#a group of lesbians that have faced so much hatred

[vintage-bentley]

Just saw a “trans butch dyke, dominant/top”

Okay so a gender conforming straight man who wants to be dominant when having sex. Shocking.

[tan1shere]

Make You

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: first fic for my lil kinktober ... tanntober? No that's stupid everyone else's sounds cute mine sounds busted 🥰 anyways PLEASE ENJOY 😈

Summary: you hated eachother.. so it seemed.

Warnings: smut, hate sex ?, bondage, rough Billie, fingering.

Masterlist - Halloween ML

I hate you...

Yeah. Turns me on

You were really good friends with Finneas and Claudia. So you were around quite a bit. And tonight was another small party at theirs, they'd often have a tiny one with the friend group plus some others. So you ofcourse knew Billie. Did you two get along? Nope, and here's why.

For some reason when you first became friends with them Billie was iffy about you. You had become friends with Claudia first, then Finneas. And suddenly you were around all the time. You were always so kind with everyone, and it seemed to bother her. She actually had no idea why she didn't like you she just didn't. Then you'd get brought up by one of them, and that started to bug her.

She was working with Finneas on some music, they were taking a break. "Y/n took this cute photo of peaches last night! She's actually good at photography-" Billies eyes roll. "Can we get back to this, please?" He stares at her. "What's your problem with her, shes so kind to you and lately you've been rude even to her face. Like fine do what you want or say what you want to me, but the poor girls done absolutely nothing to you." - "Yeah well she bugs me. How did you even meet her she kinda just spawned." He sets the mic he had in hand, down.

"Claudia was taking a pilates class and Y/n happened to be there and they got talking. Found out she lived quite close by, got to know her better and she was really sweet." Billie was getting tired of hearing about you. "We don't know what her intentions are." "Billie." She just shrugs. "What! She could be after you or something, she was getting cozy with you the other day I saw. Maybe she's going to break you and Claudia up!" Finneas looks at her like she's insane. "You really need to get to know her better. She's most definitely not after me." Her brows furrow. "And how do you know that?"

"Shes gay Billie, full blown lesbian. If anything she'd be interested in Claudia, but she isn't because she's just a decent human being, something you're kinda lacking at the moment." Maybe she was being quite over the top. She still hated you. But she might of been starting to realize why. Especially when she heard you were into girls. There was no doubt you were beautiful, too beautiful for words. When Billie was giving you dirty looks all the time she actually wasn't, in her mind she was thinking how effortlessly pretty you were. Maybe those things bugged her more so than the reason she claims to hate you for. Maybe she actually liked you but used the hatred method to get over it.

Regardless she still 'hated' you. And tonight you couldn't take it anymore. You had arrived early as usual, carrying a bag of supplies. "You didn't have to do that!" Claudia smiles at the girl. "Ofcourse i did! You know how much I love helping out." - "Ugh you're an angel." She says, helping you bring it in. Billie was there too and she couldn't help rolling her eyes, you being some perfect angel, she didn't believe it still. Even if the true reason was right infront of her. You on the other hand, had really liked Billie at first. She was gorgeous, she was talented and you admired her deeply.

That was until you found out she hated you, you kinda picked up on it with the looks and the snide comments. You tried to ignore it, saying that maybe she's just going through something. But that's just who you were, you'd always give people the benefit of the doubt. But you were strong you could handle people who mocked and criticized you when you had to. You stood up for yourself. And you sure as hell did tonight.

People started coming in the small house, crowding it ever so slightly. You had a drink in hand talking with some mutual friends you had made in the past year of knowing Finn and Claud. But you felt eyes on you. Not admiring ones, deadly ones. You turn to see it was ofcourse Billie. You wanted to ignore it but the drink was telling you to do the exact opposite. You excuse yourself from the conversation you were currently in and approach her on the couch. You never really talked to her, nor tried to. You got the impression it was pointless.

"Can we talk?" You ask so sweetly, you never had any bad intentions. But oh God she just wanted to rip that soft voice out of you. On the other hand she was a little shocked you'd even speak to her, she reluctantly said sure. Very nonchalantly, shrugging at the same time. She gets up and follows you to a quieter area. "Have I done something?" You finally ask, after months of knowing her, after months of her being crude. Yet another shrug. This wasn't going to be easy at all. "Well it sure seems as if I have, can I fix it?"

All you wanted was to be friends with people, never enemies. "Why are you so hell bent on making things perfect all the time." She finally snaps. "Billie-" "I swear you come in this house being all 'look at me I'm wonderful' When i doubt that's truly the case." You stare at her in disbelief. Finn had told you about Billie being off about you. But you never realized just how much. You swallow, unable to process her harsh words. "Well. If that's how you feel." She soon after nods. "Yup." You just scoff slightly. "Wow. Glad to know where I stand with you." Your feet go to move, when you then hear her speak.

"Hopefully really far away." The response was cold. You could feel your throat tightening, and honestly wanting to cry. But you weren't going to give her that satisfaction. "You're a bitch." You breathe out. "Right back at you." All you could think of was getting the hell out of there. You brush past people, Finneas being one of them. "Woah woah- where are you going?" His bewildered look made you sigh. "Ask your sister." You speak bluntly. Leaving after that. His brows furrow, on his way looking for her. Once he finds her he strides over. "What the fuck Billie." Eyes roll. Again.

"Oh what, did she come crying to you like a God damn baby? She came to me, I didn't start it." His head lowers, shaking it. "Jesus Billie, no she didn't come crying to me, she whooshed past heading for the door, she most definitely looked upset though. Why? Why have you got such a hatred for her for fuck sakes?" She just looks at her brother. "I dunno." He laughs slightly. "I do." Her brow raises, the left one. "Enlighten me." "You like her, but you can never deal with your feelings properly so you're pushing her away before you can fall too deep for her." Silence.

He knew her better than she knew herself, but it was true. The first time she ever did see you. Her heart was melting but she had to stop it. Maybe because of situations in the past, but she was too far into the hatred. She was genuinely believing she hated you. Even though it was a lie. "Whatever, I don't care. She started it." "No. You did, this would've never even happened if you hadn't grown this disliking bull shit. It's stupid." That was the last thing said before he leaves, Billie standing there not knowing what to do.

Nothing changed. Not even after Finneas scolded her. If anything the hatred grew, larger, causing you to hate her in the process. It was silly, but it happened. It was yet again another party, Claudia's brand had a new big release, so they were throwing a bit of a celebration. She had a small one two days ago, but decided a more boozey one would be fun. And it was at first, you were enjoying yourself. Dancing with a mutual friend, this one girl you had grown to like, Ava. A closer friend of Claudia's. She was always so bubbly and out there you loved it. Music was blasting, crowds of people. More so than the usual parties they'd throw.

A few drinks down and all you wanted to do was dance, Ava seemed to be on the same page, extending her hand out for you to grab. "Dance?" You smiled. "I thought you'd never ask!" You say loud enough over the booming music. Huge smiles were on both of your faces, but you couldn't help feeling the opposite shooting daggers into the back of your head. You sensed something. So instinctively you turn around, seeing none other than Billie. This time your eyes roll. You were so incredibly sick of her childishness. It was getting pathetic.

Your attention is soon back on Ava as her hands move to your waist, it was flirty. The whole situation. You hadn't realized Billies stare changed considering you weren't paying her any mind. It progressed into jealousy. She didn't ever want to admit that but it was true. That should be her, but she's gone too far. Screwed up too much to the point where you hated her guts. Only because she falsely hated you. It was all her dumbass fault. After a few songs you go upstairs to find the bathroom, stumbling just slightly.

