her hair down, before walking up to Nimona after seeing she's a shapeshifter). And when the village goes against Nimona, you can see that Gloreth is constantly looking at her parents, especially when they tell her that Nimona is a monster. She always glances back. Like she can't decide for herself, can't think for herself. Quite symbolic for how hate is taught (like I talked about above). (Also her name is literally Glory plus that -(e)th that was used in English in the past).

3. Ballister and Ambrosius' roles are quite symbolic. (For Nimona) Ballister represents your loved ones, family parents and their relationship with you. Ambrosius represents society, the government. That scene where Ballister presents Nimona the scroll is such an on point scene about your loved ones finding about the fact you're different (trans in this case). Just watch the dialogue closely. It was one of the last straws for Nimona - the pain of having the only person who cares about you suddenly turn on you. And then she goes into her shadow form - to end her life. And when Ballister sees Nimona he says "What have I done?". Represents the realization of parents about how much their words and actions actually mean.

Nimona tells Ambrosius "Come on, man. Do the right thing." Asking society to do the right thing by not hating and discriminating anyone who's different. Ambrosius says "What are we doing?". The realization of how damaging the hate of society is to an individual.

Ambrosius' design is light, while Ballister's is dark. Ambrosius is the pinnacle and peak of society's expectations (descendant of Gloreth). Ballister is the pure opposite, everything that breaks tradition and society's expectations.

And Ballister and Ambrosius' relationship is also interesting. You can see their motives when they act - Ballister acts out of feelings, morals and love. Ambrosius acts by law, tradition but also love. And their love might represent that society and every individual person can work and live together for the better.

4. Nimona's symbolism of shadow and light. When Nimona shifts, she does so in a form of light. She is a being of pure light. Her heart is made out of light. She often shifts to a child, someone innocent and pure. But her "monster" form is pure shadow. And she goes to pierce her heart of light through the sword. Represents that all the hate got to her - one can take so much hate before it gets to them, before it shapes them. Nimona pretty much acts cool about her shape-shifting: she spray-paints the dude who calls her a freak, unplugs the kid's toy about destroying monsters (destroying her), jokes about it etc. But it must have piled up over the course of 1000 years. And by destroying her heart, the only remaining source of light, she takes away the hope and love she had left. When she sacrifices herself, her remainings are little sparks of light. And in the end, when Ballister goes to their lair, it's a shadowy place. But he opens the windows, turns on lanterns - letting light pour in. Because Nimona was a person full of light, love and hope.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Spaghetti and Specters

Spike is going to his girlfriend's house for dinner to meet her family for the first time, and Man does he regret not doing any research on them beforehand. Now he has to fight for his damn life over a plate of what is honestly kind of mediocre spaghetti.

For @darthfrodophantom's prompt: Jazz brings a date home for the first time. She didn’t exactly brief them on her family’s whole ghost thing. Antics ensue.

Read on AO3

[Warnings for anxiety and overthinking spirals, mentions of abusive parents (not the Fentons)]

"You're sure about this?" he asked. "Parents don't typically like me."

He was standing on the front porch of his girlfriend's house. The sun had just gone down, and it wasn't quite dark yet, but it was starting to get cold, and it made him wish he'd brought a jacket, aesthetic be damned.

"My parents are not your parents, Spike," Jazz insisted, straightening his leather vest and fishnet sleeves, and he relished the warmth of her hands as she did so. "My younger brother has a goth friend who comes over all the time, and they've never had a problem with her. They're not the types who judge based on appearances. They may be... apprehensive, but they'll at least give you the chance to prove whether your respectable or not before they give you the shovel talk."

"Oh, joy."

His sarcasm was something his parents had tried to shame out of him for a long time, but Jazz never did. She said that it was just a coping mechanism, and a pretty common one at that. The worst she would ever do was roll her eyes like she did now.

"Come on, Spike, they're giving you a chance," she said. "The least you can do is extend them the same courtesy."

"And what about the non-binary thing? Have you told them yet?"

"My brother's trans, too, I think I've told you that before. If they hold that against you, then there are gonna be much bigger problems at this dinner than whether they like you or not," she responded, amusement lacing her tone. "I know you're anxious, and that's understandable. If you really don't want to do this, I won't force you, but you're stronger than your fear."

"You definitely want me to meet your parents?"

She shrugged and nodded. "I won't force you to, but yes, I do."

"Then I'll do it," he said. "For you."

She smiled that pearly smile of hers, the one where you could actually see that she'd never forgotten to brush her teeth in her life, and she pushed up on tip-toe to give him a kiss on the cheek. Spike was actually shorter than her, when he took his shoes off, but his platform goth boots alleviated his dysphoria over his height, and they looked damn good doing it. He liked when she stood on tip-toe to kiss him, loved the feeling of tilting his head down and wrapping his arms around her warm body and pulling her flush against him like she belonged there.

He didn't do that now, because they were standing on her front porch, illuminated by the bright neon sign overhead, and all the neighbors could see. But a kiss on the cheek was nice too.

He took a deep breath and smiled at her. His smile was small and dull, barely a twitch of the lips, and nothing like hers, dazzling, and full-toothed. She said she liked it anyway. She said it suited him. And he always believed what Jazz told him, because she was the most brilliant person he knew, and she'd never ever wrong.

