#It's almost as if trans people are people and can be terrible just as any other person can
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I'm not sure this is the right place to ask, but i get met with pure hostility in other transid blogs asking stuff like this, and this one seems friendly, so here I go.
I've heard plenty of bad stuff about transids, especially transrace and transabled, saying they're harmful and cause stigma, and also arguments about how ysing the trans label is harmful. I can kind of see both sides of the argument, so, are most transids not....well....insensitive, in a sense? Because alot seem to be. /nbr /genq
I’m first going to address the accusations that transids are harmful because they use the trans-prefix, and that’s the fact that transgender people don’t own the trans- prefix. It just means to move across, to move beyond, or to change. And that is what transids are doing. If bigots use them to make transgender people look bad, that’s not our fault and we shouldn’t stop being ourselves. There are alternatives terms for people who, for one reason or another, don’t associate with the trans prefix. Altage is a common alternative for transage for those who don’t identify with “transitioning” ages, and diaracial is frequently used as an alternative to transrace as not to take language from adoptees. But most of us prefer the trans- prefix. And us using it doesn’t take away from transgender people.
As for transids being insensitive, it really depends what you consider insensitive. There are some people who believe that someone identifying as transfeminine is deeply insensitive to “real” women and their struggles with misogyny. But that doesn’t make a transgender identity insensitive. I’m not trace/diaracial, and I am white, so I don’t know if I’m the best person to discuss trace/diaracial and insensitivity, but I recently answered a different ask with some trace/diaracial resources.
As for transabled, BIID is a real disorder that causes a desire to be physically disabled, usually either by losing a limb or having said limb paralyzed. These desires are no more insensitive to those who have come by the conditions they desire naturally than transmasculine individuals’ desires to remove their breasts are insensitive to cisgender women who have had breast cancer. As for neurodivergent transabled identities, I can only speak for myself as a cisautistic person. I think it is far more insensitive to imply that autism is only ever suffering, that it can never be desirable, and that people should never try to emulate it.
I will confess to there being some transabled identities that do personally strike me as insensitive and that I feel uncomfortable around. One of those is transdepression. I have been struggling with suicidiality on and off for almost two and a half years now and it’s gotten to the point where I wonder if I will ever get better. Seeing others aspire to clinical depression makes me wonder if they truly understand how terrible this can feel sometimes. My feelings don’t make me a bad person, just like your feelings of discomfort don’t make you one. The important thing is to stay open minded. I always try to seek out perspectives from those I don’t understand, and I encourage you to do the same. If other people react with hostility, then you should block them. Ask respectful questions and hopefully you will get respectful answers.
If anyone else would like to add on anything, feel free.
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artemx746 · 3 months ago
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Reminder that shouldn't need to be said: If your respect of a person's pronouns is only when you see them as "good" you are not a trans ally!
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seilon · 2 years ago
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hm
#I’ve always felt a bit. hm#alienated? no that’s not quite the right word uhh#just generally I’ve always felt a bit unnerved and cornered by the fact that it’s the general consensus of trans people on here and other#places online for the most part that a trans person should not wish they were born cis and should not feel um. I guess. depersonalized? by#the fact that they’re trans or have any ill feelings I’m not being born physically aligned with the gender they are#because. ngl I’ve always wished I was born cis. a cis man in particular. and growing up going through the Trans Experience for years and#years hasn’t really changed that. I mean that’s sort of what dysphoria tends to do. make you feel out of place in your own body and long for#a reality in which you have the Right Parts per se#but it feels almost like… problematic of me to think that way. I mean. like. if given the choice choosing to be born cis#it goes against the concept of having pride in a way because yeah frankly on a personal level I don’t really have much pride#in my not aligning with my assigned gender. I don’t feel like it’s wrong either obviously but I don’t feel overtly glad to be who/what I am#it’s just sort of… what it is. I guess from a personal philosophical standpoint to a degree but mostly just a combination of dysphoria and#living the Trans Experience which is– good things about the community as a whole and such aside– mostly terrible due to the proclivity for#hating yourself and/or associated constant bigotry and discrimination and being looked at weird and being looked at the wrong way and etc#so the part of ‘pride’ I do have is more of a general non-personal overarching pride for the people (including me) who have to go through#the shit thrown at us from the rest of the world and bearing it and still maintaining the label despite the pain it can provoke/invoke#but#on a personal level#I don’t know man I just can’t really… make myself glad to be trans or treat it as more of a pro in my life than a con#and I feel. like. from posts I often see and other people’s personal experiences/presentation that that’s… idk I’m looking for another word#than problematic but that’s the only one coming to mind#dysphoria’s a bitch man and it really goes much further than body image issues alone. I go through episodes of depersonalization all the#fine because of a disconnect from my own identity and sense of self and so on and though I have other mental health issues associated with#this as well a chunk of the reasoning for it is still dysphoria causing my own body to never feel 100% like my own body#anyway sorry this is edgy and hashtag deep sorry I need to do my work now#kibumblabs
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gor3sigil · 4 months ago
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Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.
I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.
Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.
I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.
5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.
I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.
I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.
I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.
I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.
I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.
But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.
I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.
It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.
If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.
Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.
It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.
You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.
Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.
Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.
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prettycottagequeer · 9 months ago
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ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)
SO these I should start on asap:
50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make
100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week
150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)
200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)
these can wait longer:
300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect
500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)
1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks
2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.
Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese
here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)
How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks
I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.
that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.
the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.
On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started
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enarei · 6 months ago
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i was banned late in 2022 for what the moderators told me was "hate speech". in my last post before the ban took place i'd called myself a tranny (i had been doing for months admittedly). i guess self-referential use of a slur could be framed as "hate speech" if you really wanted to police a group's speech. besides that i'd very recently expressed my dislike of all the associations centered around venerating american veterans and the conspirational origins of the "MIA" flag. "veteran status" is a protected identity under tumblr's community guidelines, which i think is as patently ridiculous as it sounds to anyone who is not from the US.
but those are just guesses. for all i know it could've been something else. i can't know for certain because i didn't receive any warnings or strikes prior to the ban. they refused to cite the offending post when i pressed them on it, and they didn't follow-up on my emails when i asked them again. they just said my whole blog violated the community guidelines. how? that's the kinda absurd part about using this website for an extended period of time (i had had that account for almost 5 years). any trans woman who is mildly public or vocal about their opinions when those opinions relate to her personhood is subjected to a torrent of hate speech. radfems were much more prominent back then, which gave the impression that this site's moderation was very lax. but when i was banned my account was deleted in one swift stroke, with no reference to what the offending content was, no previous warnings, and thus no means to reasonably try to contest it. i still don't know if I actually violated the community guidelines or not. no other social media does this. and one can argue tumblr is *relatively* more stringent about hate speech which impacts trans people than it was in 2022, but it's still a terrible practice. because people who might've been falsely banned due to an antagonistic moderator targeting a popular blog for personal reasons, something we know to have occurred with transmisoginistic actors in the past, that staff themselves have admitted happened, however briefly, have no means to prove it happened to them and end up just sounding like conspiracy theorists.
even if they claim they've rooted out the problem and their moderation team is "better" the complete lack of transparency makes it impossible to prove trans women aren't being targeted
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alwaysthefool · 16 days ago
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But She’s Not You (x Zayne)
Technically part 2 to Opposite (linked) but you can read it stand alone too.
Warnings: insecurity
Tags: Angst to comfort, f! Reader (pro trans blog), MC Reader
Synopsis: After you saw him with someone else and misunderstood, Zayne lets you know you’re the only one for him.
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Sulking at the waiting room couldn’t get past Yvonne’s sharp eyes. It had been a week since you’d come to the hospital. You didn’t pick up Zayne’s calls after you ‘ended things���, and him, being the gentleman that he was, did not push it. He was probably busy again, and now he had someone else to keep him company. Unfortunately for you, you had a weird and constant chest pain that was getting hard to ignore. You begged the receptionist to get you any other cardiologist than Zayne, which meant you had to wait, because Zayne would never make you wait when it came to your heart.
“What’s wrong?” She took a seat beside you at the metal chairs. “Trouble with the doc?”
You sighed, your head down, grateful she was here. “I saw him with another girl. Laughing, with another girl.”
“Dr. Zayne laughs?” Grayson slumped down on the other side of you. That just made you feel worse. Right, he was usually stoic, but who wouldn’t laugh when someone like her was making a joke?
Yvonne pinched Grayson, as if begging him to read the room.
“Well, he’s doing terribly.” Grayson spoke immediately. “I don’t think he took a break this entire week. Jo almost has to force him to take a break at times.”
Tears filled your eyes immediately and you hated that it wasn’t because you were concerned about him, but rather that he had another girl who’d remind him to take breaks, to eat sweets, to smile every now and then. It was selfish to think like that, but you couldn’t help but wish it was you.
“Dr. Grayson.” Yvonne warned, gesturing to you. “Don’t you have a surgery to get to?”
Grayson took the cue noticing your silent crying, pretending he was paged for something important, running away.
“There’s really nothing going on between them.” Yvonne tried to help you, patting your back. “There’s been new discoveries on Protocore syndrome treatments, and Jo is from the institute that made the discovery.”
You tried to stop the tears. Right, it couldn’t be helped. “It’s just… hard to be with someone like him.” You wiped your face with your sleeve. “Someone who’s always going to be wanted by people who are more than me. I’ll make one mistake, and he can find another girl who’s better than me in every way, and will never make any. I don’t want to spend my life thinking I have to compete.”
“Ms. [Name].” Zayne’s voice spoke from above you, sending your already struggling heart into a frenzy. “Please see me in my room immediately.”
You looked up to see him walk away, into his office, the nurse beside him, apologising to you. “I tried to hide it from him, but he was furious when I didn’t tell him you were here.” She whispered. You told her it was okay, silently following him. He held the door to his office open for you, closing it behind him once the two of you were in.
“You might be mad at me, but did you really have to try and change doctors?”
“I didn’t want to waste your time.”
“Nonsense.” He looked back at you with furious eyes. His hair was a mess, he’d definitely not had enough sleep, and you could see a bit of stubble on his jaw. No matter what happened, Zayne would put effort into his appearance, but you’d never seen him like that before.