Thankfully if you ever drunk too much they let you crash at theirs. Always. You were like family to them, more so Claudia. Both of your bonds were incredibly close. You come back out, but unpleasantly you met those stupid eyes. Ones that were beautiful, but attached to the person who drove you mental. Potentially in many ways..

"What do you want." - "You into her or something?" You glare at her. "Excuse me?" She presses her weight on her right leg. "Ava, she was getting quite close to you earlier." A scoff was heard from you. "Why on earth do you care. Might I mention all of a sudden, when you normally want to 'stay far away' from me." There was a slight pause, was she thinking of a response. Your eyes roll as you go to brush past her but she grabs your wrist. "Do you like her?" You try to pull. "Leave me alone Billie. Your presence is already pissing me off." She lets out a dry laugh. "Trust me, princess. Yours isn't liked a whole lot either. Don't get a big head." You wanted to scream in her face.

She was so infuriating. And even though that name was meant to be mocking you stupidly liked it. You give her one last glare before you're storming down the stairs. Her feet on your trail. You go to Ava and grab her face. "Kiss me." You say sweetly, mixed with a sultry tone. She smirked slightly. "Say no more." And she did just that, attaching her lips onto your own. Billie saw, vividly. If this was a cartoon, you'd surely see steam piping out of her ears. But why? Why on earth did this bother her so much. For someone who didn't give a fuck about you. She sure did seem to care a fuck ton.

After an hour or so you were going back up to the bathroom, making sure everything's still intact. When your wrist is being grabbed. "He!-" Then a hand was slapped against your mouth. "Zip it." Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, your instincts finally kicking in after the initial confusion. You bite her hand making her retract, pushing her back. "What the fuck is wrong with you. Do tell cuz I'm getting genuinely sick of this shit." She laughs in your face. It was cold and mocking. Just like all the other times before. "You're just a spoilt bitch you know that." Your eyes roll but she grabs your jaw. "You love rolling your eyes huh."

You push her off of you, again. "What? you're the only one who can?" - "Smart mouth." She says.

"Fucking dick." You stare at one another for a second, something shifted in the air. Something different. She slowly backs you up against the sink. No words to be said, just actions. Her eyes going over your face, eyes, cheeks nose. Lips. Your heart picks up at the current moment. The whole situation being odd. Still no words. Her eyes linger on your lips, hands eventually making contact with your hips. What were you giving in to? It felt like you were. This new found tension. Her face was incredibly close to your own. You hated that you liked this, you hated how she has you currently. You felt weak, weaker than you had been.

"I hate you." You seethed, but it was hushed. Unable to focus on forming the right sentences. "Yeah, turns me on." Your breath hitches in your throat, only visible to your mind. Glad she couldn't see how wound up you are getting. You couldn't take the slight tease. You give into everything. Leaning in to kiss her, it was intense, messy. Hot, like lava. Her hands move over your body as you shift in her touch. "Hate you so much." You say on her lips. "Sure you do." You hum. Resuming the kiss, but hers goes to your chin, jaw. Neck. You breathe out. "Hate you.." - "Just shut up." Her teeth sink into your skin, doing just as she had asked. Your mouth shut tight. Eyes doing the same.

When all of a sudden your back hits the bathroom wall. Her hands grip your wrists and shove them above your head, against the cold brick. Your shocked expression makes her laugh. "I hate you too angel, with a burning passion." Her knee presses hard against your clothed cunt, causing your mouth to fall open with a gasp. "God you make me so angry, but look at you. At the same time I just wanna fuck you senseless. This time your eyes would be rolling for a different reason." "Please." Your voice was moany, whiney. All of the above. You needed this and now. She goes to lock the door, slithering her belt out in the process.

It was her HMHAS one, so it was perfect for what she wanted to do. "Everything off." And in a heartbeat her request was fulfilled. She sighs out, making your thighs clench at how hot it sounded. "Even through all the hate I still wanted you deep down." She admitted, making you swoon for this more. "Need you." She smirks at you, how eager you have become. "Yeah? Turn around, wrists together." How could you possibly deny that. Your back faces her as your arms go behind you. She ties that same belt tightly around them, fastening it in the black lock. You were truly trapped. And she was loving it.

"You gotta stay quiet though, can't have anyone know what we are up to can we?" You look at her. "What, wouldn't want people hearing that you don't actually hate me?" Your breath soon gets caught as she grabs the end of the belt, tightening it harder. "Watch it." She not only warns with her voice but her eyes too. You glare at her slightly, eventually feeling her tug you around and sitting you on the sink counter. "Stay quiet. If you don't do exactly as I say I'll leave you here. With nothing." Your eyes fell. Deciding to stop the act and just listen. Her fingers meet your wet pussy making your head fall against the mirror. "Fuck-" You bite your lip, remember what she had said.

"Mmm, close one huh?" You bit hard, nodding slightly. Her fingers slowly make contact with your entrance wasting no time into dipping them in, harshly. She was fucking evil. She wasn't even going to try be nice by taking it slow. Ensuring some noises come out. Your lip starts to bleed and she just laughs. "You stupid girl." You wanted to slap her, and you go to do so but remember. You can't. A tiny groan leaves your throat. "Uh-huh, think again." She says, noticing you struggle in the belt. When she hears you whine, muffled by your teeth sinking into your lip.

Her pace was ungodly, sending your eyes to truly roll back. "That's it, take them like the greedy bitch you are." You retreat your teeth from its former position. "Mm, fuck you." You mindlessly say. "Oh baby, don't say things you know you can't handle." You gave up, gave up with trying to outsmart her in any way. "Billie please, just fucking ruin me." Your request had her shocked slightly. "Don't underestimate me baby." - "I plan to."

Her fingers swiftly move out of you, earning a moan at the feeling and stretch. Her Jeans hit the floor, making you look infront at the fake dick. She looked so good, staring down at you with such lust. Enjoying the fact she was way taller than you now, your form sinking into the counter. Your body slumped. Anticipating what was about to come. Preferably you. The tip of the cock touches your weeping hole, making your mind race. You didn't care anymore you needed this more than anything. "Please put it in, please Billie-" And she does. Deep. Taking things on the faster side, fucking you absolutely filthy. Your head leans back again as it hits deeper. "Shit." You mutter softly. When you heard knocking. "Everything alright in there." Your eyes widen as you hear Avas voice.

She didn't know you were in there, but Billie needed her to. She had to show what was now hers. No one else was in here fucking your brains out, it was her. Just her. So she thrusts deeper than she had that night, hitting your g-spot causing you to let out a breathy moan. Bingo. "Yep! Just had a drunken lil accident and got hurt but it's all ok." Billie then replies. What a fucking liar, a good one because Ava seemed to believe it mainly. But Billie didn't stop, not one bit. "You're so annoying." You moan again. "Am I really? I'm just so annoying, isn't it so annoying that I'm fucking you so good. Your eyes are getting a good view of the back of your head. Yeah, how annoying."

Your eyes begin to shut, but her hand fixes on your jaw, holding tight. "Still hate me huh?" "Mhmmm." You say with your teeth back on your lip. "Mm, those noises tell me otherwise." She gets the perfect angle, hitting that blissful spot deep inside you. "Billie-" You gasp. "Go on, cum all over it. Gush all your hate on my dick baby." That alone sent you insane, your back arching as her thrusts continue. "Fuckfuckfuck." You chant as you felt it coming. Your orgasm has you shaking, has her satisfied. She was in awe seeing you like this.

"Still hate me, princess?"