"I'm ready," he said.

Jazz pushed open the door and walked in, and he followed a few steps behind her, his steps feeling mechanical and his shoulders tensed. At first glance, the inside appeared to be a perfectly normal home. On closer inspection, however, there were a few things that didn't quite fit. The vacuum cleaner in the corner looked weirdly high tech, and there was a magazine called Ectoscience Quarterly on the coffee table. The air also smell faintly of ozone and something else Spike couldn't place, something sour. Citrus maybe? No... he didn't think that was right.

Standing there, in the living room, Spike became suddenly and acutely aware that Jazz never talked about her parents. She talked about herself, and her dreams, and stories from her past; she would bring up her brother in passing from time to time, and although Spike never learned very much about him at one time, she'd mentioned him enough now that Spike had begun to form a mental image of the freshman in his mind; but she never talked about her parents.

Spike talked about his parents all the time, since Jazz was usually willing to let him vent to her, though he always asked first, just in case. He liked having someone to talk to that he trusted, and he trusted Jazz more than anyone else. She said that his family was manipulative, controlling, and emotionally abusive, and he'd never once argued with her, because they were. Jazz was always right, after all. The second he turned eighteen, he was going to move out, one way or another, and she had an open invitation to join him, although she hadn't accepted it. At least... not yet.

The most Jazz had ever said about her parents was something along the lines of, "and my parents, ugh, they're certainly not making it any easier."

That, she said kind of a lot. He'd asked before if she wanted to vent, but she always shook her head and told him she'd rather focus on other things instead of dwelling on her frustration. Her parents, apparently, frustrated her a lot, though he knew she loved them anyway. He hoped that meant that she could love him anyway, too, even when he frustrated her.

Still, that wasn't to say he knew nothing about her parents, just... almost nothing. He'd heard the Fenton name thrown around enough, at school, and by adults around town, that he'd at least gathered they were somewhat infamous, though he didn't know why. Spike was never one for eavesdropping, or gossip, and his hearing wasn't the best anyway, so he was always out of the loop on the local hot topics—except for the stores.

The Fenton Works sign on their house seemed to indicate that they owned some kind of business, although doing what, he didn't know. Maybe some kind of technology or repair shop? Although most of the business must've been online or their ground floor would be more commercial.

Come to think of it, he had seen them once before, at the beginning of the school year—months before he and Jazz had started dating, back when he was just the classmate who helped her with her psych homework. If he recalled correctly, they'd captured Jazz in a net for some reason and carried her away. Whatever that had been about, he had not wanted to get involved, especially since he honestly barely knew her back then, so he'd just left.

Now that he was in their house, surrounded by that weird, increasingly acrid smell, he was wishing he'd done a little more research before agreeing to come over for dinner.

"They're probably in the kitchen," Jazz said.

He continued to follow her through a doorway, and into what looked, on the surface, to be an ordinary kitchen. Counters, cupboards, tile floors, all perfectly ordinary. There was a decent-sized, round table in the center of the room with five mismatched place-settings, and as many mismatched chairs. There was a homey feel to it. Though it was a little cramped, and eclectic, it still felt much more welcoming than his own dining room ever did, always with a spotless tablecloth and matched sets of dishes and silverware.

But Spike also noticed suspicious green stains on the table's surface that didn't look like they could have come from any food he knew of. Just like the vacuum cleaner, all their kitchen appliances also looked like they'd be more at home on the set of a sci-fi movie than in an urban apartment. Again, he wished he'd tried to learn more before just showing up here.

There was a red-haired woman in a teal jumpsuit standing over the stove, humming pleasantly, and Jazz groaned when she saw her.

"Mom, I thought I asked you to dress normally when Spike came over!"

"But honey, this is how I normally dress," Jazz's mom replied, turning. "And you must be Spike. My, that's a nice vest! Jazz has told us a lot of nice things about you."

"Uh, yeah, that's me, and thank you," Spike said awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Fenton."

"Oh you can just call me Maddie," she said. "And it's wonderful to meet you too. My husband's downstairs in the lab, but he'll be up for dinner, you can count on that."

She chuckled like that was supposed to be funny and Spike let out a weak, uncertain laugh so she didn't think her joke fell flat, even though he didn't understand it.

"You can go ahead and have a seat wherever you like," she told him. "Jazz, would you mind letting Danny know that dinner's almost ready? He's up in his room."

"Sure, Mom."

Jazz left the room without a second thought, and Spike was left with the utterly horrifying decision of whether to sit down at the table, risk taking someone else's usual seat and disrupting the family's usual dinner dynamic, as well as condemning himself to spending time alone with his girlfriend's mom; or backing out to find a seat in the living room, and giving Mrs. Fenton the impression that he was the kind of rude, anti-social person who would just leave her there to cook without any company or conversation.

Oh no, he realized.

He'd been standing there too long to leave. If he'd wanted to wait in the living room, he should have left the kitchen at the same time Jazz did. There was no backing out now. Now his only option was to sit at the table before he gave her the impression that he was an indecisive wuss by standing there too long. But which seat? Should he go with the one that looked the least worn? They all looked pretty worn, but maybe that was just because the seats didn't stay in the same position.