You wanted to say something, ask him if he was alright, but you could only take your place on the couch in his office.
“How long have you been experiencing this?” He asked sternly, still standing, looking at your chart.
“A week.”
He shot you an exasperated look. “A week? And you’re only coming here now?”
I didn’t want to face you. You wanted to confess, but you settled with “I thought it’d go away by itself.”
Zayne tried to calm himself down, placing the chart on the table, sitting down on his desk with his head in his hands. You didn’t have control over yourself as your legs walked over to him. Even if he liked someone else, you couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t help but reach for him, your hand lightly resting on his back.
“Zayne?”
“Can I hold you?” His voice was broken, pleading. You let out a soft ‘yes’, and he immediately pulled you into his lip, hugging you tightly.
Was Zayne… crying?
“You’re here.” He whispered, resting his face against your neck, nuzzling into it, tightening his protective hold. Even if you couldn’t hear it well, you felt his wet eyes. He still smelled of coffee and mint. “Please don’t leave me again. I thought I messed up for good. Please give me another chance.”
“I overreacted.” You put your hands in his hair, and he kissed your neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“No.” He pulled away, holding you firmly on his lap with his large hands on your waist. “I didn’t understand how it must’ve looked to you. I’m away all the time, I don’t make time for you, but if it’s not you…” He looked intensely into your eyes. “It’s no one.”
Your heart felt less heavy, the pain easing into relief. You took a deep breath, but it still hurt your chest a little.
“And I’m sorry for what I said.“ He continued.
You teared up again. “Yeah, you should be. You have no idea how I felt.”
“I’ll win you back, if you’re not yet convinced.” He kissed you on your cheek, taking a handkerchief out of his bag to wipe away your tears. “Tell me, what do you want? I’ll give you anything.”
“What I came for. A diagnosis for my heart.” You smiled.
Zayne turned red, clearing his throat, helping you off his lap but not letting go of your hand. “Of course. I need you to come with me to get some tests done.” He used his free hand to look at his notes on the chart.
“And after that, you’re coming home with me so I can make it all up to you.”
—x—
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olderthannetfic · 12 days ago
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already seeing boneheads who don't read anything otw puts out "trump is gonna ban ao3 now" and i feel like i have several issues with this: 1. project 2025 may want to ban porn, but that's always been an uphill battle in the U.S. because of the first amendment, and there is going to be a lot of legal opposition. 2. the main legislation they're worried about, the comstock act, is going to be used to restrict mifepristone, not porn probably, and even then it only regulates obscenity "sent through the mail" because it's from the 1880s or something 3. the otw owns their own servers and if there was a real threat, would probably just be able to decamp them to another country 4. man, i wish this was the thing i was most concerned about now! so much is going to go south in this country, from trans rights to reproductive rights to our basic health care if RFK jr. gets the power to restrict vaccines and takes fluoride out of our water. i know people here who were looking to get pregnant and are now delaying it because they're terrified of a national abortion ban, since these laws are interpreting a D&C to take care of a miscarriage as "abortion." ukraine and gaza are fucked. it's not that i don't care about fanfiction and more broadly about free speech; i'm a donor to the otw. i've always been adamantly against any restrictions on obscenity, and fanfiction is a lot of how i'm getting through these terrible times. but it's like, when someone never posts about politics except "oh no they might ban ao3!" i'm just like god i wish i were you, without real problems lol
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Yuuup. AO3 will almost certainly be fine in the short term (and in the long term, we should always back things up multiple places).
I also feel like... yes, the majority of my friends and many people on tumblr are in the US, but tumblr is also a highly international space. I'm sure there's someone living in far more of a hellhole than the immediate future US lurking here, and they may not even be in one of the places that this election will very directly and immediately affect.
I wish people would have some perspective, both because it can give us a good idea of what we have to most especially fight against but also because things are not as apocalyptic as some people seem to believe.
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molsno · 5 months ago
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god, what happens next is so good. the character writing is just spectacular. it fascinates me just how much depth there is to each character and how that contributes to the story.
milo's dni is the most revealing thing about him, and it's the very first thing we hear from him:
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right off the bat, we can see what kind of person the protagonist is. he's a pastel softboi trans man who clings to a childish aesthetic to appear weak and non-threatening. despite being involved in a toxic relationship with another trans guy who attempted to rape and kill an 11 year old girl when he was a teenager and later murdered his girlfriend, which milo helped with by dismembering her corpse, he puts "pedophiles and unhealthy pairing shippers dni" on his carrd. which, ok, maybe he wants to distance himself from people like griffin now - except that's not really true, because he talks to, moves in with, and regularly hangs out with a serial killer fan who idolizes griffin and is even dating the guy while he's in prison. he puts "being against neopronouns" and "anti-otherkin" on the same level as those things. he explicitly denies any responsibility in the murders of haylie and savannah, despite having literally chopped haylie's arm off. all the while, he has "you deserve to heal" in big bold letters, while not applying that belief to anyone but himself.
right from the start, it's obvious that milo is not a good person. but he's also humanized throughout the story. sure, some of his softboi persona is a means of victimizing himself to avoid taking responsibility for what he did - and you could make the case that he was a victim in some ways. on the other hand, he also never got to grow up because he spent 5 years in a psychiatric institute. is it any surprise that he clings to the same aesthetic, interests, and hobbies he had when he was 15? he never got to stop being a kid, and how is he supposed to now? he didn't graduate high school, he can't get a job, and nobody wants to be friends with him because of what he did. it raises uncomfortable questions - namely, what happens next? milo served his time for the crime he committed as a minor. he was already punished, but now he has to live the entire rest of his life. what is he supposed to do?
that, I think is the most interesting part of this story. almost every character in this story makes it hard for you to like them, but they also have very human reasons for doing the terrible things that they do. I'll talk about some of my favorites under the read more, but be aware that there will be spoilers:
claire is one of the most interesting characters to me, just because of how unlikable she is.
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when we first see claire in victim impact statement, she tries to ignore haylie, griffin, and milo as much as possible. she doesn't even seem to like her sister. she treats haylie as a nuisance for coming into the room that they share as sisters. she doesn't want to go to the open mic night to listen to haylie play her ukulele. when she finds haylie bawling her eyes out in the bathroom at anime central, she just looks away, as if to say "you chose to date your shitty boyfriend". when she hears haylie and griffin fighting upstairs, she just pretends not to hear it. when haylie is curled up in terror later, claire puts on headphones and turns her back to her. her headphones become a way of drowning out haylie's screams when griffin is around, and because of that, she doesn't hear haylie screaming for her life, and ends up finding her corpse in the kitchen.
that's why I don't find it surprising at all that she becomes an outspoken transphobe who wants to take her anger out on the trans people who murdered her sister. she goes to media events and publicly degenders milo and griffin. she calls aaron's friends trannies. I think it's easy to misconstrue her as a terf, but she literally doesn't even pay lip service to feminism. how could she? she knew that her sister was being abused by her boyfriend, and she did nothing. let me remind you that she lives in a house where "smash the patriarchy" is embroidered on the wall. she doesn't care about any of that. she just wants a scapegoat. she wants to make the law impose harsher punishments on minors who commit violent crimes because she doesn't know what else to do with her life. she very clearly hates herself, becoming an alcoholic to cope with her guilt. she pretends to care about haylie and fight for this law because it's the only way she can convince herself she's a good person, even though she can see that doing what she's doing is turning everyone against her.
and then that brings us to audrey. it's difficult to like her, too, because she's dating claire despite all of the horrible things she's doing. but at the same time, I can see where she's coming from. her mother died of cancer and she and all of her other black siblings were adopted by conservative christian white parents. she's still christian to this day, and makes a point of separating herself from "criminals" by insisting that she has nothing to do with them because she goes to church and takes care of her family. she doesn't want to disavow the law that claire worked so hard to pass because at the end of the day, it won't affect her personally, even though she is aware that the justice system disproportionately punishes black people. she very clearly has a lot of internalized racism, and I think that's best exemplified in the way she draws herself. despite having pretty dark skin in real life, she draws herself as light skinned as claire, her white girlfriend:
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like, it's hard to like audrey, but you can clearly see why she's made all of the decisions she has! she idolizes claire because it's her first lesbian relationship. the way she sees it, claire can do no wrong. audrey does actually seem to be aware that her girlfriend is doing terrible things, but she essentially just plugs her ears and tries to ignore it. that's why she doesn't go to claire's campaign events. she ignores all of her girlfriend's flaws because claire is essentially her savior. because she has claire, she doesn't have to go back to her family, to her abusive alcoholic white father. she doesn't have to actually take care of her younger siblings, which is a responsibility she's foisted off unto mark. that's why she ignores that claire is just as much of an emotional drain as her father. she's highly depressed, she's an alcoholic, she trashes their bedroom (leaving audrey to clean up after her mess), she puts up an emotional wall and dismisses audrey's attempts to comfort her, and dismisses audrey's own problems as being less traumatizing and less important. by all accounts, claire is a terrible girlfriend and a terrible person, but because audrey idolizes her as her savior, she stays by her side. I'm really looking forward to seeing how she reacts to claire's disappearance in future chapters.
and then of course, there's vikki. she's been doing something incredibly disrespectful for years by making true crime videos where she talks about the victims and killers like it's all a joke. she makes a video about whether ethical necrophilia is possible, and makes a callous, bitter joke that the concept of "respect for the dead" is antiquated, because nobody respects her as a trans woman of color even though she's still alive. for this comment, people have harassed her online endlessly, enough that she had to make a video called "STOP TELLING PEOPLE I FUCK CORPSES". that doesn't stop her from making a video about the murder of haylie, complete with an interview from milo. she'll throw him under the bus if it means getting the attention off herself for a bit.