[molsno]

I find the notion that trans women's oppression is at least partially based on a systemic hatred of men and masculinity troubling for many reasons. the biggest reason, of course, is that misandry is not real no matter how you attempt to label or define it. but moreover, it's just flat out wrong.

it is true that many forms of transmisogyny consist of some form of misgendering. however, it's ludicrous to call it misandry just because the underlying implication is that the trans woman in question is really a man; if that were the case, then cis men and trans men would be subjected to the same oppression on the basis of their manhood. but no, the misgendering is always simply a cover for something else - something far more insidious.

if a trans woman is loud, outspoken, and argumentative, then she's accused of demonstrating her "male socialization". she's told she's guilty of "mansplaining". when a trans woman is jealous or clingy with her partner, she's accused of expressing "male entitlement" over them, and being "manipulative" and "controlling". when a trans woman is attracted to cis women and talks about her desire to have sex with them, she's accused of being "creepy" or "predatory". she's told she's being "misogynistic" by reducing women (cis women, or "real women" as is usually the implication in this scenario) to just their bodies and valuing them only for their worthiness as sex objects.

if you think about it, though, these arguments mirror regular old misogyny pretty closely! if a cis woman is loud, outspoken, and argumentative, then she's a "bitch", she's "bossy". she's told she needs to "know her place". when a cis woman is jealous or clingy with her partner, she's accused of being "crazy" and "obsessive". and indeed, when a cis woman is attracted to other cis women and talks about her desire to have sex with them, she's accused of being "creepy" or "predatory"!

so why, then, if these statements are really a form of misogyny, does the justification for them hinge on trans women's supposed "maleness"? the answer is simple: biological essentialism. this ideology, in no small part popularized in feminist and queer spaces by terfs, states that "biological males" are predestined by their very nature to prey on and dominate "biological females". and since trans women are "biologically male", it follows then that they are wolves in sheeps' clothing. any presumption of innocence or harmlessness is discarded, and trans women's actions are painted in a new light.

if you accuse a trans woman of being an infiltrator in women's spaces due to her supposed "maleness", then what you've effectively accomplished is the subjugation of an underclass of women. trans women are not considered deserving of respect, compassion, or dignity whatsoever. if you paint a trans woman as a threat to other women, then you can drum up as much outrage and violence against her as you want, and she will have no recourse. and the simple fact of the matter is that the easiest way to do this is to draw attention to her alleged proximity to "maleness".

perhaps you might be thinking that proximity to maleness being used as a justification for oppression implies that misandry actually is real. after all, aren't women of color, butch lesbians, and even black men also subjected to violence due to their perceived proximity to "maleness"?

I understand how one could make that mistake, but that notion fails to engage with the actual material reasoning behind the forms of oppression these groups face: they pose a threat to the cishet white man's absolute dominion. the root of these disparate but related forms of oppression, biological essentialism, is inherently a white supremacist, misogynistic, and conservative ideology. its purpose, much like its ilk, eugenics and phrenology, is to establish a hierarchy in society that places cishet white christian men at the top by asserting that they are inherently biologically superior to all others in every respect.

if you observe people's behavior, you can see that this ideology permeates almost every level of society. cishet white men are elevated to positions of authority without question; their motives are never scrutinized and criticized in the same way that trans women's are, or any of the other oppressed groups mentioned above. if one of these men is misogynistic, if he views women as mere sex objects to be controlled to suit his liking, he will not be punished for it; he is exercising the right that has been given to him by the society people like him have created through centuries of colonialism. even in queer spaces, men are regularly coddled, their misdeeds forgiven or excused for no real reason other than that many queer people have not questioned the assumptions they've internalized.

the notion that trans women are oppressed by misandry is laughable, really, because we are constantly made aware that, due to biological essentialism, TME people will always trust a man over us.

[thedemoninme141]

Love Me Leave Me.

This is not my writing id, I don't even write. This story was 3/4th written by my late best friend Celine, this is her id, she wrote all the stories here. She took her own life on August 20th, Her life was complicated and I do not feel comfortable sharing it with you guys, What I can share is what she wanted me to share, Her last wish in her last letter was to finish all her unfinished stories and give you guys all the love, I tried my best giving it the ending she instructed me to do, I am not a professional writer but I tried my best to finish her starting. I hope I did justice to her works.  I had a few errors autosaving this work on tumblr. I don't know much about tumblr so the better version of this story is in her AO3 account , I would recommend reading it there. Here is the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/50014339 Celine's Works are here.

2 months, It has been 2 months since you came out as a lesbian and Wednesday, who tolerated you all year already hates you for it. You never thought someone's sexuality would affect Wednesday so badly that she had unleashed a torrent of hatred you never thought possible from someone who had tolerated your presence all year.

As the truth spilt from your lips to your so-called "trusted" group of friends, the fallout had been swift and merciless. Enid, who had been your last tether to friendship, now wore a pained look in her eyes, brimming with pity and sorrow.

Your friends, once close allies, had turned their backs on you. The very bullies you thought you had escaped, the ones Wednesday had once saved you from, now saw an opportunity. They hurled cruel words at you, shoved you into the girls' restroom, and locked you in there, leaving you to fend for yourself. The sight of creepy-crawly creatures, the same ones that had filled you with dread, now invaded your room. Someone had left behind intentional proof as footprints of a disembodied hand and a pair of boots.  All these horrors could have been reported to Principal Weems, but you refrained. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, and the pain that once cut deep had numbed over time because you found another pain that cut even deeper. You found a solution, to cope with this pain, you found a greater one. A blade was all you needed, you had a collection of them already in these 2 months. Each cut, each red line, became a lifeline to relief from the relentless suffering that now consumed your existence. No one knew, not even "Detective all knowing" Wednesday, of course, you hid them in the bathroom.

The relentless bullying persisted day after day. Katherine and her siren friends, fueled by cruelty, would taunt you mercilessly in the school hallways, their taunts occasionally escalating to physical violence, leaving you sprawled on the unforgiving ground. Strange as it may sound, those physical bruises didn't hurt. What did hurt was when you entered the classroom an unknown disembodied hand dropped a bucket of real human blood on you. The classroom erupted in a chorus of cruel laughter, and even Wednesday had a smug smile on her face. She never smiled, did she? unless she was truly at peace. So yeah, you getting hurt gave her joy. The cuts were deeper that day but you were careful not to cut any vein, You had a collection of jackets now, without them you couldn't go to the classes now. You would love to cut yourself to shreds in front of Wednesday if it gave her joy, cause you loved her, she was the reason you were finally brave enough to come out.