Just sit down anywhere! urged Spike's panicked thoughts. Your mere presence at the table is going to disrupt the dinner dynamic. Sit down now before she thinks your some kind of weirdo!

He reached out mechanically to pull out the chair closest to him and take a seat. Mission success. God, this was why Jazz said he probably had anxiety disorder. He was really trying to stop overthinking things so much, but this situation just made that tendency flare up like it usually only did around his own parents.

"Sorry none of the tableware matches," Mrs. Fenton said, though she was still standing over the pot, and not looking at him. "Jack and Danny are both a bit clumsy, so dishes tend to get broken a lot by mistake around here, chairs too, if you can believe it." She laughed.

When Spike smiled, he tried to make it bigger than usual, stretching his lips a little wider so she wouldn't mistake that he was smiling. It probably just looked creepy. He should stop. Should he stop? He should say something.

"I don't mind," he said. "It makes this place feel lived-in—like a home, I mean. I just think there's something kind of... uh... aloof about everything being a perfect matched set."

"You know, I like that," Mrs. Fenton said. "That's a very interesting point of view. Certainly makes me feel better about it." She laughed again. She was a cheerful woman, that or she just happened to be in a very good mood today.

"I must say, you seem like a nice boy," she said after a moment. "Jazz's last boyfriend was a punk. Very disrespectful and reckless. I don't know what she saw in him."

"I'm actually not..." Spike trailed off, unsure if he should even say anything. Jazz said her parents wouldn't mind, but he was still hesitant to contradict her mom.

"Hm? Not what, dear?"

Oh, damn it, she was already calling him dear, he couldn't lie to her now. "I'm non-binary," he said, trying to keep his voice steady and not let it fall too quiet as he spoke. "I'm Jazz's partner, not her boyfriend."

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to assume," Mrs. Fenton said immediately, looking back at him sympathetically. "Would you prefer I use they/them pronouns for you?"

"I actually prefer he/him, but they/them is fine with me, too. Whichever's easier for you."

"If you prefer he, then I'll use that," she told him. "I know that's what Jazz uses, too. I guess that's why I assumed you were a boy, but that's my bad. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

The only thing stopping Spike from tearing up at a parental figure not only correcting themself when they misgendered him, but also apologizing for it, was the fact that he'd worked so hard on his eyeliner before coming here and didn't want to smudge it by crying.

"It's alright," he said, then cleared his throat to keep his voice from shaking. "It was an honest mistake."

Jazz reappeared in the doorway then, with her little brother right behind her. Spike had seen the kid around school. He kept the company of one of the only other goth kids at Casper High, which was probably the only reason Spike had ever noticed him. He hadn't made the connection that this was Jazz's brother, though.

"Spike, right?" the boy said. "Danny. Nice to meet you." Without waiting for a response, he turned to look at his mother. "What's for dinner?" he asked.

Spike had been wondering that, too. He couldn't tell from the smell because it was overpowered by that other strange scent he still had yet to identify. He could swear he'd smelled it before, but he just couldn't place it.

"Spaghetti, Cobb salad, and garlic bread, and yes, you have to eat some salad before you leave the table," his mother replied. A timer dinged and she turned off the stove burner and put on a pair of oven mitts that were on the counter. "Danny, would you let your father know dinner's ready?"

Danny walked across the kitchen and opened a door on the far wall. Behind it was a dark, sloped hallway and some stairs, probably down to a basement.

"Dad! Dinner!" Danny called down before closing the door and walking back to take a seat at the table.

Jazz, mercifully, hung her jacket on the back of the chair to Spike's right to claim that seat. Then she went to help her mother transfer the food onto serving dishes. While the two of them started to put the food on the table, the building started to shake.

Spike grabbed the table, surprised. Was this an earthquake?

The basement door burst open, and Spike's eyes blew wide as he saw a gigantic man enter the kitchen. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit and a beaming smile that was actually strikingly like Jazz's. This must have been her father. She could have warned him that the man was a friggin' giant.

"Did I hear something about dinner?" His voice boomed, though it didn't seem like he was trying to be loud, more like he was just naturally big and imposing in every way.

"Yes, Jack, now take a seat," Mrs. Fenton told him. "Jack, that's Spike, Jazz's partner. You remembered he was coming over today, right?"

"I did not," Mr. Fenton said plainly, taking the seat on Spike's left. "It's nice to meet you, son!"

"He's non-binary, Jack," Maddie corrected gently. "He probably doesn't want to be called son."

It was true that, from a gender standpoint, son was not Spike's favorite word, but with the amount of affection Mr. Fenton had said it with, he actually didn't mind.

"Whoops, my mistake!" Mr. Fenton said. "It's nice to meet you, kiddo!" he turned to his wife. "Is that better?"

Spike tried not to get too choked up. "Yeah, thanks," he said, wondering if the Fentons could just adopt him now, or if that would be too awkward, since he was dating their daughter.

Everything was put on the table, and Jazz and her mom sat down in the remaining seats, Jazz to Spike's right, and Mrs. Fenton to her husband's left. Then the serving dishes were passed around the table so everyone could scoop themselves some spaghetti and take a slice of garlic bread and some salad (not very much salad in Danny or Mr. Fenton's case).