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and yet, I think out of everyone, I feel the most compassion for vikki. yes, she used milo for content and called him a "sad little blonde girl", but I can understand where she's coming from! like, again, she's a trans woman of color in the true crime community. she knows the archetype milo is trying so hard to be in order to avoid taking responsibility for what he did. like, I've personally seen trans women of color who are victimized by white trans men who pull the same exact shtick as milo over and over, so I completely understand her frustration. that said, she also realized she went too far and tried to apologize, only to find out she was blocked and that milo basically wrote a callout post against her. I think it says a lot that vikki was one of the only people to actually try to talk to milo, even if the way she went about it was wrong.
vikki does things that are disrespectful, but to be honest, it's not that surprising! she grew up in a 90% white town in the middle of nowhere, got assaulted by multiple white boys for being a faggot, got sent to alternative school, worked for a funeral home as a teenager, and transitioned. not only is she desensitized to death, she's angry that people revere the dead more than her.
it's astounding, really! what happens next is so well written because it makes you feel conflicted about each of its characters. what are we supposed to do with these people who do awful things? a lot of the intrigue in this comic comes from seeing how each of the characters handles this question as they deal with the other characters who have done terrible things, while they themselves are deeply flawed as well. I think the writing really forces you to contend with the idea that these are all still people, and that their humanity needs to be recognized even if they do terrible things. it makes you ask, what happens next?
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blitzwhore · 6 months ago
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I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭
😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.
I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.
This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).
Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.
At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.
How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:
Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!
If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.
If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.
If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).
If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.
And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.
All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!
And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:
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We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌
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emperor-kumquat · 10 months ago
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Fandom, WTF
It's not just X; it could happen here too. My fucking god, a Transformers YouTuber almost did the unspeakable last night because of cyberbullying. Because people who claim they are being heroic are doing such terrible things. And they do it so damn fast.
(The YouTuber is more stable and safe at the moment)
You don't need to know the exact details, but the person made a post on X that was a little iffy. Not discriminatory to anyone, not an inappropriate picture or anything. The kind of thing that SHOULD have led to a discussion to change his opinion. And that's what the some other YouTubers and I did, we talked to him, and he regretted his words and changed his mind. Just like that. So fucking easy.
He wanted to write an apology and tell everyone he understood the issue now, but he was struggling to. His account was reported and suspended over and over. In the end, he did manage to write that apology on X and tell people he changed his opinion. That kind of thing can happen when we act patiently and try to guide people! But before then, other people were DMing him madly on Discord and X to say horrible shit, show gore, tell him to die. People were photoshopping a convicted criminal's face onto his profile pic. Friends severed ties without even talking to him. People doxxed him and someone left him a threatening phone call.
These people probably loved the excuse to do it. They would happily slap a label on someone then act dramatic about it. They pile on the hate because "that creator deserves it", they think.
How can you do any of the above and think you are a good person??
What on Earth happened to giving people the benefit of the doubt? Out of all the ways a statement could be interpreted, why do people choose the most negative instead of the most positive? When drama hits and your friend is involved, how can you leave without at least hearing the other side of the story? How can you forget that you may be harassing someone who has mental health or is neurodivergent?
It's like people love being mad. They want to put a bad label on someone, like some kind of "_ist", "_phobe", or a "p*do". They don't need much evidence before attacking. Here on Tumblr a while back, some people very eagerly wanted to harass me. They called me transphobic. The reality they didn't care to find out: I am trans, I make trans activist videos, I go on the front lines countering anti-trans protests in Canada while getting screamed at by conservatives for hours. Get real. If you are so quick to hate someone and label them, you were probably just eager to misinterpret anything they said to get a chance to be angry. You don't know them and you are not a sensible, fair person. They act like a pack of wolves if they can tell themselves it's justified. It is NOT justified. They should be ashamed. They are just bullies hiding behind a hero’s mask.
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doberbutts · 2 years ago
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It was a year or two ago some annoying terf was harassing me because I'm a terrible evil trans man beguiling and leading gay men astray with my gross vagina or whatever
And at some point how women are born with vaginas and men are born with penises and that was that
And I replied 'what about those who are born into the space inbetween? Women with psuedo-penises? Testicles where ovaries should be? Naturally higher testosterone? Facial and body hair?'
And naturally she screeched about how I was an evil tra who throws intersex people under the bus when intersex people have asked to be left out of this conversation.
But the problem is... I was talking about MYSELF. If you're going to forcibly label me a woman because I was born with a vagina, I'm going to require you to tell me what your definition of "woman" is that doesn't inherently exclude me from being ABLE to be labeled such.
A woman is someone born with a vagina, ovaries, and a uterus? And never with testes, prostate, and penis? Well I have a little of column A and a little of column B and that is without any amount of surgery or medical procedure.
A woman is someone whose endocrine system is estrogen-dominant? Sorry, that's never been me, I've always had higher testosterone than estrogen even before I went on T.
A woman doesn't need to shave her face? My beard predates my HRT. Doesn't have an adam's apple? I've had one since puberty. Cannot penetrate a partner without the help of a toy? Can and have. Body capable of creating new life? I've got it on pretty good authority that I've been infertile since the day I was born and that if I did somehow manage to get pregnant the fetus likely would never be viable anyway.
Doctors are sure she's a female baby the moment she comes out? Well considering my name was almost Jon Roger before the doctor realized he needed to take a second glance...
Has XX chromosomes? Well since I figured out this year that I for sure am intersex I do actually know my chromosomes now... but I didn't before. XY babies with my condition usually just die and those who do survive aren't intersex so I have to be XX since I made it to 30 without dying (I mean I tried real hard tho) without medical intervention. But if we're basing it on just XX or XY then you still have to put forth the effort of figuring out where you sort all the other possible configurations such as XY babies that look identical to XX babies and were often not caught until something was medically wrong with them that required a deeper look than just what was on the surface.
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imababblekat · 3 months ago
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Bayverse TmnT X Trans-man Reader; HC's
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Anon Request," I don't know if you do TMNT Bayverse boys with a trans-man!reader so if you don't, I'm sorry and feel free to delete this ask: How would the boys react when their S/O discovers in the middle of their relationship that they don't feel like a girl anymore and realizes that they prefer to be called a man but is scared to tell them for fear of the turtles hating them and break up with them. S/O is scared that they're going to call them a freak and a weirdo for it; even though at times they forget that they're dating a mutant turtle."
◉Story Notes: trans male reader, very brief mention of terf(just the word), s/o referred to as they before coming out to turt bf, he/him with (s/o) is the turt's now bf for clarification, hurt with comfort
~xXx~
Leonardo:
He senses from the gecko that something is different about his s/o, it’s an energy thing is what he tells them later on
Leo won’t bring up this strange feeling he has about his s/o till he starts noticing how they started acting almost distant with him
Like they’re hiding something and it concerns him more than anything, because what if it’s something serious? Like they’re secretly in danger?
Leo will sit them down with their favorite drink, somewhere private and let them know that he’s concerned for them, and while they have absolutely every right to not say anything to him, he just wants them to know he hopes they’re okay and that they can trust him
His s/o confessing that they’re trans, was not at all what he thought was going on, but he’s so incredibly happy they felt they could come out to him
However, Leo does feel kind of sad that his s/o had been worried this whole time because of him(s/o) being a transman might effect their relationship
When he(s/o) explains this to Leo, said turtle is quick to reassure him(s/o), stating he’d love him(s/o) no matter how he(d/o) identified, because if anyone knew that there was more to the world than the physical, it’s definitely Leonardo
Raphael:
His s/o’s stiffened return to his hug is what tips Raph off that something is going on
Did he do something wrong? Oh god, he hopes you’re not becoming repulsed by him
After a few more instance of his s/o acting strange, Raph pretty much puts his foot down and ask what’s going on
His s/o is thrown for a loop when he ask if he did something wrong, or if there’s something wrong with him, and it almost makes them laugh
They’re quick to explain, albeit scared, that no, nothing is wrong with Raph, and that in fact, they’re worried that he’ll think something is wrong with them
Poor lover boy is so confused till they confess how they feel like a man more than a girl, and Raph just kind of sits there like. . .ok??
His s/o is still his s/o, and he’ll love him(s/o) regardless of how he(s/o) identifies, so why would he(s/o) be worried what he thinks?
It’s not that he finds his s/o coming out as a transman is bad or anything, he just doesn’t see the big deal till he(s/o) goes on to explain to the large turtle that the reason he(s/o) was so scared to say anything is because of how terribly the trans community has been treated
Raph gets quickly understands then, and even though his s/o being trans doesn’t make a big difference to him, he of all the turtle brothers knows what it’s like to be treated horribly just because you don’t quote on quote fit in
He’ll reassure his boyfriend that coming out doesn’t change anything for him, Raphael still loves him(s/o) wholeheartedly, if anything's changed it’s that he added terfs to his list of “People I’d Punch On Site”
Donatello:
Donnie is so perceptive about things, especially concerning his s/o
He’s the fastest to notice a change in them and ponders if he should outright ask his s/o if everything's okay, or wait for them to come to him
Donnie will test the waters with his s/o responses to any forward actions he takes before deciding this is a matter of them needing to want to come to him, in which case he’ll spend so much time making them comfortable with non-verbal gestures to feel they can confide in him
It takes a while, but Donnie is a patient turtle; if he can spend a week plus on a single project, he can wait an eternity for his love
Eventually they do come to him, in the middle of the night while he’s typing away at his laptop, and his s/o feels their heart flutter when Donnie is fast to stop his work just for them
It helps encourage them in confessing that they no longer feel like a girl, but a man instead, which is terrifying to tell Donnie
Why? Because the man is a literally scientific genius if not prodigy, and bigots love to use science to demean the trans community
So imagine how surprised his s/o is when he simply smiles and gently reminds his s/o that he’s(s/o) dating a mutant ninja turtle
Donnie gets his s/o to laugh the anxiety away by jokingly stating that the most normal part of their relationship is his s/o coming out as trans
Seriously though, he like his brothers love his s/o no matter what, and he’ll spend the rest of the night showing his s/o why being trans is actually scientifically plausible so that if anyone tries to say something to him(s/o), well he’s got his genius partner to back him(s/o) up
Michelangelo:
Mikey is by far the quickest to find out his s/o is trans; his welcoming personality makes it easy for his s/o to make up their mind on telling him
Ofcourse that doesn’t mean it’s still all that easy, it’s a very serious topic and Mikey tends to be anything but serious
Except for when he picks up on his s/o’s sudden odd behavior around him
He’s so good at letting them know how worried he is, and it nearly breaks their heart that he was so concerned for them
When they do confess that they’re a trans man, a stiff silence fills the room as Mikey stares that them, thinking. . .