Wednesday despised you, you made her do something she would never do, you made her hurt you. She hated how you were braver than herself to admit your feelings. Falling for someone was never part of her plan, yet you had made it happen. She resented you deeply for that, a resentment that drove her to darker actions. You hated spiders, you used to tell her how creepy they looked. You hated blood, it sent chills down your spine. You hated cuts, your pain tolerance was lower than 0. You hated bees, So she set about crafting a sinister contraption in your bathroom bathtub, a jar brimming with bees, poised to unleash their torment upon you the moment you unwittingly opened it. Her twisted plan was a desperate bid to make you feel the same way she did. That's when her eyes went to a small box, and as always curiosity filled her mind, She took the box carefully and opened it, only to find razor blades, a lot of them, and a small knife. Some of the blades had stains of dry blood on them, the blood on the knife looked recent. Always wearing jackets... Wednesday ran, she ran and ran, she had to find you, wherever you were. I love coffee, just not as bitter as you. Your voice ranged through her head. I really wish I could see you smile Your smile ran through her head. I love planting flowers, the blooming flowers make me happy. Now you wouldn't bloom yourself anymore. No no no, Wednesday didn't mean it, she couldn't know, she never thought you would turn to this way to cope with this pain, she had to find you, She had to find you, no matter where you were. She sprinted through the courtyard, desperately searching for any sign of you. Wednesday spotted Enid engaged in conversation with Ajax. She hurried over to the pair, her desperation evident in her voice.  "Enid, have you seen Y/n anywhere?" Enid's anger flared at the mere mention of your name on her lips. "Why? So that you can hurt her more?" Enid had held her grudge against Wednesday ever since the bullying had begun. "No, I..." Before Wednesday could explain herself, her gaze shifted, catching sight of you entering the school gates, a shopping bag in your hand. Without thinking, she sprinted towards you, her heart pounding. But you backed away as soon as you noticed her approach, and Wednesday couldn't help but notice the profound sadness etched in your eyes – the same eyes she had avoided for the past two painful months. "I need to speak with you," Wednesday implored, her voice trembling with sincerity. "No," you replied firmly, attempting to walk away and put distance between you two. "Please, this is important," Wednesday persisted, her desperation driving her to reach out and grab your arm in a plea for your attention. You walked as fast as you could to your dorm, You can't feel like this anymore, you have to get to your room and cope. Wednesday followed you, determined to talk to you, she can't let you cut any more.  "Y/n please!" She begged. You didn't even look back, She ran in front of you making you finally stop. "What do you want from me?" You asked, tears in your eyes, your voice broken with sorrow. The bag held close to your chest made Wednesday doubt. She looked at the empty hallway to make sure that it was only you and her and then snatched the bag away from you and emptied the contents on the floor, painkillers, sleeping pills and a new sharp knife. All the things that she liked, yet she felt so much dread in her heart. "I am sorry." She whispered, her voice shaking, You hurriedly picked all of them up before anyone could show up. "Show me." She said as you stood up. "Show me what I've done." She said as she tried to grab your hand, "Please don't." You said. "SHOW ME WHAT I'VE DONE." She said gritting her teeth in anger, but not on you, never on you, it was on her own self. She slowly grabbed your hand and took it up to herself, She removed the jacket sleeves slowly to see your arm filled with dozens of cuts, some deeper than they should've been. "Please." You cried now. She let go of your hands as she was frozen in her spot and you ran into your room.

Tears weren't stopping. Maybe another Tears weren't stopping. Maybe another Tears weren't stopping. Maybe another Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. Tears weren't stopping. Maybe a little bit deeper. The tears finally stopped.

Outside your door, Wednesday's voice trembled, the weight of the past 12 hours pressing down upon her. She cleared her throat softly before speaking. "Y/n," she said, the sound echoing through the stillness of the corridor. "I know you're in there." A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she continued, her words tinged with vulnerability.  "I am sorry, for everything." Admitting her own emotions had never been her strong suit, but she realized that acknowledging her mistakes was the first step toward repairing the damage she'd done.  "I understand that some things can't be fixed, but maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to mend what's broken and hold it together." Wednesday's voice wavered as she opened up further, her admission of feelings a rare glimpse into her inner world.  "Y/n, you made me feel things – things I've spent my entire life running from, things I've been terrified of. I never wanted to become like my parents, but now it seems like embracing those emotions might be worth it, especially if it means being with you. I was too blind to see it, too wrapped up in my hatred for love, but I know you feel the same for me. Please, just let me in... Please..." Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her, but she refused to give in to her own weakness. Wednesday's heart ached as she contemplated walking away, but then, a sudden, painful sting in her chest stopped her in her tracks. "Y/n, at least answer me, and I won't bother you anymore," she implored softly. "Y/N," she continued, desperation lacing her words, "Tell me to go away, and I will leave, nevermore, if you ask." But the only response was silence, hanging in the air like an unbreakable barrier. With trembling hands, Wednesday retrieved her lockpick, a skill she had mastered long ago. However, this time was different, her hands shook as she struggled to unlock your door. After a few tense moments, she finally succeeded. What she discovered inside, though, was more than she had braced herself for. There you lay, eyes closed, seemingly at peace on the bed, although only peace was in your expression. The room was stained red, with your blood marking the bed, the floor, and the glinting knife nearby. Even your hands bore the evidence of your anguish, but what struck Wednesday the most was your serene smile. Approaching cautiously to your lying figure, She didn't need to check for a pulse to recognize a lifeless body, but she did it anyway. She wanted to hope and she needed you. But she found none. "I am sorry," she whispered, her voice broken with regret. Her gaze shifted to the heavy sleeping pills on the floor, all still intact. It became clear that you hadn't chosen this method. You chose the painful one, leaving the easy one for her, Good. Enid and the others looked for you and Wednesday, when they found you two, you two were finally each other's, holding each other, your arm on Wednesday's waist, her arm on yours, Wednesday laying on your chest, peacefully, cause she finally found her final home.

Alternate Less Sad Ending Author's note: For Celine, the most heart-warming and accepting person I knew, I would try to write and alternative good ending to this story if you guys want. For her recent readers, Did I do it right to her style? 

[eva-does-her-best]

You are NOT immune to fear tactics just because you are on the minority side. In fact you are particularily vulnerable to them.

Shit, you know how much the influence of terfs affects us? I've grown to distrust cis women, to be afraid of them, even cis lesbians. And that can easily be reinforced with discourse to become hatred.

And that can be done to make you opposed to anything and anyone:

men (not even being trans or queer in any way makes you immune to the radfem acid spit, and this is specially serious when it causes you to discriminate against any form of masculinity, be it cis or trans or the masculine expression of someone who is not even a man)

women (be it in a misogynistic way or simply opposition caused by the fear of the power they've held upon us, used to harm others too many times. Within our community when it comes to us trans women we have failed other identities quite a lot and even been bullies at times, this is not a call for guilt but a call to be responsible and understand why others within the queer community may feel that way towards us)

fellow trans people (see all the discourse against trans men and the denial of the transandrophobia they experience, see all the transmedicalism, see the scrutiny placed upon non binary people, etc..)

intersex people (Ignoring them when they tell you you are being intersexist, being indifferent towards their struggles and the atrocities commited towards them and even fucking denying their experiences. If this is how you all behave when you are the majority comparatively then you are no better than the people who opress and discriminate us, y'all realize that, right?)

queer identities outside of the basic ones (fearmonguering about unseriousness and how "oh this will make them take away our rights, not take us seriously, you are hurting our fight" and all that kind of discourse, usually containing arguments used against us.)

Expression outside or against the binary (if you all can't even accept a woman with beard and body hair or a man with tits on a dress or a she/her man or a he/him woman you are siding with the people who forcefully impose the binary and its stereotypes onto us, often with stricter rules than those perisex cis people must follow.)

Queer people from other cultures or ethnicities (Context matters, someone else or some other group of people having a different experience with their orientation/identity/expression and talking about it is not an attempt at invalidating yours or proving you wrong, it is literally their experience and their circumstances and they should be listened to and respected. We're fucking white europeans/americans, we have to swallow our pride and admit and consider our privilege even if we are part of a discriminated minority, that does not invalidate your pain it just opens you up for empathy towards others.)

Disabled people (the sickening need to determine who is disabled and who is not, equal to what we face as queers too, the lack of care for accesibility, the denial and minimization of their experienced struggles and even traumas caused by medical professionals, etc.)

I did not expect this post to get this long, i guess I just had a lot to get out of my chest. I'm not a part of many of the identities and specificities I mentioned and probably did not represent what they go through accurately and maybe even talked way out of line, so PLEASE listen to people who actually talk about these issues as a part of those communities, don't just read this post and be done with it, i'm begging you to connect with all these people, because we are all people beyond our specificities, and come together in allyship to get vaccinated against hate discourses.

[antlered-angel]

TW: Gore, Disturbing Imagery, and mentions of violence

Disclaimer: this is for fun! I’m not doing this to “fix” the stories or designs, these are mostly headcanons of mine. Please don’t be racist in the comments because I make certain characters POC. I promise it’s just a headcanon, it won’t hurt you.