This part of dinner had little talking, except to ask for the salt or garlic bread to be passed. But once everyone had food in front of them, the conversation—the scary part of dinner with your girlfriend's parents—began in earnest.

"So, Spike, was it?"

Spike nodded at Mr. Fenton's question.

"What's your opinion about ghosts?"

"Dad!" Jazz whined. "Do we have to talk about ghosts at the dinner table?"

"What? It's just a question!" Mr. Fenton defended. "What else am I going to ask about?"

Jazz leaned over to Spike and shook her head. "You can ignore that. Ghosts are not a topic of conversation we have to engage with."

"No, it's fine," Spike said.

He really didn't understand why she was acting like this. They lived in Amity Park, so ghosts were a pretty common topic of conversation. When they attacked the town almost every day, that did tend to make people talk about them.

"Alright," Jazz said, as though he'd just insisted on going skydiving without any training, rather than having a conversation about current events. "If you're sure."

"Uh... I guess I'm neutral about ghosts," Spike answered finally, suddenly very unconfident in his decision to engage. He had thought ghosts would be a relatively safe topic, but he was definitely second guessing himself now. Were the Fentons some kind of ghost fanatics? "I wish they'd stop attacking our school so much, because it's really disruptive, but other than that, I don't really care one way or another."

"Disruptive, huh?" Mrs. Fenton repeated. "Yes, I'd say that's a perfect word for what ghosts are."

"Yes, although, I'll say if they were attacking my school all the time, I wouldn't exactly be neutral," Mr. Fenton agreed. "I'd want them gone."

"You want them gone anyway," Danny pointed out, rolling his eyes as he poked at his spaghetti.

This was, evidently, not the first time they'd heard all this.

Spike leaned over to his girlfriend and whispered, "Did I miss something? What's your parents' deal about ghosts?"

She turned to look at him with wide-eyed shock on her face. "Oh no," she whispered back. "Don't tell me you somehow didn't know? Everyone knows."

"Know what?"

"My parents are ghost hunters," she told him under her breath. "I thought you would have seen them making fools of themselves all over town, I didn't think there was anyone in Amity Park who didn't know, or I would have warned you."

"Oh."

Oh.

So her parents were fanatics, and he'd just decided to play hopscotch in a minefield. Great. At least that explained the weird stains, magazine, and anachronistic technology. And the smell. Now that Spike knew, that acrid smell was unmistakably ectoplasm, and if they were ghost hunters, it was no wonder that smell got stronger the closer he was to the basement where Mrs. Fenton had said the lab was.

How are you gonna worm your way out of this one, Spike? he wondered to himself.

What were his options?

First, he could keep trying to hold a conversation about ghosts with two people who A) knew way way way more about ghosts than he did, B) were way more passionate about ghosts that he was, and C) appeared to be very intense in their opinions on ghosts and would no doubt try to make him feel the same way they did. That sounded awful, but as long as he let them lead the conversation he could probably come out of it without looking like a bad person or a bad partner for their daughter.

Another option was attempting to change the topic, but that would require coming up with a new topic to talk about, and depending on the depths of the Fentons ghost fixation, there was a solid chance they'd find a way to bring the conversation back around to ghosts anyway. If they did that, he'd have to come up with another new topic of conversation, and that loop could continue until the end of the night when he could finally leave. He wasn't sure how fast he would have to cycle through conversation topics, and his mind was already blanking trying to come up with just one.

His final option was to fake some kind of emergency and run, but that would almost certainly lower the Fentons opinion of him, so he would rather put that in his back pocket and use it only as a last resort.

In his silence while Spike considered the best course of action, the Fenton parents had continued talking about the danger ghosts represented for the town's schoolchildren, and how they should really be taking much more thorough precautions than just installing ecto-detector proximity alarms.

First and foremost, Spike's goal for this dinner was to get Jazz's parents to like him. No matter how much he dreaded it, he knew which of the options for conversation would put him in the best standing with them. He only hoped Jazz could forgive him.

"So, you guys are ghost hunters," Spike began. "Have you met a lot of ghosts, then? What would you say the most dangerous ghost you ever fought was?"

Jazz turned to him with betrayal written all over her face. He knew that she hated talking about ghosts, and she obviously hated listening to her parents talk about ghosts even more, but if he wanted to get in good with her family, sacrifices had to be made.

Immediately, Mr and Mrs. Fenton started debating who the most powerful ghost they'd ever fought was. Mrs. Fenton said that it was, without a doubt, some ghost called Pariah Dark, although Mr. Fenton argued that they hadn't so much fought Pariah Dark as held him off. He seemed to be of the opinion that the most dangerous ghost they'd ever fought was Danny Phantom, who had—according to rumors, anyway—been the one who actually beat Pariah Dark.

Beneath the din, Spike leaned over to whisper an apology to his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, I just really want them to like me, please don't be mad."

Jazz's look of betrayal twisted into a conspiratorial smile. "You sly bastard," she said fondly. "That's actually pretty clever."

"Danny Phantom never pulled the entire city into the Ghost Zone," Mrs. Fenton reminded pointedly.

"Just because he hasn't doesn't mean he couldn't!" Mr. Fenton argued.

That went on for a while until Danny huffed in annoyance and decided to put an end to it.