It’s got his s/o quickly regretting saying anything, dreading the moment their sunshine would ultimately break up with him(s/o), when Mikey dumbly comments
“So like. . .the robots?”
He's(s/o) left sputtering, on one hand he(s/o) wants to laugh at the pun on the other he(s/o) wants to slap Mikey on the arm
Mikey laughs for them both, quickly pulling his s/o in for a hug and a big smooch, feeling over the moon for being the one his s/o chose to come out to, knowing how big of a moment this is for him(s/o)
His s/o is still a little peeved at his joke, but can’t help to smile because he(s/o) can always count on Mikey to help wash away any fears he(s/o) may have
Not to mention, but Mikey is also the biggest hype man for his transman s/o, if anyone can make someone feel themselves in the best of ways, it’s definitely Mikey and he’s 100% going to make sure his s/o loves being him(s/o) self
~xXx~
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genderqueerdykes · 2 months ago
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is it bad to be scared to start hrt?
i feel a little ashamed that i am. i try my hardest to be positive about all the things that make men & mascs masculine. i try to appreciate the parts that arent valued by society, like male pattern baldness, being fat, hairiness (love that part especially lol), etc.
but im 15, and i go back and fourth over whether or not i want to start testosterone. i had terrible cystic acne before i started acne medication, i have male pattern baldness on my dads side etc. im not a binary trans guy, so i kinda doubt ill be on it forever anyway if i DO wind up doing it, but its really scary to be told all the stuff that WILL make me a man when im… just a boy. that feels infantalizing but i suppose its true. im scared to be a man admittedly, im angry i never got to have a “true” boyhood because in currently at that age, and im scared of being thrust into it after not getting to be one. theres so much stuff about becoming “ugly” after starting testosterone. i know thats not true, logically, but ive faced so much bullying for not being pretty enough as an afab that i guess i still have that vanity embedded within me.
i feel ashamed for it, do you have any advice?
no, absolutely not- i think it's super reasonable to be scared to start HRT. it's a huge change, it affects your body and mentality in many different ways. it's a lot to take on at once especially considering there are permanent effects if taken for long enough at a high enough dose
i get why you'd be worried at that age. i didn't start HRT until i was in my early 20s. i think its okay to give yourself some time, especially considering you have some concerns about it potentially affecting your health. it would be ideal to find a way to get your blood tested for a few things- liver enzymes, red blood cell count, estrogen and testosterone levels, and so on. if you can't do that, it's understandable. i know it's not easy for someone your age to get a ride to a place like that discretely
is it possible to contact your dermatologist about your acne and see if they would be able to weigh in on that? baldness is a tricky thing. some people do bald but really late in life. some people don't. a lot of transmascs have their hairline recede by a few inches and then it usually stops. the nice thing about hair loss is there are medications that work very well that can help mitigate that. gender affirming care specialists or other doctors who prescribe testosterone are usually aware of the effects on scalp hair, and usually they'll help you test for high blood pressure, any issues like that
honestly i get where you're coming from here. i've seen this way too many times. people get pissed off about someone being a type of trans they don't like so they just bully the person until they consider detransitioning or never start transition at all, and then continue to mock and harass them anyway. i see this all the damn time and it bugs me like why would you do that to someone. who cares
people think it's ok to bully trans men & mascs right now because of all of the transandrophobia and antimasculism in general. testosterone doesn't make anyone "ugly", people are projecting their hatred of men and mascs on to a hormone that almost everyone produces naturally. it's just hateful senseless bullying. people think the younger the trans man/boy/masc is, the more valid they are to bully them.
it's okay to identify as a boy for as long as you need. you actually never have any obligation to adopt the label man if it doesn't fit you. many people identify as boys instead of men. some people are guys and not men. it's okay some people find they have to take their time to transition from boy to man. you're only 15 you are still a child, you don't have to worry about being a man for quite a while
it's definitely okay to feel conflicted and confused here. if you're able to, take time to yourself where you shut all that noise from other people out. if you're able to just ask yourself a few questions like why do i identify as a boy, what about it makes me happy, what kinds of things do i want to do in transition. just try to get a feel for what's going on so it makes it hard for people to get in your head
remember that when people attack you like this they're projecting something they deeply hate about themselves on to you. my therapist told me that last week and i thought i would just relay that. it's alright to be affected by it, but they really are just being assholes. it's good to be a trans man/boy/masc. transmasculinity is good. testosterone is good. testosterone saved my life. i'm glad to get up in the morning every day because i at least look and sound like myself. i love my body. i love the way i look. i'm stronger. i stand taller. my face is the right shape. my voice sounds right.
life is good
i hope you found any of this helpful. good luck, it's okay to feel guilt or shame for a bit. i did NOT want to come out as FtM for a VERY long time it was hard. i get it. take care of yourself, let me know if you have any more questions
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fuwaprince · 11 months ago
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👉👈 Hi friends! I have a long, serious post made just for you(!) that isn't full of spoilers, smut or mooning lawn gnomes. Please read if you can, this is a 💥 mutual aid request 💥
It has been a horribly painful and long while as most people following/keeping up with me know. and in a few days I'm going to be down $1500, which is basically all my fucking $
I can't afford Christmas for anybody, which sucks and I'm very sorry. I can't even take care of myself and haven't been, which also sucks and I'm very sorry
Landlords spontaneously raised rent on me more than halfway through this month as punishment for not getting to my house chores and not communicating, to be totally honest with you. I feel ashamed and awful about it but I didn't want to clean the place while multiple ppl living here had tested positive for COVID and kept walking around unmasked... I am not fully vaxxed because I've been too depressed to get any kind of necessary medical care done and I didn't want to catch COVID in the middle of my finals week for the semester. I woke up to being angrily and rudely bitched at first thing after the last of my finals (I passed at least). It wasn't a humanizing text. Fuck the mistreatment though. Rent is now almost doubled and it won't be lowered
There was no room for negotiation and I truly believe they've resorted to pricing me out of living here because the group of renters psychologically tormenting me wasn't effective (actually- putting a picture of my rapist on the fridge rly was super effective in getting me to isolate myself in my room all day and so was outing me as trans to the transphobic ass neighbors.... But I didn't and still don't have any place better to move out to, like the way they were hoping I would. Yes, I have looked and BEGGED btw)
I want out of here NOW, but I can't leave. I tried and had to come back because it was the best option. I can't afford to stay in a motel/hotel/BnB just to get away from them for a day or two during Christmas. I don't have any friends who I can spend the holiday with either. During the semester, I resorted to convincing classmates with keys to locked buildings to let me crash in them while they worked at night and I would leave before anybody showed up. Now that school is out, I can't do that. I don't have any family I can reach out to for support or friends who I can depend on for immediate help. I have been crying day in and day out for weeks. I have records of it posted throughout my blog. Literally crying for days on end. I'm being so fucking transparent
All that lump of text is to explain to whoever is out there, who might be listening and willing and able, to please consider helping me, if and ONLY IF able. I know times are tough and if you'd rather use your $ for other reasons or just don't have any to spare, don't sweat it and take care! 🫂
I've thought about what I could do for a long time and have helped myself how I can. It isn't enough. I've applied for so much assistance. Been approved and been sabotaged by my inhumane mom (who does not love me) via stealing my legal documents and letters and hiding them for months. My mind jumps to grim places but I'm clinging for dear life to whatever hope I have left that says things will get better. I wish I knew somebody with a business that I could work for. Part of me feels so fucking terrible for asking for help because I feel like a waste of all your resources. I feel like I shouldn't ask, like I really do not fucking deserve help, but there are friends online who care, who I know mentioned being interested in helping in whatever ways they can
So to the people who care to seriously me, I'm ready to accept it: please send me nice words to get through this and feel less alone. It feels pathetic to ask but I would love a nice letter. A nice card even. Kind words of any kind would go a long way. It means more to me than food. I have felt so broken and every day feels like a test to figure out how badly I actually want to live
I'm also leaving my cash app and paypal here in case anybody would like to do more than what I'm comfortable asking but probably very likely will inevitably need very very soon. I will be left with fucking nothing and I will have no idea what to do once rent is paid
Thank you to those of you who have sent love, offered to listen and heard me out. I really wish it wasn't so hard to survive. I'm trying to feel better knowing there are people out there who are also without help and hoping the best, but it doesn't make me feel any better or comforted tbh. I just wish the help was there for us. I wish there was a place to go for spare love, care, compassion, empathy, kindness, humanity, generosity... I need that more than I need $. Call me stupid but that's what I live for. I don't live for paying to survive in terrible conditions. I live for love and to smile with friends
I hope to write back to the friends who have already been so kind as to message me soon btw. I'm sorry for not replying sooner. Your overwhelming support is sincerely sweet and sometimes I cry because I can't believe people are so nice (to me???). It'll give me something to do that doesn't make me feel like dying! :') so thank you thank you thank you *fist bump*
Hope you're all doing as well as you can and that somehow things get better. Hope anybody else struggling like me doesn't make the mistake of isolating like a sick and dying animal. You deserve love. You deserve support. Don't be like me. Have the courage to reach out to the people who care about you for help as early on into your emergency as possible. Don't let your situation snowball because you spend so long trying to figure out if you're worth it!!! This Random Tumblr user is here to tell you that YOU ARE. Sending my infinite everlasting unconditional love. Be nice to yourselves. Be nice to each other. Fuck the hateful assholes who wish I would just kill myself already. Tell your friends you love them. Happy Holidays!!!
And here's a single picture of a mooning lawn gnome at the very end, as a treat! I told you this post wasn't full of it.... It just ended with it 👉👉
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hippiegoth97 · 10 days ago
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Beautiful Boy, Darling Boy: Eddie Munson x Reader
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Description: You've been with Eddie for years, and just six months ago you came out to him as transgender. He's nothing but supportive, and after a long day of work, he helps you through your daily/weekly rituals and has some intimate time with you...
Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, smoking, male reader, trans!reader (FTM), gay!reader, bisexual!eddie munson, mentions of transphobia, family issues, deadnaming (marked as D/N), arguing, one use of the F slur and T slur, crying, LGBTQ+ references, struggles with gender/body image, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, dirty talk, slight brat/dom dynamic, choking, spanking, rough/aggressive sex, consecutive orgasms, overstimulation, fluff
Word Count: 8.8k
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divider by @firefly-graphics
Beautiful Boy, Darling Boy
"Go ahead, baby. I know you can do it." Eddie says, his hands on your hips as he stands behind you in the bathroom of his trailer. You're looking at him through the reflection in the mirror, holding a long chunk of your hair in one hand, and a pair of scissors in the other. You've been standing here for what feels like hours, trying to get yourself to cut your hair.
"You don't think I'm being crazy, Eds?" You ask as a tear rolls down your cheek. You know you want to do this, to feel more like who you're supposed to be. But you can't help wondering if this isn't the right choice. You don't know how your parents will react, let alone your friends and coworkers. They've known you as D/N for so long, as a girl and a woman. Will any of them accept you as Y/N, as a man? Your heart pounds, and your stomach is doing somersaults. Your hands tremble terribly as you wait for the first cut to come.
"Not at all, Y/N. I know it's scary, but you can't worry about what others are gonna think of you. Because as long as you're true to yourself, the right people will love you no matter what. Like I do." He leans forward to give you a light kiss on the cheek. His affirming words calm your nerves slightly.
Eddie's made every step of this process as easy as he can for you. The second you told him that you're trans, he immediately started using the name you gave him to call you. He's helped find resources for you to get a good doctor to start your transition. He gave you some of his clothes until you can shop for your own. He's helped you with binding your chest using bandage tape until you can get a real binder. But most of all, he still loves you and wants to be with you. There hasn't been a single second where Eddie let his affections waver, despite you being his 'girlfriend' for almost three years. He knows that he's meant to be with you forever, and he wants you to be happy above all else.
"Okay." You say with a small smile, before closing the blades of the scissors around your long locks. The metal slices through the hairs, making them fall in a big bunch in your hand. "Holy shit." You exhale, dropping the hair on the floor and inspecting the place where it used to be attached to your head. You suddenly feel euphoric, invigorated. You start cutting off more chunks, doing your best to keep the sides even. Luckily your years at beauty school come in handy in this scenario. Happy tears flow from your eyes as you chop every offending inch and end. It gathers on your shoulders when it doesn't pile on the tiles below. When you've taken off enough to satisfy yourself, you clean everything up so it doesn't look like a total disaster. Once you're finished, you brush away as much of the dead hair as you can.
"Wow. You look so handsome, baby." Eddie coos as he looks at you in wonderment. He means every word he says, you truly are the most gorgeous man he's ever seen.
"Thank you, Eddie. For everything." You smile like an idiot, admiring your new look while Eddie peppers your neck and shoulders with gentle kisses. But of course he gets some loose hair in his mouth, dramatically trying and failing to spit it out. "Jesus, what am I gonna do with you?" You ask with a laugh, setting the scissors down on the sink.
"Love me forever?" He asks, chuckling lowly when he gets the little cuttings off his tongue.
"You got it." You reply, leaning back against his chest. His arms move to wrap around your middle, holding you close in this joyous moment.
This happy little snapshot took place six months ago, but the rest of that day was far from pleasant. After you'd showered the itchy stray hairs off and gotten bound and dressed, you and Eddie went to your house to come out to your parents. The second they opened the front door, shit hit the fan.
"Oh, D/N. There you are, we were wondering when you were coming home." Mom says, her eyes widening as she looks you up and down. She ogles your chest, wondering where the swells of it have gone. And then she sees your new haircut. "Jesus, D/N! What the hell did you do to your hair?" She asks, almost angrily.
"I'll explain everything, Mom. Can we all talk in the living room?" You say sheepishly, feeling very self-conscious.
"Okay?" Dad says, a puzzled expression on his face. The four of you go inside, your parents sitting on the couch while you and Eddie sit in chairs across from them. "So, what is this about?" He asks while crossing his arms.
"Well, I've recently figured something out about myself. And I really hope you'll love and accept me for who I am." You pause, looking at their neutral faces to see if they change at all. "I...I'm not a woman. I'm transgender, so I'm a man. And I would like to go by Y/N from now on."
"What? Is this why you ruined your beautiful hair, D/N?" Mom asks in an interrogating tone.
"It's why I CUT my hair, yes. And please, call me Y/N." You speak as politely as you can while standing your ground.
"Oh, this is just ridiculous, D/N. You're not a goddamn man! You don't have a penis, I should know! I was there to cut the cord when you were born! You're a woman, end of story!" Dad shouts, his face growing red as he shoots down your identity.
"I don't have to have a dick to be a man. This is who I am, why won't you listen?" Your voice raises as you hold strong, though you can feel tears welling up in your eyes.
"Because you're talking crazy, D/N! You're a girl, regardless of what this freak you insist on dating may have told you." Mom chimes in, shooting Eddie a glare.
"He didn't tell me anything! I figured this out on my own! All Eddie has done is love and support me! Unlike you!" You shout, the tears coming down through your anger.
"Well, of course the psycho Satanist would support this insanity! D/N, I've always told you what a bad influence he is! Now, cut this shit out, stop squishing your breasts, and go put on some fucking girl clothes!" Dad orders, pointing upstairs at your room for you to go change.
"NO! I'm a man, and my name is Y/N! There's nothing you can do about it! I'll transition whether you like it or not, and I'm not going to stop seeing Eddie. I'm a fucking adult, and you can't stop me!" You scream, standing out of your chair.
"Fine. You're right, we can't stop you. But since you insist on deluding yourself, you can't live here anymore." Mom says calmly, a sickening smile on her face. She's convinced that this threat will make you give in to their demands.
"Fine! I'll go live with Eddie, then! I don't need this, and I don't need you!" You retort, taking Eddie's hand. "C'mon, let's go pack up my shit." He stands with you, though he hasn't said a goddamn word this whole time.
"You have ten minutes, and then we're calling the police. So make it snappy." Dad says, hammering the final nail in the coffin that signifies the end of your relationship with them. You don't care at this point, it's not worth putting up with their ignorant bullshit anymore. They have never been supportive of you or what you want in life. They've belittled your relationship with Eddie, and your pursuit of becoming a hairdresser. And any hobbies or clubs you enjoyed as a child were quickly squashed with their comments and criticism.
"I'm sorry, I guess I didn't even ask if I could live with you." You sigh, pulling your old suitcase from your closet. You remove any passable masculine clothes from the hangers and drawers, shoving them into the suitcase.
"It's fine, Y/N. I was going to offer anyway. I'm sure Wayne won't mind, and I'm certainly not letting you live on the street." Eddie says calmly. But you can tell he's boiling with rage beneath the surface. He goes to the linen closet in the hall to find some trash bags, asking you if there's anything he should focus on packing. You're mostly looking for clothes or anything with high sentimental value. Turns out it doesn't amount to much, but you don't mind leaving all the girly things in your overly-pink bedroom anyways. You definitely don't need them anymore.
You go back downstairs, placing your gathered things at the front door. "Mom, I need my legal documents." You state simply, knowing you'll need things like your birth certificate and social security card in the future.
"And why should I give them to you? They have our daughter's name on them, not yours." She replies, pleased with her snark.
"I am aware of that, but I'm going to need them and you damn well know that. They are my legal property, and I'll call the fucking cops myself and tell them you're withholding them from me. Or, you can hand them over right now." You cross your arms, staring her down.
"Alright, fine!" She gives up, heading into the study to retrieve the little folder where all such documents are neatly organized. She comes back, practically throwing the bundle of papers at you. "Here. Now, get out!"
"I will! And thanks for nothing, you are truly the worst parents ever. You have never supported me, or loved me. You just want to control me. And to that I say, fuck you!" You open the front door, stepping outside. Eddie loads your stuff into the van, and your father comes over to say one last thing. Something that neither you or Eddie will ever forget.
"This is all your fault. You corrupted our daughter, you fucking deviant. I just pray she'll see the light one day, and come back to us once she realizes what you've done to her." Eddie's face hardens, but he doesn't respond. You imagine he'd just end up punching Dad square in the face if he tries to speak.
"And one day you'll realize how evil you are for kicking out your own child instead of accepting them." You retort, helping your boyfriend shut the back doors to the van before getting in the passenger side. He turns on the engine, squealing out of the driveway to go back to his place. You can't help bursting into tears once the house you grew up in is no longer in view. "I'm sorry, Eddie." You sob, your face falling into your hands.
"What for, sweetheart?" He asks, looking over at you with concerned eyes.
"For everything. I know you didn't sign up for this. I'm just making your life difficult, and now I'm going to take up your space when there's already not enough to go around." Your chest heaves violently as you cry, you feel so many emotions at once. Anger, heartbreak, fear of what comes after this. But you also feel shame, and like you're burdening those around you.
"You cut that shit out right now, Y/N. I signed up for loving and supporting you no matter what. And I damn well intend to do it. You aren't taking up anything I haven't offered to you willingly. You're my boyfriend, and what's mine is yours. Okay?" He reaches over to rub his hand on your back, trying to calm you down.
"Okay." You say quietly, trying to slow down and breathe. It doesn't take long for Eddie to pull up to his trailer, and you find Wayne sitting on the steps smoking a cigarette.
Wayne notices you crying as you get out of the van, along with your new haircut. He's noticed you dressing differently the last couple weeks, but he's been waiting for you to tell him what's up in your own time. "What happened?" He asks, coming over to you.
"Y/N's parents kicked him out." Eddie says without thinking, and your eyes widen at him saying your new name in front of his uncle.
"Oh. Y/N, huh?" Wayne questions, giving you a once-over. You feel a lump forming in your throat, worried you're going to be kicked out of yet another home today. But Wayne just smiles, pulling you in for a bear hug. "It's nice to finally meet ya, Y/N." He says with a sniffle.
"Thank you, Wayne." You hug him back just as hard, unable to hold back even more tears. These ones are much happier though, it feels so good to be accepted by someone you've always considered a second father.
"Of course, kiddo. Let's get your stuff inside." He says, pulling away slowly.
"You really mean it, I can stay here?" You ask, somehow still doubting you're welcome to live here.