Up next, it’s the second member of the Killer Trio, Jane! I imagine Jane being afrolatina, 19 years old, and a lesbian who goes by she/her.

her outfit was heavily inspired by Twilight, which I headcanon Jane to be an unironic fan of (she’s team Alice btw and has been a fan since the first book, lowkey hates Stephanie Meyer though). I wanted to keep her dress but also wanted to add details to differentiate her more from Jeff’s design with her outfit, so I gave her a red dress with a black blazer. Ofc everyone here is scene so she gets matching converse shoes with them. Demi Lovato voice: who says I can’t wear my CONVERSE JK Jane didn’t fall into the “I’m not like other girls” trap, she fully embraces her femininity but also knows better than to wear high heels to a revenge quest. I made her buff hehehe. Out of the adults in the group, shes the shortest. It puts her at a bit of a disadvantage but she compensates for that by building up her strength. Her workout goal is to be able to punt Jeff’s ass off a building.

I tried to make her burn scars look like Jeff’s in reference to her story as well as having her wield a knife as well, but that’s where the resemblance between the two ends. Due to her hatred of Jeff, Jane tries to do as much as possible to distance herself from him while also preparing for the day she kills him. While most of her hair was intact, she chose to cut it after leaving the hospital to try to take back control of her appearance. She still has the stitches from when Jeff sliced her face open, personally maintaining them on the off chance that the wounds will heal right. Unfortunately Jane’s face was the most damaged by Jeff’s actions. She would regain full recovery of her hands and legs thanks to the doctors around her, but Jeff wanted to make sure she went through the same suffering she did. From the slits in her cheeks resembling a grin to the fire making her blind in one eye and lose an ear, the damage was done and there wasn’t much doctors could do. To protect what remains of her face, Jane uses the mask Jeff gave her. it’s one of the only things she’ll accept from him, the other being his death at her hands.

[inkyquince]

Patreon Post: You are what you smoke... Fag (Whitney)

content warning: Gay-Repressed-Bully, Asshole and Creep Whitney, Stalking, homophobia.

All the fags in this school deserved whatever Whitney gave them. Fuck, they didn’t even have to have come out, they could just be wearing something or doing anything that he thought was effeminate, or too chummy with his friends. Of course he didn’t do anything to the girls he thought could be lesbians, other than call them carpet munchers and dykes. He didn’t really give a fuck if he was sharing a changing room with a lesbian, but he did care about being seen changing by a fag.

You had become his newest target. There were some rumours of you being a crossdresser, or even one person said you would suck off anyone who gave you enough money. Fuck, some said the gloryhole in the janitor’s closet was made by you. So, you got his special treatment. Shoving you against the lockers to get past turned into shoving you into them, harassing you at every turn, no matter if it was in school, in class, or outside. It didn’t matter. You didn’t have to be so fucking loud and out about it.

Everyone in his group knew how much he had it out for you. No taking it easy on the fag.

Some of them did find it weird the intense hatred he had of you. Not that they minded. Sometimes he had some fucking great ideas. Amazing ones. Though he did seem startled whenever they found him. Like when they found him digging through your things-

where is it where the fuck is it

- before bringing out your phone and tucking it away, kicking your bag away. Letting them trash your stuff as he scrolled through your phone-

Didn't you fucking take cock pictures like a normal guy? He found enough stray pictures of you that some of the others passed around. Fuck, maybe he can get that creep Kylar’s phone, that’s where the good stuff is gonna be, he just knows it

- before tucking it into his jeans and walking out. He even fucked with Kylar, that fucking creep who was fixated on you. Busted into his locker, took his phone, ransacked everything he could find.

Rubbed his cock raw, scrolling through Kylar’s phone, thumb sweating as he nudged it against the grease stained protective screen, finding more and more. Cum barely cooling on the screen as it lay underneath him, fist slowly jerking his erection, watching. The recording of you barely started, and it wasn’t even that risque, but Whitney was no better than Kylar right now. Just you getting changed in your room, just the flash of your cock had him cumming.

Another brilliant fucking idea was to grab you after school and strip you down for the dock workers. If you enjoyed being such a fag, you’ll love being taken advantage of. Left you to be fucked, and ran off, snickering and shoving each other. Whitney wanted to go grab his smokes before joining the rest at the pub for a celebratory drink-

Fucking his fist as cock after cock was forced into your mouth, sinking into your poor hole, and fuck you were loving it. Sucking away, eyes closed, as if you were deprived of fat erections for so long. Of course you didn’t mind. The dock workers wandered off, in a good mood, tucking their dicks away as one lagged behind and unlocked you before giving you his number. Too busy wiping your face clean you didn’t notice him. Stepping closer and standing over and jerking himself to completion, gripping your hair and making you look up at him as he came all over tha pretty fucking face.

Poor Whitney though. Apparently he was going to be cut out of his inheritance unless his grades go up, so he was stuck with a tutor every friday. They raised a glass to him before tossing it back and hassling the smallest member of their group to break out their wallet and buy the next round.

No one will notice him. Hoodie up, a crumpled ten pound note in his hand, walking down the stairs of the brothel. He knows you’re in one of these. Fuck. He asks the guy by the door. He’s used to these requests. Point out the one you’re in. Shove the rumpled note in, before also wrenching his jeans down and pressing his cock through. Hot tongue. Running over his slit. Ducking down to get his balls in your mouth. You’re taking your time more, unlike when you’re at school with the hole into the janitor’s closet, when you’re worried he’s going to burst in through the door, instead of being the one you’re slowly sucking off.

You, of course, knew the truth. Took you a while to realise, but not all facades remain air tight. It wasn’t too long he finally took a step further than anonymous blowjobs and jerking off into your face to humiliate you, break into your things.

It was just a hissed order to keep quiet as he shoved you into the pub bathroom, the place somewhat spare on the weekday night. You were stunned, really, how quickly he got on his knees and yanked at your trousers, desperately taking your soft cock into his mouth and beginning to slowly suck. Eyes shut, groans of appreciation and moans slipping past his lips.

“W-Whitney-”

“Shut up.” He grumbled around your cock, his hand coming up to your balls, squeezing them a bit before rubbing a knuckle over your hole. You shivered and slowly wound your fingers into his hair and that was all he needed.

Pressed a finger into you even as you hissed and kicked a bit at the dry entry.

“F-Fuck, not like tha-”

With an irritated grunt, Whitney pulled off your cock and pinned your legs back against your chest, his glower less intimidating by all the precum smeared over his mouth.

“If I lick your ass, will you stop whining?” He snapped and you just flushed before nodding. “Good. I’m going to make you cry for my cock, fag.”

[cat-alyzing]

Lilyclaw (fusion of Goldenflower and Tigerclaw) ideas at this time:

Daughter of Sunfall and a wanderer which keeps her as the sister of Lionheart. Her mentor was Pineheart tho and him leaving hurt her A LOT. Fueled by a mix of self hatred, bullying by her new mentor Thistleclaw, and him leaving she starts hating outsiders. When she’s just brought into camp the prophet Goosefeather receives a vision of her bathed in dawn light on one side and the other covered in blood, this about the way she could’ve been.

At the beginning of the story as Bon comes into camp she is a scratched queen with a swollen flank but battle hungry look in her eyes. She had just come back from a battle with the unconscious deputy Splotchedtail in her jaws. He soon ends up dying but Spottedleaf finds a lily petal in his mouth clueing her in on his true murderer

LOTS OF REPRESSED LESBIANISM. The clans at this time are a little sexist, have a lot of double standards, super xenophobic, and push a heteronormative idea on most cats. In a better life where she was taught or had some cat to guide her she could’ve been much more of a code changer like Bon but instead she followed the trail of tragedy. Her and Spottedleaf flirt a lot, but Lilyclaw always leaves feeling trapped in her partnership with the still undecided mate of hers.