"Why don't you just tell him about both ghosts?" he suggested.

Spike wished that Danny had specified not to do so simultaneously, because what he got was a double-barrelled lecture on the most dangerous ghosts they'd ever talked. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fenton trying to talk over each other, neither of them pausing to let the other be heard, getting progressively louder and louder, even though Spike had poor audio processing abilities and didn't register a single word they were saying.

Finally, their explanations came to an end, and Spike nodded and tried to look impressed, even though he had absolutely no idea what either of them had said about either ghost.

"Wow," he said, it seemed like a safe response. "Sounds like you guys have had a lot of... uh... intense ghost fights?" he glanced at Jazz, who nodded encouragingly. "I bet there were some easy ones, too, though. Who's the weakest ghost you ever fought.

"Oh, the Box Ghost," both Fenton Parents, and, surprisingly, Danny, said simultaneously.

Spike had been hoping that question would carry the conversation a little longer, but he should have known better. Even he knew who the Box Ghost was, a total joke that didn't present a legitimate threat to anyone.

"Of course, I should have known," he said.

"You kinda should have," Jazz teased.

"Okay, well... how do you... I mean... what do you do with the ghosts, after you fight them?" Spike asked. Maybe that question would keep them talking longer than the last.

"We capture them, of course," Mr. Fenton said, which didn't bode well for Spike's time consuming endeavors.

"Then what?"

"We take them to the lab for study," Mrs. Fenton said.

"How do you do that?" That was it. If Spike could just keep asking follow up questions he could make it to the end of the night.

Mrs. Fenton began to describe her scientific process. It was kind of gross, but a little bit interesting. She finished with, "Unfortunately, I don't get to actually do that very often. Somehow the ghosts we capture end up escaping through the Fenton Portal. We keep increasing and overhauling the security systems in our containment chambers, but there must be some flaw we haven't found yet."

"At least they're escaping to the Ghost Zone and not into town to cause more trouble," Danny pointed out.

"I suppose that's true," Mrs. Fenton agreed. "It could be worse."

Eventually, everyone finished eating, and dinner did end. Mrs. Fenton invited Spike to stay for fudge. He said no, since it was getting very late and he didn't want to miss his curfew, but agreed to take a little box of fudge with him when she pressed. He didn't want to make her think he didn't like her cooking—although when he ate a piece at home later, he was sure that her fudge was way better than her spaghetti had been.

Jazz walked him out so they could say goodbye.

"You played them like a fiddle," Jazz said, beaming with pride. "I think they love you more than me after that dinner." She laughed. "And you were worried you'd mess everything up."

"Oh yeah, I was worried the whole time," he agreed. "But you were right. Everything went fine. You're always right."

"And don't you forget it," she said.

Spike leaned down to give her a quick goodbye kiss, taking her hands into his own.

"Thanks for having me over," he said. "Your parents are good people, even if they are obsessed with ghosts."

"I told you."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffed a quiet laugh of his own. "You always do."

"See you at school tomorrow," she said. "I love you."

"Yeah, I love you, too." Then he let her hands slip out of his and walked down the steps, waving goodbye.

He was not looking forward to returning to his own empty, aloof home, and his own cold, judgemental parents. One more year. Less than a year. Ten months, three weeks, and two days. Then he would be eighteen, and he could leave that awful house and live alone—or with Jazz, if she agreed. He didn't expect her to, but he could hope.

[magicrainbowkitties]

I might be biased because I'm transmasc and it's somewhat The Goal for me to "look like a man," but it's high time we put a stop to "you look like a man" as an insult towards women. Not just trans women, but cis women too. Most often I hear/see it used by women against other women, usually some gender crit weirdos with an unhealthy obsession with other people's genitalia, and I find it imperative that we wrest any and all power away from such creepy, horrible people. And so, here's my dissection of the phrase.

First of all, masculine-presenting women exist. Some are so masc-presenting that they do in fact get gendered as men in everyday speech, to dismay or pleasure depending on the woman you're dealing with. But. What exactly does spitting "you look like a man" at her do? Congratulations, you have eyes and understand that this woman is gender-nonconforming. What now, asshole? All you've done is either state the obvious or said some bullshit she's heard a billion times before.

Second, some women are simply born with features we collectively decided are "masculine" traits. I know plenty of tall, muscular cis women. I've met cis women with facial hair, with big hands, with broad shoulders. How in the fuck do these features and more suddenly disqualify them from womanhood? And to tell such a woman she "looks like a man" is to join in a chorus of bullying she's been experiencing for a long fuckin time (and in many cases, since she was a child) over something she literally has no control over. But it wouldn't help if she just "decided" to be a man, would it, because now they don't know what they want and need to learn to "accept her womanhood," even though you never did when they said they were.

But this leans into my third point, which gets at the core of the problem:

Why is "looking like a man" a bad thing?

Outside of trans people and misgendering, I mean. Because that's just a weapon for getting at a specific aspect of that type of womanhood. However, when it's said to a trans woman, or a cis woman with traditionally masculine traits, it's usually "you ARE a man." Not "you LOOK LIKE a man."