"Yes! You're always welcome here, Y/N. For as long as you need, forever if you want. You're pretty much family, for fuck's sake!" Wayne laughs, giving you a kind smile.
"I appreciate it, Wayne. You have no idea how much this means."
"Alright, alright! I'm lettin' you stay in a shitty trailer, it's far from The Ritz. C'mon, that's enough sappy shit for one day." Wayne insists, moving on to help with your stuff. 
And just like that, you officially became a part of the Munson household. Eddie emptied a couple dresser drawers for you, shoving his own clothes into the already overflowing ones. He made sure you had room for your toothbrush, shampoo, and other similar items. Anything else was given enthusiastic permission to be prominently displayed around his room, he wanted his space to become yours. Within minutes, this room he'd lived in all alone for years fell under the term he so lovingly calls 'ours'.
"How was work today, babe?" Eddie asks as you walk through the front door. He's relaxing on the couch, his head laying on the armrest. One leg is bent at the knee while the other stretches almost to the other end of the sofa. He's wearing nothing but some pajama pants, the waistband of his boxers poking out to say hello. A half-gone cigarette sits between two fingers on his right hand, and he brings it to his lips for a long drag.
"It was alright, got a couple odd looks from clients today, though." You sigh, putting your wallet and keys on the table. You've been working at the hair salon downtown, getting the job shortly before coming out to Eddie. Your coworkers are nice, sweet older ladies that took you in with open arms. Customers give you sour stares at times, or make the occasional comment. You try to ignore them, truly. But it's so hard to shut out the bigots when they make it a mission to let you know you don't belong. It's even worse outside of work. People often cross the street to avoid you, or call you 'fag', 'tranny' or 'freak'. Luckily Eddie isn't around much when that happens, you know he'd be getting arrested for assault left and right if he was.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. People are jerks." He gets up from the couch after stubbing out his cig, walking over to give you a comforting hug.
"It's fine. It's not so bad." You say unconvincingly. You nuzzle against his chest, trying to forget how awful today actually was.
"Y/N, I know what this podunk town is like. You don't have to pretend it's okay for my sake. I'm here to take care of you. So, if something's bothering you, please tell me." Eddie says sternly, giving you a serious look.
"Look, obviously it bothers me when people stare or call me names. But what can I do about it, Eds? We both know the people here are going to think what they want to. We're outnumbered. All I can do is pretend it doesn't get to me, otherwise they win." You reply, frustration lacing your tone.
He sighs, nodding in agreement. "I know, love. I just hate to see you treated so poorly. If people only got to know you, they'd see what I see." He smiles, raising a hand to cup your cheek.
"And what do you see, baby?" You ask, biting your lip through a smirk.
"I see a handsome young man, with the biggest heart in the world. A man who's kind, and thoughtful, and deserves everything he wants." He says sweetly, leaning in to give you a tender kiss. Your lips meet, and you melt against him instantly. Your arms go around his shoulders, pulling him closer. His hands rest on your hips, squeezing your sides through your clothes. You stay like this for a moment, your heads turning languidly as your tongues roll against one another. He tastes so good, like tobacco and the candies he snacks on all day. He pulls away, remembering what time it is. "C'mon, darling. You've gotta take your binder off, and it's 'T' day." He gently reminds you.
"Do I really have to take it off? I don't wanna see them, Eds." You hold back a sob at the thought of being faced with your breasts again. You want to get them removed, but you haven't been approved for the surgery yet. And it's gonna be quite some time before you make it to that step in your transition.
"I know, sweetheart. But it's not safe to keep it on for so long. You know that. But I'll sing to you, 'kay?" He coos, brushing away a stray tear that's fallen down your cheek.
"Okay." You nod, your bottom lip quivering. As much as you love returning home to your boyfriend, this is the one thing you do every day that feels like torture. But he's right, you're already feeling the uncomfortable squeeze of over-use compressing against your chest. He leads you gently by the hand, all the way to your shared bedroom. He closes the door, standing in front of you.
"You ready, babe?" He asks, checking your eyes to make sure you're comfortable with him helping you. So far, you've allowed him to assist you every time in removing whatever you've been using to bind your chest. Whether it's bandage tape, or the proper binder you managed to get, he's made a ritual out of it. His hands will carefully remove your clothes from the day, and redress you in some comfortable pajamas. He sings to you the whole time, a semi-modified version of "Beautiful Boy" by John Lennon.
"Yes." You exhale sharply, waiting for his hands to reach for the hem of your shirt. He begins to sing, and you let the velveteen words flow from his lips to your ears. You focus on how gorgeous they sound coming from him, and appreciate how they're sung just for you.
"Close your eyes, have no fear. The monsters are gone, they're on the run and your love is here." He recites softly, pulling your shirt over your head. You lift your arms to help out, closing your eyes to avoid looking at your chest. "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy." He continues, tossing your shirt on the dresser so you have it for tomorrow. He gets closer to you, caressing your sides with his fingertips.
"Keep going, Eds." You say, barely above a whisper. Your arms sit awkwardly, a couple inches outward from your body.
"Out on the ocean, sailing away. I can hardly wait to see how much you change. But I guess we'll both just have to be patient." Eddie slides his hands to the bottom of your binder, just barely slipping beneath the thick fabric. You breath hitches, another couple of tears falling down your face. You keep your eyes squeezed shut all the while, frantically nodding to tell him to just do it already. He lifts the sides of the binder, avoiding touching your breasts whatsoever as he pulls it over your head. A fresh rush of oxygen enters your lungs, but you can feel the lumps of tissue bounce against you. The feeling makes your heart ache, longing for the day where you'll never have to feel it again.
"Fuck." You mutter through clenched teeth, your stomach turning slightly.
"I know, angel. We're almost done, just bear with me." He soothes, his heart breaking at the pained expression on your face. "'Cause it's a long way to go, a hard row to hoe. Yes it's a long way to go, but in the meantime..." Eddie keeps singing, which slowly relaxes you. He reaches for the baggy band tee he set aside for you, unfolding it to bring over your head. "Arms up, Y/N." He asks politely, and you obey. You feel the comfortable material slip over your torso, large and loose enough to obscure the fact that you have anything on your chest at all.
"Thank you." You exhale, opening your eyes.
"We're not done quite yet, babe. But at least this next part isn't so bad." He takes your pajama bottoms from the dresser, and climbs into bed. "C'mere, love." He says, spreading his legs for you to sit between them. You do as he asks, after removing your shoes and hair-covered jeans.
You get in position, and Eddie hands you the little syringe and dose of testosterone for the week from the night table. You remove the cap from the needle, and bring the syringe to the top of the vial. You pull back the plunger to fill it expertly as you've done many times before. "Okay, all set." You state, putting the empty vial beside you on the mattress.
"Before you take your 'T', take my hand. Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans..." He trails off, reaching for your free hand to hold for a moment. You squeeze it tightly, taking a deep breath before you let go. You grab hold of your thigh, pinching the skin so you'll inject into the right area. Your breath shudders as you bring the needle to your desired mark.
"Mmm." You grunt as the thin metal stings when it punctures your skin. Eddie holds your sides again to keep you calm.
"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy." He finishes his song, watching as the syringe empties into your body. You pull the needle out once you're finished, sighing in relief as you toss the vial and syringe away in the trash beside the bed. "Good job, baby. My brave, handsome man." He presses a kiss to your neck, holding you close as a few more tears escape your eyes.
"Thank you for helping me like always, Eds. You're the best boyfriend in the world." You say as you wipe the salty tracks away, sniffling lightly. You reach for the pants Eddie prepared for you, slipping them over your legs.
"It's the least I can do, darling. You mean everything to me." He keeps kissing your neck, setting your skin alight with his plush lips. "So, should we order some Chinese for dinner? We can get those massive egg rolls you like." Eddie suggests, as he does every Thursday, to reward you for being so courageous.
"You've read my mind, Eds. I'm starving." You reply, your stomach gurgling in agreement. You both leave the bedroom, and you plop onto the couch while Eddie places your usual order. Sesame chicken, with extra fried rice, and two orders of egg rolls. Your mouth waters at the thought of it. Hawkins may be lacking in many vital areas when it comes to cuisine, but if there's one thing it does perfectly, it's Chinese take-out. It takes about an hour for the food to arrive, and Eddie pays the delivery guy at the door.
"Dinner is served, darling." He says sweetly, taking the paper containers out of the bag, distributing them onto the kitchen table. You take a seat across from one another, pecking away at the food with your chopsticks. You chew mouthful after mouthful in comfortable silence for a while, allowing your hums and grunts to be sufficient conversation.
"So, what did you get up to today?" You ask as you start to feel full, realizing you'd forgotten to earlier. Eddie doesn't seem to mind, but you want him to know you prioritize him as much as he does you.
"Uh...not much. Did a few deals, took a nap. But other than that, I've just been waiting for you." Eddie replies, smirking before he takes a big bite of chicken.
"You're always waiting for me, Eds." You chuckle.
"Mmhmm, I'm a kept man now. All yours, baby." He laughs, setting down his container of food. "And I dunno 'bout you, but I'm ready to move on to dessert." He swallows, reaching across the table to take hold of your hand. Simple a touch as it is, Eddie's flesh meeting yours is absolutely electric. His eyes align with yours intensely, asking if you want to move things to the bedroom.
"You got it, babe. Just help me clean up." You smile, packing up the leftovers to shove in the fridge. Once everything is cleared away, Eddie swiftly pulls you into him. Your arms collide with his chest, and you slide your hands upwards to rest on his shoulders. "Still hungry, huh?" You ask, biting your lip playfully.
"You know it, sweetheart." His own hands wander down your back to squeeze your ass. You moan quietly at the sensation, quickly heating up in your pajamas. Eddie roughly presses his lips to yours. Another muted moan escapes you, and he pushes things further. He's slowly walking you backwards to your room, still kissing you the whole way. He moves on to your neck, nipping and sucking your flesh until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.
"Eddie." You whimper, savoring the warmth and sting of his tongue and teeth working your skin into dark purple marks. You let yourself fall onto the mattress, taking Eddie down with you. You don't even bother to close the door, Wayne's long gone for his shift at the plant tonight. You bounce slightly as you land, and you ignore the feeling of the sacks of fat on your chest moving with the rest of you. You don't want to stop enjoying this for anything.