Soon she has Lynxkit (Swiftkit) and Leopardkit (OG Lynxkit) named for the powerful cats and after her foster mom Leoaprdfoot. Sadly Leopardkit dies soon after complications caused by her fighting while so pregnant, and Lynxkit barely makes it. She is angry grieving mother and Bon ends up overhearing the fight she has with Spottedleaf.

Her ideology is based on wanting a better world where she can be free but also hating it from her past traumas. She wants the clans to fuse so more cats like her with a mixed blood can be seen as just as good but also being aggressive towards half blooded cats for the aggression she faced for her parentage. Hypocrite on purpose.

At some point when she’s joined Star Leopardstrike she has Moth, Hawk and Tadpole who are all renamed. Can’t decide if she has them with Leopard as a symbolism of their pact or some other cat. Either way the kits are just older then newborns when Lilyclaw has the battle that ends her life. They still become rogues tho after a raid is done on Riverclan by a group of Bloodclan cats including Sasha but they are tracked down and taken back, over this time the river floods on their way back and Tadpole dies.

She was never given 9 lives. While Starclan is very nuanced in this they do not want the clans to unite so they refuse her. The note of Scourge dying bc of their atheism is instead towards her as Starclan says Lilyclaw has no extra lives. She’s ripped in half in the fight after far for blood is spilt, taking Fireheart’s live that canon Scourge did and dying to the two brothers attacking her. Scourge gets their iconic kill by splitting her from throat to tail a move so horrific it spawns many tales, writings, and depictions for many generations.

From her death, carnage, and death she brought to the clans she did cause change but not by her owns paws. But instead by the paws of the cats who destroyed her. Her daughter Dawnclaw takes her suffix and spreads the other side of her mother that was fiercely loving, powerful, and so so hurt. She is one of the strongest voices to never let a cat with so much potential to be powerful go down a bloodied path like that.

[ilovegirlssomuch123]

I'm not sure where i am going with this post, I'm just reflecting on something.

I'm trying to determine what I believed before peaking. I would have told you that I thought trans women are women, and if asked what a woman is I would have said that it's a societal construct stemming from the classification of birth sex into social structures such as womens groups, the expectations of women in a relationship, in a friendship, and other parts of life.

Because I thought such expectations were pointless and restrictive, I didn't believe in any sort of sanctity of restricting those categories to your birth sex, which manifested as me supporting people who identified out of such categories assigned to them.

I always knew I would never want to date a "trans woman" despite this. I thought I would always keep it to myself. In the privacy of my notes app, I wrote something that I thought would make my friends mad at me.

I felt like I had to hide... being a lesbian. I knew there was a difference, I knew what I was attracted to, and I knew it would make people upset if I said it openly.

What made me start thinking, and start reframing things in my mind was a job I had last year. It was to support and promote a program for those who have experienced sexual violence or ipv. It was so deeply important to me to help in any way possible, to the degree that my manager had to have a conversation with me about not taking on the problems of those I encountered in my job as my own.

There was, and still is nothing that greater invokes a need to help in me than someone who has experienced sexual violence. There was, and still is nothing that greater evokes anger in me than someone who has enacted sexual violence upon another.

Part of my job was research, and data synthesizing. I would make graphics to spread awareness on social media, and it lead to me realizing the horrifying extent of sexual assault on women. I had absolutely no idea before how far it went. There were days where I was sitting doing research and wanted to go into the bathroom and cry at what I found. I now knew who was raped, why they were raped, where they were raped, who raped them... both in the form of statistics and countless personal retellings of violence.

I grew a distain for men. I couldn't look at any of my male friends the same anymore. I couldn't understand why this was not at the forefront of everyone's minds, all the time. Why it was barely addressed. Why I hadn't known sooner. In a sense, that was my first peak.

That work was deeply fulfilling, and a major eye opener for me. During my research on sexual violence in the lgbt community, I found something. The rates of assault on those born male much more closely mirrored those on men than women. The most vulnerable group was afab nonbinary people, at nearly 60%. Afab nonbinary people. Those are my friends. I looked at my friends and understood their vulnerability. It terrified me. It infuriated me.

I knew somewhere in myself fundamentally then, that trans women were not women, and could not face the same level of violence and hatred that we do. I still called myself an ally then, but I came to truly understand a fundamental difference there that I would not name until months later.

That seed would not blossom until a while later. I saw a conversation on "genital preferences" on the main lesbian subreddit. I saw how much distain there was for people like me, who knew I could never be attracted to a male. I unsubbed and subscribed to a different subreddit that allowed those who defined their sexuality by sex in addition to those who defined it by "gender identity".

That subreddit was meant to be a middle ground between the main subreddit and another i had never heard of, r/truelesbian for lesbians who defined their sexuality by sex exclusively. I had never heard of it, because it had been terminated for "hate speech".

I got frustrated and I tried posting on the middle ground subreddit about how people would say nasty things about lesbians like me, only to have the post deleted. From there, i found an archive of r/truelesbian and read through it. I was astonished by how much simple sense it made. Far, far more sense than the trans community had ever made.

Within a couple days of scrolling and reading and scrolling and reading, I came to understand the issues with the community. The issues with pornography, which no one had ever even questioned for any reason in my circles. People actually *acknowledging* the vast insidious stance of misogyny in every area of life, in every part of the world.

I felt seen. I put words to my feelings, I put research to my feelings. I finally found my way out of the dark tunnel, the cult I was bound by. The rejection of reality I was bound to. I had already experienced the grief of realizing the world was not what I thought it was, so all I felt now was overwhelming relief and excitment of finding people who felt so deeply about this in a world of people who don't care.

Why did I believe it for so long? I believe it was because I was truly ignorant. I had all the pieces. I didn't understand what women were going through. Once I did, I changed. I never thought of myself as a person who falls for propaganda. No one does. I was conditioned since I was 12 years old to believe a false reality. Coincidentally, that age was when I was rejecting leaving the mormon church. I left one cult and fell into the arms of another that claimed to care about me as a lesbian.

I'm not sure I know what lesson to take from this by this point. I think I have to be further than a few months removed from my past self to understand it with the clarity of hindsight. I'm just glad I didn't let them tell me what to read in the end...

[klinefelterrible]

My brain when I'm watching porn: it's your guy with a penis time I guess. I mean you're the guy and this is your penis so rub it and cum and let's get over it okay? Yeah I know this girl looks great and you'd rather be her than him fucking her but what can you do? Oh just cum already and go do something

My brain when I see Regina/Emma post: FULL LESBIAN MODE ON

My dick when I see Regina/Emma post: I'm here but I don't belong anywhere near. I'm just attached to you and you find it hot and that's how I react okay? Don't mind me, I'm just a minor trousers inconvenience, so to speak

My sanity when I see Emma/Regina post: SO BASICALLY WHAT WE HAVE HERE IS YET ANOTHER WAY FOR YOU TO LOSE TRACK OF TIME ON STUFF THAT IS BASICALLY A GROUP HALLUCINATION

My creativity: Oh, oh, oh! Write some more incorrect quotes you love so much!

My male part of the brain: I'll just, you know, control breathing or, I don't know, just be here so you don't fall from the chair or something

My female part of the brain: AND SO EMMA GRABBED HER BOOB AND SHE'S A DORK AND REGINA IS LIKE EXCUSE ME WHAT ARE YOU DOING SHERIFF SWAN AND EMMA WAS LIKE DO YOU SEE THE RED JACKET I'M THE LESBIAN AUTHORITY HERE AND I NEED YOU MA'AM TO STRIP, WE'RE SEARCHING FOR THE EXPLOSIVES AND THIS BUTT IS THE BOMB

My male part of the brain: isn't that a Brooklyn 99 reference?