And the only conclusion I can draw, from both my experience and others, is that this is just a long, drawn out way to call people ugly. Because often in these terfy circles, you will find some of the most vile, disgusting things said about men and their bodies. I mean... They get gross about trans women, sure, but remember... They think trans women ARE men. Monster creepy men with horrible delusions, sure, but still men. And then they discuss cis men as if they're all either sex pests, monsters, or weak-willed idiots with no place in the world.

Now I will not discount the fact that many gender crits/terfs are recruited after severe trauma of several stripes inflicted by men, and that men are encouraged in our society to treat women as objects and tools rather than thinking people with their own needs and feelings, thus causing a feedback loop of neglect and abuse that leaves everyone miserable. Not to mention, most people saying shit like "not all men" when you're talking about women's issues probably don't actually care, they just want you to stop talking.

All of this is true. HOWEVER. It comes to a point where you stop criticizing specific men for their behavior, or society at large for making men that do awful things, and you start mocking men for their appearances, disabilities, weight, body parts, ect. That's just not ok.

To anyone who's been told you "look like a man" to make you feel small and horrible:

You are not ugly. Features that society has decided are grossly masculine are not ugly. Being a feminine person with masculine features does not mean you have failed to perform femininity.

You are gorgeous.

And don't let someone that believes looking like a man is the worst thing one could possibly do tell you otherwise.

[agaricgarlic]

Trans people are not holding back the LGBT+ community

LGB or LGB ✂️ T (sometimes LG) individuals are convinced that Trans individuals are the reason cishets aren't welcoming queer people with open arms, so I'm just going to go over a few points.

1) "Trans people shouldn't even be apart of the LGB community. Its not a sexuality."

Trans people and gay people have always been grouped together because cishets have a track record of grouping non conforming people together into groups. Not to mention the rights you appreciate and are claiming Trans people are ripping away from you are LARGELY due to the role Trans and GNC played in fighting for LGBT+ rights. People use any excuse to support their hate. When gay marriage was first being legalized hets were claiming that it would lead to animal and child marriage. That's what they equated gay marriage to, something vile and abusive. Obviously it didn't but people will use the excuse of "weird trans people" as an excuse to be bigoted towards other parts of the LGBT+.

2) "Trans people are holding us back. Just be normal."

Trans people are lacking in rights because of homophobia (and literal feminine/masculine black/white thinking amongst other things ofc). A quick look into Transvestigator territory will explain what I mean. Something these people will constantly claim is that "every celebrity is trans and is thereby being used to make everyone gay." The reason why this is a problem is because being gay = bad.

For a straight man to be attracted to Megan Fox (a victim of Transvestigators) that man would suddenly be gay. When these people realize that sexuality is not just genitals (because we aren't just floating privates) they tend to get uncomfortable with the possibility of their orientation getting called into question. Cishet men that are violent towards trans women are a great example of this. Their fear? That they'd be called or would actually be considered gay for being with or attracted to a trans woman, sometimes tragically ending in violence so that this Cishet man is no longer under the "weak" and "emasculating" term 'gay.'

3) "They just don't want it pushed down their throats!"

Oh, like how having a lesbian in toy story was pushing it down their throats and indoctrinating their children to be gay? Like how having a gay couple in a commercial is pushing it down their throats? Like how PRIDE is pushing it down their throats? To these homophobes not being closeted is "pushing it down their throats."

The same arguments that these people are using have been or constantly are being used against them. The term "I don't care what you do in your bedroom" is Hets telling queer people that showing a gay couple showing affection outside of their bedroom is inappropriate and sexual, not just a form of endearment. Basically, being gay is a kink. In fact, since these people view being gay as a kink and not just a same gendered couple doing practically everything a straight couple does (spoiler alert they're almost identical) they find the term 'gay child" to be grooming and inappropriate. Same as "trans child" is grooming and inappropriate because they view being trans or talking about trans issues as a way to yap about genitals all day long.

4) "No one should be forced to be attracted to trans people!"

You're right, and no one (except a few chronically online individuals) believe that anyone should be forced to be something they're not. Whether that's forcing someone to be cis, straight, or attracted to a trans person.

Trans people are hyper aware of what they look like and a lot of trans people are uncomfortable being in binary spaces Pre-HRT or even Mid HRT/transitioning because they know they may not visually match the target demographic and may cause confusion. Trans people constantly put their own comfort aside for cis people. Not many "non passing" trans people are rushing onto gay dating apps to force gay ppl to be attracted to them. However plenty of trans people have gay partners that love and are attracted to them or interested in hooking up with them even if you aren't.

Also trans people arent unloveable and unwelcome in binary spaces. In fact it will always make more sense for a trans person to be placed in the spaces their gender aligns with to avoid confusion. A gay trans man that goes to a "straight blind dating party" and places himself in women's section would cause confusion and discomfort for his Cishet straight guy partner sitting across from him. The truth is that a person that's attracted to a man will be much more likely to be attracted to a trans man. A straight man probably won't be into someone that isn't feminine, has a bunch of secondary male characteristics, has a lot of facial hair, and reads as male regardless of what assumed genitals the trans man has(if that trans man even WANTS to use those parts sexually). And no not every trans person is a gay persons type but plenty of gay men are attracted to trans men and plenty of lesbians are attracted to women. And attraction isn't the standard to be RESPECTED.