"You doin' alright, darling? We can put your binder back on if you'd be more comfortable." Eddie offers, noting your body stiffening slightly after you landed on the bed.
"I'm fine, Eds. Just don't stop, please." You beg, wanting him to keep going. You're becoming very aroused with every passing second. You've noticed your sex drive has turned up significantly since starting your treatments. Eddie doesn't make a big deal out of it, but you can tell he enjoys it immensely. You two have always been pretty active, even prior to your transition, but the last couple months have taken things to a whole other level.
"I love it when you beg for me, such a good boy." Eddie says huskily while his lips brush against your chin. "Tell me what you want, babe. I'll do anything you ask." He says, his boner poking into your inner thigh.
"I want your fingers inside me, love. They feel so good." You whine, suddenly becoming very needy. You want him in every possible way, he's your everything. Your mind is swimming with lust-drenched thoughts. The anticipation of having Eddie touch you in all the ways you like builds rapidly within you.
"Take off your pants, baby, and lie down for me." Eddie says in a gentle command. He stands up, allowing you to get in position. You remove your pants and underwear, leaving your shirt on. You scoot backwards to lay your head on the pillows. He follows close behind, crawling over you on his hands and knees. Eddie looks over you, letting his eyes wander down your body. He focuses on your gorgeous face and lower half, noting your arousal on full view for him as your legs spread open. "So turned on already, and I've barely even touched you." He observes aloud, his gaze trailing back up to yours.
"Just for you, Eds." You reply, staring helplessly up at him. His hair hangs down on the sides of his face, brushing against you in a ticklish manner. You reach a hand up to cup his cheek, inviting him to touch you again. He leans down, pressing his pillowy lips to yours. One of his hands rests at your hip, while the other travels to the place you've been wanting him this whole time. His long, calloused fingers graze your enlarged bundle of nerves ever-so-slightly, and you moan loudly against his mouth. He slowly drags his digits around the area, eating up every desperate sound that escapes your lungs. It's heating up quickly in here, a sheen of sweat beginning to lather itself along the backs of your knees and under your shirt. He breaks away from your mouth, moving on to your neck again.
He spreads your slick around, repeatedly sending jolts of pleasure through you. "I love your sexy noises, Y/N. They drive me absolutely crazy." Eddie coos between kisses on your throat. His cock is unbearably hard, leaking precum into his boxers as he waits to have his turn. Hearing you moan and whimper his name pushes him further and further toward losing it altogether.
"Please stop teasing, babe. I need you." You whine, bucking your hips upwards when he runs over your entrance. He firmly presses you back down with his free hand.
"Of course, darling. Anything you want." He says, before pressing one finger into you. He watches your face twist in pleasure, curling his knuckles within your walls to stroke your sweet spot.
"Eddie. Give me more, go faster." You moan, holding his stare as he gradually picks up speed. He does as you ask, feeding another finger to your hungry insides. He amps up the pace as well, wet noises mixing in the air with your vulgar exclamations.
"Such a good boy for me, taking my fingers so well." He praises, smiling down at you lovingly. "You're so handsome, and sexy, the most amazing man I've ever known. Life meant very little until I met you, Y/N." Eddie has a habit of getting rather sentimental when he showers you with affection. You love every second of it, knowing that you both mean so much to one another is a powerful thing.
"And you're all of those things and more, Eddie. You've been so supportive of me, helping me every day as I become the man I want to be. I don't know where I'd be without you." You reply, keeping your thoughts straight to meet his adoring words with your own. You pull his head back down to yours, kissing him hard to turn up the temperature. Your other hand snakes between your bodies, running down his bare chest and stomach, feeling every ridge and curve of muscle and soft skin. You keep traveling downwards, ghosting over his throbbing erection.
"Fuck, baby. Want me that bad, huh? So goddamn needy." He groans, continuing to work you over with his fingers. "Gotta be a good boy and cum for me before I fuck you. You know that, sweetheart." He breathes out with a dominating smirk, his lips just barely brushing yours as he speaks. Your mouth falls open, taking his hot exhales in. Your head lightens at the limited oxygen between you, and you fully take hold of his dick through his pants.
"I just love how you feel, darling. You fill me up so well. My big, strong man." You goad him, building yourself up towards your prerequisite orgasm. You can't get enough of everything you and Eddie do together. Groping, kissing, dirty talk, among other things. It's like a drug, leaving you craving another hit again and again. "Take your clothes off, baby. I wanna touch you." You plead, feeling your high approaching at a steady pace.
"Well...if you insist." He chuckles, reaching down to pull his pants and underwear off with one hand. He kicks them away, and you immediately take his exposed cock in your grasp. "Shit, you weren't kidding." Eddie groans, making you laugh quietly as his eyes roll back into his head for a moment. He's already so wound up from hearing and touching you, it won't take much to make him lose control.
"C'mere." You say abruptly, lacing your other hand into his thick hair. You get a good grip, and yank his head downwards so you can have access to his neck. You latch on, sucking a large hickey onto his supple skin.
"God, you're gonna be the death of me." He whimpers, savoring the sensation of you attacking his neck and jerking him off while holding him down. You stay like this, letting yourselves focus on every single thought and feeling that bubbles up from your animalistic movements. You're getting so close, and you can't stop moaning against Eddie as you keep biting and licking him as he did earlier to you. He can sense your insides fluttering around him ever-so-slightly as your body prepares for release. "Almost there, sweetheart. Be a good boy for me, we can cum together." He huffs, his body coated in sweat as his stomach begins to tense. He's going to make quite the mess, and he definitely looks forward to it.
"Just a little faster, baby. I'll be such a good boy for you. I'm so fucking close." You whine in his ear, waiting for the knot within you to finally snap. It's just seconds away, all you need is a little push. He obeys your request, thrusting his fingers deeper and harder into you. "Oh, god! Just like that- fuck!" You cry out, the tangle of pleasure splintering off into thousands of flaming strands throughout your body. Your hips buck upwards, causing you to brush against Eddie's dick in your proximity. His fingers slip out of you from your squirming, and your juices manage to spill onto his length in the process. The feeling of the warm fluid, along with your fucked-out expression sends him flying over the edge.
"Y/N!" He grunts as his pelvis jolts against your hand. Eddie's eyes screw shut, leaning on his arms to keep himself upright as his orgasm takes over. His load lands warmly on your abdomen, marking you as his in sticky streaks of white. The idea of this gives you an intense thrill, to know you belong to him, as he belongs to you.
"I love it when you cum on me, baby. It's so fuckin' hot." You pant as your high recedes into nothing, letting Eddie's head and dick out of your grip. He gulps in air, rolling over to lay beside you while he catches his breath.
Your knees are still tented, legs spread open lazily. Eddie reaches over to the night table, pawing for one of the many packs of smokes he has lying around the trailer. "And I love frosting you like a donut, darling." He chuckles, pulling two cigs out of the pack. He sticks them both in his mouth, flicking his lighter to ignite the ends. He passes one off to you, which you gladly take.
"Must you always be so crude, Eds?" You laugh, taking a long drag of your cigarette. The nicotine hits you swiftly and easily, dizzying your head.
"'Fraid so, hot stuff. What you see is what you get. You know you love me for it." He smiles, turning his head to look at you.
"I love you for lots of things. Well...everything, actually." You clarify, exhaling a large cloud of smoke up towards the ceiling.
"Everything? Even when I'm being an ass? Or when I'm all grumpy because I haven't eaten all day? Or when I hide your keys, so you can't go to work unless you make out with me?" He asks, providing many examples of behavior he exhibits that may or may not irritate you to no end.
"Yes, Eddie. Even with all of those things, I love you more than I ever thought humanly possible." You say kindly, taking his empty hand in yours.
"I love you too, Y/N. You're my whole world." His thumb runs over your knuckles. You both continue to smoke, laying beside each other just like this. The minutes tick past, the paper and tobacco dwindling down to nothing as a gray haze fills the room. You put your spent butts out in the ashtray, and Eddie returns to his spot between your legs. He gazes at the mess he made on you minutes ago, wiping up one of the thick droplets with his thumb. He brings it to your lips, waiting for you to lick it off. "Open." He commands.
You listen to his orders, keeping perfect eye-contact as you accept his release into your mouth. Your tongue wanders around the pad of his thumb, rolling to taste the salty fluid. "Mmm." You moan as you swallow, he's always tasted so good.
"Good boy." Eddie praises, slowly pulling his thumb out of your mouth. You take his dick in your hand once more, finding he's already rock hard again. "Fuck, Y/N. Someone's getting greedy." He chuckles through a groan.
"I can't get enough of you, baby. Can you blame me?" You say sweetly, giving him a loving look.
"I guess not, my love. You're pretty damn addictive, too, if I'm honest." He replies, moving your hand to take over. He brings his tip to your dripping hole, rubbing against it to amp you both up for a moment.
"Eddie, please don't tease." You whine, your hips stuttering as you're still sensitive from earlier.
"Then beg, Y/N. Use your words, and you'll get what you want." He says darkly, continuing to spread your slick around with his tip. He moans at the sensation, using all his willpower to hold back from plunging into you.
"Please fuck me, Eddie. I need your cock inside me, so fucking bad." You plead, finding no reason to hide the intense desire in your voice. Eddie would probably keep holding back if you did.
"You got it, sweetheart." He replies, smirking at your whimpered assertion. He pushes his dick into you, taking his time. You moan as he fills you to the brim, stretching your walls deliciously. His breath catches at how warm and tight you are around him, swallowing hard as he bottoms out. "Shit, you're so perfect inside, baby."
"You always say that, darling." You reply in a cheeky tone.
"Well, pardon me for paying you a compliment." Eddie laughs, lowering his head to pepper kisses on your neck while you adjust to him. You run your hands up and down his back, tracing his shoulder blades and spine with the tips of your fingers. You sigh blissfully at how tender he's being, worshiping you with his lips as your insides relax.
"Mmm, wouldn't mind a few more while you're at it. Preferably after you start moving, though." You say in playful attitude, which draws his head up to look at you with a dangerous grin.
"Someone's bossy today. I thought that was my job." He almost growls, pulling out and slamming back into you on his final words.