My female part of the brain: shut the fuck up Peralta, we're working here!

My creativity: I'm fine

My dick: ZzzZzZ I can sleep on attention

My brain: so basically you feel aroused but in a gay way towards two adult women and you're not happy with the whole dick thing... But for the record I didn't choose it for you, it's genetics and not very good ones

My genes: Brrrr XXY error shut the fuck up XXY cough cough

My creativity: everyone shut the fuck up we're doing something! So Emma is wearing this red jacket of course and Regina says something dry and Emma LOSES HER MIND AND SAYS THAT SHE LOVES HER AND REGINA ALLOWS EMMA TO JUST UNWRAP HER FROM CLOTHING AND BURY HER HEAD BETWEEN HER BUTTCHEEKS AND

My male brain: sorry I, uh—

My creativity: I get it, you and your dick just need to be a part of everything, you drama queen bitches

Male brain&dick: sorry

Creativity: I'm sure if we were a girl we'd bury our face in both of their asses and no one could say shit

Male and female brain parts: yeah, probably, I guess it's logical, since you're pansexual now and sort of an egg or maybe even already trans but not really you're kind of psycho and weirdo so probably

My female brain: you would just be a weird girl probably

My male brain: always on the pill, high school millionaire from dick sucking, brrr

My dick: I'm alive for you I'm awake because of you I'm alive

My female brain: would you shut the fuck up

My dick: you guys mentioned you being a girl and sucking dick I just instantly went into a horny teenager mode and well it's your fault not mine

My creativity: how about all of you just let me work and we'll deal with these thoughts when I'm asleep and you're both in charge of self-hatred when you're tidying up or cooking or doing something feminine with this masculine body

My self-hatred: bonjour

My dick: I don't feel like self-hate was a way to deal with these feelings

My female brain: it's because you're a dick

My male brain: he's just a dick and it's mainly my fault because I'm a dick too

My creativity: is this some kind of way to stop writing or could we just pause all that and let me finish the scene, please?

My dick: okay

My self-hatred: I don't even wanna be here

My female brain: Carry on

My male brain: I'll try to control myself

My creativity: And so Regina looks at woods and sees green and says FUCK YEAH I LOVE GREEN and Emma says I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU HATE GREEN and Regina is like I HATE GREEN LIME JUICE BUT THIS IS NICE and Emma takes out blanket from under her SexyAsFuckRedJacket™ and Regina kneels on it and Emma caresses her hair by the ear and yeah we can stop here we all know how it's going to end

My phone: Would you like to start BATTERY SAVING

[leam1983]

On the Marketplace of Ideas

Watching ContraPoints before bed, and I'm thinking she might - unfortunately - be right about polarized reactions.

She opens with Anita Bryant, who went on an anti-LGBTQA campaign in the seventies, concerned as she was "for America's children". In interviews, she'd claim that she actually loved gays and lesbians - enough to try and "save" them from their supposedly mortiferous ways.

It's hatred, yes, but phrased in a grating, faux-gentle and caring sort of way that probably felt like nails on a chalkboard. Compare and contrast with the way the community responded.

We're talking protests, picketing events, novelty toilet paper with her face printed on it, rotten fruits, dead cockroaches and human feces being mailed to her, her entire campaign as a promoter of Florida's citrus exports ground to a screeching halt and becoming a meme before memes existed as we know them. Bars both hetero and gay-friendly stopped serving orange juice-based cocktails because their association with OJ and Bryant was too toxic for business.

Her career was torpedoed. The El Gee Bee Tea went nuclear, more or less, some three generations before we fine folks would pioneer the Kung Pow Penis meme on the Hellsite.

In terms of actions taken, the essayist argues, there's not much difference between pro-somethings and anti-somethings. It ultimately boils down to one group trying to harm another because tempers run too hot and either group is convinced words have run their course.

In the modern day, CP equates that to JK Rowling. She, too, has been torpedoed, excoriated, vilified, mocked, jeered at and summarily ridiculed - and she more than certainly aided and abetted groups that did the very same to the LGBTQA community.

If the only distinction between two groups is who targets who, seeing as both groups have their avenues of civil discourse, their academic studies, their trench warfare scenarios and their stated victory conditions - then how do we distinguish them based on their actions?

It really makes you think: LGBTQA rights are backpedaling across the US and far scarier people are actively trying to campaign against us across Canada and America.

What's Rowling done, in comparison? She's written some books, Tweeted some shit, donated some money to asshats that don't even have so much as have national support in her home turf of Great Britain, and, oh - had her period in the limelight where her stuff was perceived as just harmless enough to give Frodo Baggins, Gandalf and a couple Uruk-Hai a case of the cold sweats.

And that period has more than likely passed, judging by the middling reactions to HBO's announcement of a 10-season epic focused on everyone's formerly favorite Gentleman Scholar in-training.

I'm not criticizing, mind you; I'm genuinely asking: Is the whole kerfuffle around Rowling much ado about nothing, at the end of the day? Even recent book critics admit her stuff's lost her lustre! Why do you think Pottermore and the Wizarding World project leads are so eager to shove more Potter down our throats? It's her one calling card and her single strongest breadline, after all!

Plus, imagine a situation where everyone on our side of the controversy behaved as sedately as the figureheads calmly explaining they were fighting for human rights on Prime Time television. Would the gays and lesbians have had an easier time at acceptance if they'd let one-off and self-professed crusaders have their day while they focused on the battles needing to be fought in the halls of power or the minds of the many?

Later on, Natalie tracks down Noah, her fellow unfortunate cited opposing party in Megan Phelps-Roper's The Witch Trials of J.K. Rowling. Even he, as a trans man, admits that more good is concretely made in focusing on what can be done in order to offer shelter, protection and care to those in the community. Openly confronting TERFS, in a sense, is somewhat less productive, in his eyes, than regrouping and strengthening our efforts at acceptance.

You have to admit; watching the bigots flail and tear their shirts open when you're just - standing there is fairly satisfying a thing, in its own right...

The only winning move is not to play - and I sometimes wish my own peers would stop giving into bigots' games. Let them play on their own, hm?

[spacerangersam]

nobody asked but here's my idea for a scooby doo show. tl:dr slice of life roadtrip

it's the 80s/90s

the gang are all 21 - 23, and have just finished university

Daphne went for journalism/creative writing, Velma went for something archeology related, Fred…something something engineering, and Shaggy did not go to uni but works at a nearby cafe

Him and Daphne were childhood friends and when she announced she was going off to uni he made a joke about going with her that she took 100% seriously, so they (and scooby) moved together, renting a place just outside the campus

Fred and Velma met during their first year as they lived in the same apartment block, bonding over their hatred of all the late night parties the other tenants keep throwing. lesbian + her himbo, a very important dynamic

Velma and Daphne met through the uni newspaper and brought the whole gang together. they have a will they won't they thing going on

So, it's the day after graduation and after the buzz of getting their diplomas, everyone is just absolutely terrified of the idea of facing the adult world.

None of them feel ready to start thinking about jobs and housing, marriage and kids and everything else their parents expect of them

So, Shaggy suggests they take a year off. Just one year to do whatever they want, have all the fun they want, and then they can face 'real' adulthood

Everyone agrees and they decide to kick off their year break with a country wide road trip in Shaggy hippie van

As they travel around though, stopping at various hotels and tourist destinations on the way, they find themselves repeatedly caught up in strange events, some supernatural and some not, and do their best to work together to figure out the truth

Maybe there's some underlying story linking most or all of the events, or maybe there's not

What's more important to me is the gang and their insecurities of not living up their parents/society's expectations of who they should be and what they should do/their fears of the futures

At the end they they realise that, hey, they've got a nice little gig going here, that they can do adulthood their way, together in their weird little hippie van with their dog, haunting down fraudsters and ghouls

To go into my characteristics of them:

Daphne - very intense and outgoing, she's the one who's usually dragging them into danger, for better or worse. She loves a good ghost story, a good alien story, a good monster- anything that's fun, weird and supernatural. That's the kind of thing she wants to write about, even if her parents don't really approve. She's big into horror movies, though she tries not to watch them around the others as they're a bit more squeamish. Coming from a rich family, they had the cash to let her try out all the hobbies she wanted growing up so she has a wide range of skills and abilities which always come in handy. She doesn't care as much about actually solving the mysteries, she just likes living in the moment and enjoying the weirdness she gets caught up in. She is absolutely the brawn of the group.