Okay I'm all done.

I only did minimum proof reading and this is kinda a rant post so it's not perfect but I think I got my point across. Also the LGB(LG) community it a small but loud minority. You're more likely to be accepted by a gay person than a Cishet person if you're trans and vice versa. The LGBT community is the ones that will have your back in the end and fight for your rights.

[plurapony]

hihi!! we wanted to go anonymous due to fear of being hated or whatever. We are NOT endogenic whatsoever, nor do we support that, but we have started using plural terms ever since 2020. We have trauma, packed full of it, but we are not sure if we are even a system. We didn’t know who to yap to, but Tag liked your blog, so..

No, we are not technically a confirmed system

no, we will NEVER, EVER claim to be a system before ruling out other things. But we are seriously lost here.

I remember when I would randomly start using “we/us” when talking about myself then suddenly going back to “I/me”. Thought it was just an error in my speech. Until my friends started complaining about me acting “out of character”. I remember being in places I don’t remember actively going to, having knowledge in a subject I never actually learned, having sudden out-of-body experiences and memory loss. not to mention when people tell me i was breaking out into pinkie pie’s dialogue or suddenly act like a scared puppy when i have no memory of doing so. i could just be crazy, but I need someone to tell me that I’m not crazy at all. we dont know if ur comfy answering this!! u dont have to!!

you're definitely not crazy! the human brain is really weird and sometimes it does weird stuff like the things you mentioned. it could be an indication of a cdd but also it could be something else or it could be nothing.

i wanna share how it was for me before we realized we were a system! we would sometimes use we/us and it would be confusing, we'd wake up in the morning and have absolutely no clue who we were or where we were. we'd be hanging with friends we'd known for years and suddenly we couldn't remember their names, sometimes we couldn't even remember our own name. we are a very overt system so we'd speak in different tones and frequencies and type differently from each other. our host at the time was a trans boy and sometimes he'd feel extreme urges to wear pink and girly clothes so much so that he would spend a considerable amount of time on shopping sites browsing through them. one thing we'd do very often was mid conversation someone would mention something which would trigger another part temporarily and then we'd have zero memory of the last 5 seconds of the conversation and have to be reminded by the person we were conversing with.

it's so important to go see a medical professional because they are here to help you figure out what's happening and get to the bottom of things.

what I recommend in the meantime is to get a journal and just doodle in it. lay out all your thoughts and feelings (would also be a good reference for seeing a doctor/therapist)

hope that helps!

[IMAGE ID: ponyville is a (pro) endo free zone break dni and get blocked loser! END ID]

[burgersnacksformax]

Intimacy with da scout <3

Notes:

nsfw but it doesnt get that far in

trans man reader w gender dysphoria that scout soothes

Transmasc scout, post top surgery

transmasc soldier

Referring to reader's chest mostly just as "chest" and "breast"

Scout touches reader's chest

biting but its gentle

Just two trans people being lovey and goofy <3

"I'm in love with you," you blurted.

You could feel Jeremy's lips on your neck curl into a smile, followed by his hot breath. "Just how many times do ya plan to tell me that tonight?" He moved to cup your cheeks in his palms. "I'm in love with you too, I, uh- I figured ya wouldn't be on my bed and on my lap lettin' me all be over you if ya weren't. And if I weren't."

He made your heart feel so warm, but your ability to form sentences was failing you. All you could do was stare at him, right at his cheeks tinted beautifully pink, at his dimples as he smiled, at the way he gazed right back at you..

Jeremy chuckled. "You're so handsome, you know that? I think I could stare at you all night long and I'd still be happy." He moved his hands to your hips, looking up at you like you were the only other person in the world. "Y'know, I- uh- I told my Ma a lot about you."

Your cheeks were rosy as you played with his hair. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her about how you ran into me in the middle of the night and thought I was a ghost."

"That was one time! One!"

He laughed softly, admiring how flustered you got. "Yeah, I know, I'm just messin' with ya, toots. What I actually told her was about how sweet you are, how funny you are.. Like, I ain't never met no one as sweet as you, what the hell?" He glanced to the side, smiling sheepishly. "And you're so smart too, you're talented, and-" he chuckled and looked at you again, "you also screamed and threw rock at me when you thought I was a gho-"

"Shut up!"

You both laughed, and everything about this made you feel so safe. Jeremy was holding you close, you were holding him. It was just you two in his room, the stresses of the day long forgotten. It was like just having him around made everything better.

He ran a hand up your shirt, trailing his fingers up your back slowly as he kissed your neck again. "Man, I just- I'm so glad I have you."

You put your hands on his shoulders. "Jer, look at me."

Jeremy silently followed through, his eyes widening but quickly relaxing when you pressed your lips against his. His hands rose farther up your back as he pressed your chests together, until you tensed.

You weren't wearing your binder.

He quickly noticed your reaction, pulling away a little to examine your features. "Everythin' alright, toots?"

"Yeah- well, no," you stammered, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt, "I'm not wearing my binder."

"Yeah, and?" He moved his hands to massage your hips. "That don't make ya any less of a man-" he pecked your lips, "my man." He paused. "But, uh, if you really don't-"

"Can I see your scars again?"

He looked at you dumbly. "The ones from the bread or the stairs?"