"Fuck." You moan out at his tip hitting your sweet spot perfectly. Your nails dig into his back, crescent-shaped marks sure to be left behind. "Sorry, babe. I'd hate to put you out of work." You giggle, waiting for him to pick up the pace.
"You make me sound like a prostitute. Should I be offended?" He chuckles back, thrusting roughly once more.
You gasp, finding it difficult to keep up this flirty conversation. "Not at all, Eds. I'd never be able to afford you if you were."
"I'm that good, huh? Maybe I oughta start charging." Eddie thrusts again, just as hard and deep as those before it. He's warming you up, distracting you so he can blow your mind to bits when he really gets going.
"Charming as always, darling." You quip, rolling your eyes. You're hoping he'll speed up soon. All this buildup is driving you insane.
"Man, you're acting brattier than usual. Do I need to punish you, angel?" He asks, half-warning, half-asking you to let him release the darker side of him that he keeps tucked away most of the time. You can see in his eyes that he really wants this, and you'd be lying if you pretended you don't want it just as much.
"Do your worst, Munson." You smirk, prepared for whatever he has in store. His hands abruptly move to grip your waist and your throat, making you gasp in surprise. His rings dig into your hip, firm enough to leave bruises. His other hand waits patiently to squeeze your neck, biding its time for the opportune moment to choke you.
"You're gonna regret that, sweetheart." He says in a husky tone, suddenly thrusting roughly into you and setting a cruel pace.
"Jesus- fuck, Eddie." You moan, wrapping your legs around him to bring him closer. His dick slamming into you feels amazing, but you want more. "You gonna use that hand, or is it just for decoration?" You're working overtime in antagonizing Eddie, pushing his buttons. The way it makes him frustrated, and have to put you in your place, gives you a massive rush.
His jaw tightens at your taunting words. Eddie's eyes bore into yours intensely, and he wants to wipe that smug smile off your goddamn face. He begins to squeeze the sides of your throat, harder than he usually starts with. Your head lightens at the lack of oxygen, making you groan as loud as you can around his large fingers. "Naughty boy, you know better than to talk to me like that. But I wanna hear you say it. Who's in charge, baby?" He demands, continuing to fuck you senseless as he waits for you to answer him. He loosens his grip on your throat so you can speak.
"You are." You reply, still smiling wide as you don't really mean it. He knows you're still messing with him, so he takes hold of your chin. He squishes your face in his grip, almost hurting you. He puts himself as close as he can to you, raw, animal instinct taking over. You feel like a rabbit caught by the foot by a wolf, utterly helpless to your demise. Your heart pounds beyond belief, adrenaline pumping through your veins.
"Who's in charge, Y/N?" He growls, clenching his teeth. He can feel how wet this little game of yours is making you, and the sensation of you lubing him up more with every shove of his cock into you is melting his brain.
"You are." You reply, poking your tongue out to lick one of his fingers. You still haven't submitted to him, if anything, you want to keep going further.
Eddie grunts in frustration, pulling out of you altogether. He flips you over onto your stomach, pinning your torso down while your ass is angled upwards. Before you can fully register his actions, his hand comes down onto your left ass cheek. It lands on your flesh with a loud crack, making you yelp. You would squirm, but Eddie's holding you firmly in place using all his strength. "You've been a bad boy, sweetheart. Now, I want you to tell me who's fucking in charge here." He says, before smacking your other ass cheek just as hard.
"You are, Eddie." You say as the buzzing sting sits on your flesh. You imagine there's large, red hand prints on your behind. And all you can think is how much darker you want them to be.
"Again." He demands, spanking you again, a little gentler this time.
"That one was weak, Eds. Try harder." You retort, and he sure as shit gives you what you ask for. He slaps the other side, even harder than the first time. "Fuck." You whimper, the pain from his calloused hands smacking you is exquisite.
"Had enough yet, baby? Or are you still misbehaving?" He asks, leaning down to speak in your ear. His tone is low and feral, waiting anxiously for you to surrender. But you can't give in that easily.
"I think you're holding back, darling. You wanna be in charge? Then fucking do it." You say seductively, and you know you've got him hook, line, and sinker.
"Your wish is my command, angel. Don't say I didn't warn you." And without another word, he rams his cock into you with extreme force. He takes hold of your waist, still pinning your torso to the bed. Your face presses sideways into the pillows, making it hard to breathe.
"Oh, god!" You cry out, eating up every way Eddie uses your body. He fucking you unbelievably hard, possibly harder than he ever has, though you've driven him near this point a few times before. Your hands fist the sheets and blankets below you, trying to keep a good grip. Eddie's hands alternate slapping both sides of your ass as he jackhammers into you. You moan and call his name helplessly, finding your second orgasm sneaking up around the corner.
"Do I need to ask you again, or are you gonna be a good boy for me?" Eddie says breathlessly, sweat dripping down his forehead as he goes harder than he ever thought possible. You've made something within him snap, unlocking an entirely new side of him he didn't know he had. He's always been rough, and dominating, but this is different, primal.
"You're in charge, Eddie. You're so big, and strong, and you fuck me so good. Keep going, baby. I want you to ruin me, tear me apart." You whine through your moans, you truly don't want him to stop until you've snapped in two.
"Good boy, that's what I like to hear. Gonna fuck you til you can't walk, fill you up with my cum. You belong to me, angel, nobody else." He spews filthy words at you, which mingle together with the slaps of glistening skin and the loud smacks of his hands landing on your ass over and over. Tears fall from your eyes, he's gonna make your butt so sore you can't even sit down. And you're gonna thank him for it.
"Only you, Eddie. No one else can make me feel this good. No one else can satisfy me like you." You reply, your lustful confessions pushing him further toward the edge. His thrusts are growing unfocused, and you can tell he's almost there. You're close behind, but you need him to do more to get you there at the same time. "Choke me, Eds. I wanna cum with you, feel you mark me as yours." You beg, hoping he'll give you what you want despite disobeying him tonight.
"Only because I love to hear you beg, sweetheart." He chuckles, laying his body over yours. His elbow keeps you trapped in place, while his hand creeps up to your throat again. He cuts off your oxygen, amplifying every sensation as you feel a wave of ecstasy washing over you. You let out a strangled moan, your knees buckling as your high takes you down into pleasure-filled depths. Your walls squeeze on Eddie's dick, milking him for all he's worth. "Fuck, Y/N. Such a good boy, soaking my cock." He groans, his hips bucking erratically into you as his load spurts into your throbbing hole. Your release mixes with his, threatening to spill out once he leaves you. You both can't wait to taste it, it's always sweeter than honey.
Eddie lets go of your throat, allowing your noises to be heard at full volume. He's still thrusting into you, turning your fluids into a sticky paste that's dripping down the insides of your thighs. "Jesus, Eds. You're gonna make me cum again if you keep going." You warn, your legs trembling in the aftershocks. You're still sparking, which can easily turn into engulfing flames if he doesn't stop.
"Don't threaten me with a good time, angel." He says, taking your words as a challenge. He loves making you lose it as much as he can, licking you clean afterwards is one of his favorite things. He thrusts faster again, groaning at how sensitive his dick is. It's threatening to go soft any second now, but he can't help himself. He needs to feel you lose it again.
"Eddie, oh, God! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" You shout, clamping down on his cock as your third orgasm makes you explode from the inside out. Another dose of your arousal flows out, making even more of a mess that's already run down your legs. You can't breathe for a good ten seconds, your eyes rolling shut as you almost black out.
"Shit, that's a good boy." He groans, allowing himself to fall out of you. His body goes backwards, landing like an exhausted starfish behind you. Your ass still sits in the air, and you pulsate helplessly around nothing as stars block out your vision. You can't think, or speak, all you know is spent bliss. You both lay in your current positions for what feels like hours, breathing heavily while you try to get your hearts to slow down. "You good, Y/N?" Eddie asks, bringing his head up to check on you. You still haven't moved, and he can see the streaks of cum gleaming all over your entrance and thighs. He watches your hole clench beyond your control, forcing more of your cum out of it in lazy drips. "Holy shit, that's a pretty picture." He says in awe, his eyes dilating with lust.
You feel his weight shift on the bed, and are taken by surprise when he starts licking all around your crotch and thighs to clean you up. "Fuck!" You yelp at the overstimulation, not expecting Eddie to use his tongue on you, especially so hungrily. Your body jolts every time he brushes your bundle of nerves, and you make endless whimpers in the process.
"We taste so good, baby." He groans, bringing his fingers over to scrape some of the nectar off your leg. He crawls up the bed, slowly presenting his digits before your lips. You open your mouth without thinking, and you suck away every last bit of the fluids. You moan at the musky flavor, allowing yourself to lay down flat on your stomach as your mind returns to reality. 
"Well, that was amazing, to say the least." You finally speak, though you're still feeling rather foggy.
"It sure was, babe. I'll be right back." He says, standing up off the bed. He walks down the hall completely naked, returning with a damp cloth from the bathroom. "Roll over, Y/N, I gotta clean you up." He says kindly, kneeling before you as you flip your body. Your ass rubs uncomfortably against the sheets, making you wince. "Sorry, love. But to be fair, you did ask for it." He chuckles, bringing the warm cloth to your lower half, wiping away any excess cum and sweat.
"Oh, I know I did. And I have no regrets." You smile back, slipping your pajamas back on once he's finished. He tosses the rag into the hamper by his dresser, and closes the bedroom door. He climbs back into bed beside you, lighting another round of cigarettes. "You were fantastic, by the way. Remind me to piss you off in bed more often." You chuckle, taking a long, deep drag from your cig.
"Please do. I had a lot of fun doing that. I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, worried he may have gone a tad too far.
"No, not any more than I wanted you to be. I would've told you to stop if I couldn't take it." You reply, scooting as close to him as you can possibly get. You plant a warm kiss to his lips after he inhales from his cigarette, allowing him to blow the smoke into your mouth. You accept it into your own lungs, before letting it flow out through your nose. "I love you, Eddie." You speak sweetly, giving him a meaningful look.
"I love you too, Y/N." Eddie says, taking hold of your free hand.
"Forever and always." You say together, smiling brighter than the sun in your contented afterglow.
The end.
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