"The-" you chuckled, "wait, the what? I was gonna ask to see your top surgery scars."

"Oh! Yeah, alright!" He hooked his hands on the collar of his shirt, eagerly pulling it up over his head before puffing out his chest. "Y'know, Medic does some pretty good gender surgery."

You echoed him. "Gender surgery."

"Yeah, isn't that what it's called?"

You hummed an absentminded "mhm", running your thumbs against the healed scars.

"Hey."

You were still looking down at his chest, this time humming a "hmm?"

And next thing you knew, you felt a hand on your chin, and suddenly your eyes were fixed on Jeremy's.

"I, uh, I hope you ain't uncomfortable with your body when you're with me. I see the way you're lookin' at my scars, and I completely get that feeling, but-" he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, "we all see you as a man, got it? Me, and all the other mercs, just- you don't gotta worry about not being accepted here, alright?"

You couldn't tell if you were relieved or in disbelief. Unsure where to look, you buried your face in Jeremy's neck. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. And dude, remember that time Soldier just fucken- ripped his shirt off on a control point and yelled at the top of his lungs? Like, tits out and everything?"

You chuckled. "Yeah. Had no idea the guy was trans till he did that."

"Lucky." Jeremy sighed. "I found out when I had the misfortune of comin' across his stinky ass binder. Dude seriously just left it on the table. Like, the one we all eat at. It was fuckin gross." He paused, waving a hand around behind your head as if to clear away an invisible thought bubble. "Wait no, that ain't my point. My point is, y'know how many people misgendered Soldier? After the tits out and binder table incident?"

You shrugged, leaning back to look at him. "One or two?"

"Zero. Literally. So ya don't gotta be worried." He flashed you a smile. "These guys are real accepting. I mean, the lot of them are still assholes-" he chuckled, "but I like 'em. Wouldn't be surprised if more of them were queer too."

"..Jeremy?"

His fingers were drawing circles on your lower back. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too," he answered immediately, smiling warmly at you.

"I, uhm-" you paused for a moment to think. You knew you could trust him, but you were nervous. But you figured, might as well bite the bullet, and it wasn't like his opinion of you would change if you said it. You were always gonna be his man, you knew that. But-

"What's up?"

"Can you touch my chest?"

"What?"

"Like, under my shirt?"

Jeremy fell silent, but you could tell he was hiding his excitement. "You mean it?"

You looked down and to the side, as if his bedsheet was suddenly the most interesting thing on the planet. "Well, i mean like, take it slow. But I'm thinking, you're right. My body doesn't change how you think of me, so- well-" your eyes made your way back to his, "why should I be hiding it from you?"

He was grinning at you like a schoolboy. One hand on your hip, he ran his other hand slowly up your stomach. "I love you. I- uh- I'm-" he chuckled nervously, trying to catch your eye contact again, "I'm so glad you trust me like that."

And soon enough, his hand came in contact with your chest, and he watched your reaction. He watched as you seemed nervous, and nearly pulled away until you leaned into his touch.

"You okay?"

"Uh," you started, your voice soft, "I'll always be your man.. right?"

"Of course." He continued to caress your chest gently. "You're my boyfriend." He leaned forward to kiss your neck, using his thumb and forefinger to give your nipple some attention. "Ain't nothin' gonna change that. You'se my man." Another kiss. "And I'm yours."

You let out a sigh, both out of relief and also out of pleasure of the sensations he was giving you.

Jeremy noticed how you liked it, bringing his other hand up your shirt to massage your chest and sides. He spoke softly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine, as he asked, "can I see your body?"

You hesitated for a moment. "Okay, but, um-"

"I'm sure you look handsome as hell."

And you were swayed, quickly pulling your shirt up above your head and holding onto it nervously.

But all your boyfriend could do, apart from mumbling a specific type of "holy shit" usually only reserved for the few times he managed to outsmart Spy, was lean forward and kiss you. Not only on your lips. He kissed everywhere he saw. Like a puppy with separation anxiety who hadn't seen their owner in 10 minutes.

You chuckled. "Jeremy-"

"Mmh?" He hummed, not bothering to stop. His lips made their way from your cheek,

to kiss along your jawline,

to leave kisses and nibbles down your neck,

to running along your collarbone,

to biting lightly on your shoulder,

to kissing down your sternum,

and then finally, finally, on your chest. He kissed and nibbled along your skin, before licking at your nipple as if it were a sweet candy. He used his free hand to play with your other breast, giving you all the attention he could.

You squeaked in pleasure, melting under his touch as your heart raced. With how close Jeremy was to you, you were certain he could hear it - feel it.

"Mmh, baby," he whispered in your chest before locking eye contact with you, giving you a teasing look, "you enjoyin' yourself?"

Your eyes darted to the side for a moment, a mix of embarassment and trying to figure out what to say. You looked back at him, grinning sheepishly as you mustered only a mumbled, "yeah."

Jeremy smiled at you warmly, moving to rest his head on your shoulder and holding you close, pressing your bare chests together. "I love you-" he kissed your ear, "my man. My one and only."

Your shoulders relaxed a little, you having no recollection of when they tensed in the first place. "Your one and only?"

He leaned back to look at you, booping your nose with each word. "My. One. And. Only."