Velma is the bookworm of course, smart and level headed, she's the one who wants to actually solve the mysteries. Growing up, she devoured all the mystery / detective stories that she could, trying to solve them as she went along. She can get worked up very easily though / gets impatient so, left to her own devices, would often give up and move on. After she meets the gang they keep her motivated though, and she finally starts seeing all these mysteries to the very end. She doesn't believe in the supernatural at all initially, and even after tends to assume it's not something spooky. She also has a big love of history, obviously, and loves researching and info dumping about it. Also knows a lot about bones. It comes in handy surprisingly often.

Fred is just a nice himbo, that tweet that's like: I didn’t come here to make friends (big grin) I came here to make best friends? Yeah, that's him. Of course, he loves his traps, and mechanics outside of that. He always has to keep his hands busy, he has to, so it's not odd to find him fiddling with random scraps, trying to make something out of them when he's nor driving. He's the strategic one out of the group, the one figuring out how to put all their skills to use to take down the bad guy. He's also big into board games and somehow wins monopoly every single time.

Shaggy is simultaneously the most laid back and up tight one of the group. He considered going into culinary but thought it'd just kill his love of cooking and food. He also just like had very limited amounts of energy each day, so uni would've been hell. He's a hippie, of course he is. Cares a lot about the environment, is very anti-war etc. He keeps up to date with politics, much to everyone's shock. Is the only one of the group who knows anything about first aid and the only one who can sew. Has some angst about the fact Daphne her parents always looked down on him / thought he was holding her back and is worried he's doing that with all of them with this road trip idea. Hates anything even vaguely spooky, but does like a good cryptid

Scooby is just a dog in this one. Or may even at first he is and then after some supernatural stuff he begins to talk? Actually I like that idea more. Yeah, at the end of one episode, he randomly starts talking, everyone panics and screams, cut to black

He seems so human that the gang just start treating him like another person but then he goes to try and eat chocolate or something and everyone has to be like no! Scooby! :000

[therubymuse]

Pride 2023: On Queer Cinema & Being a Bigger Dyke

This Pride, I don't have any more closets to come bursting out of. In the space of the last ten years, I was pansexual, then I was transgender and non-binary. 7 months into my transition I shifted my identity to "trans woman", and finally, shortly after that, I came out as a lesbian. I've had a rich journey of discovery and change, and I'm really glad these revelations about who I am have stabilized with time. There is no doubt in my mind that this is who I'm meant to be. 

As we know, the world is changing. We seemed to hit a high water mark around the year I came out, in 2018, and since, we've seen the re-emergence of violent bigotry, both in the physical realm, and in the legislative realm, with the goal being no less than to disappear queer people. Trans people who exist in public spaces have been the victims of increasing instances of verbal and physical abuse, assault, even murder. It can be easy to lose hope that the world we were on the brink of in 2018, has missed it’s chance to flourish, as we’re dragged back into the 20th century by hateful politicians and angry fascists. In the last year, I don’t know a single trans person who hasn’t been bedevilled by these fears, and these questions. 

I had the opportunity to watch a cult classic film I’d never heard of this weekend, called Better Than Chocolate. Yes, thats a reference to a Sarah McLaughlin lyric. The film follows a group of queer people whose lives revolve around an LGBTQ bookstore in Port Coquitlam called 10 Percent Books, which, if you’re a native of Vancouver, you’ll recognize as analogous to Little Sisters Book & Art Emporium, a fixture in the Davie St Village for decades now. The film follows Maggie, a young woman going through her lesbian awakening, her complicated relationship with her mother, and the experiences of the other queer cast members in a city that hadn’t yet openly embraced their queer identities. Anyone familiar with queer cinema from the 1990s will know how explosively traumatic representation can be, with tropes such as bury your gays, strict moral lessons levied for queer behaviour, and sexual assaults often vividly portrayed, but Chocolate manages to avoid so many of these. Harassment is depicted, including a scene where a trans woman is confronted in a washroom, and these can be hard to watch, but the scenarios are always defused/corrected by the arrival of other cast members who stand up for and protect each other, which is quite unlike queer cinema then or now. The trans woman character is played by a cis actor, but I'm willing to forgive this because the performance was empathetic and powerful and clearly informed by real trans experiences. And as a trans woman, I've seen a lot worse. You may be wondering what one has to do with the other, and I’m getting to that. 

Watching this film and its depiction of 1990s Vancouver, and the kind of harassment queer people faced, galvanized me, because in some ways, we’ve almost come full circle back to public harassment of visibly gay, queer, or transgender people. Because the film always comes back to the message that we will protect our own, and that we have a right to be here. The same right being challenged by modern-day revivalist moral panic right-wingers. Being called groomers and pedophiles now is no different than what was said to gay and queer people in the 1980s during the last hand-wringing reaction to the increased visibility of queer people. 

And the characters in the film experience this first hand, but it doesn’t stop them from existing. I would never consider de-transition as a response to the hatred we’re seeing in the world. Because who I am, who I really am now, brings me too much joy. And they can make trans people as illegal as they want to, it isn’t going to stop us existing. Our first duty is to ourselves, and our community. We keep us safe. And making space for trans and queer joy flies directly in the face of right-wing rhetoric. They want you to think of queer people as mentally unstable, miserable, disfigured and broken people. And that is not at all who we are. 

We have returned to existence itself as an expression of resistance. We are going to define the cultural zeitgeist of queer people in this decade, or we can let them do it for us. We have a long fight ahead, but it’s not a hopeless one, as I may have felt at various points in the last year. And so I will continue to exist, and continue to define myself, in ways that bring me joy, and which other queer people can feel safe around. And I’m grateful for my queer family who already see me this way. Something the queer community has been really good at, historically, is reclaiming language that was used to attack and silence us. I mean, the sheer number of times I’ve used the word “queer” in this piece, is an indicator of our progress in that regard. It was once a slur, and now, the majority of the people in the community that I engage with use it as a means of including everyone and in defining themselves. While it’s not coming out of the closet, shifting the words and definitions we use for ourselves gives our identities power, whether you prefer many labels, a few, or an absence of them. Which is why I’ve decided to start reclaiming a word for myself that some of you may hesitate before using. But I am encouraging you to use it in reference to me. That word is dyke. 

Lesbians have a long history with this word. I understand that it originated as a slur, and that at various times it’s meant masculine or androgynous, but it also means tough, strong, resilient. And these are absolutely things I am. I will never back down from a fight to love who I choose, to be who I am, and to support my community and my loved ones in the face of hate, and I am a militant feminist in the face of patriarchal oppression. I am someone my community views as safe and protective. I’m proud of that, and I’m proud of being a woman who loves women and femme leaning humans. I’d say that makes me a fucking dyke. 

You might say that flies in the face of the image you have of me, and on the outside at least, I am pretty soft. But softness is not akin to weakness, and hardness is not strength. One of the beautiful things about our evolving understanding of the gender-universe is that things that once needed to be pinned to a binary, can now be liberated, and used to stand alone. This is another reason why I want to use dyke as one of my labels. Those who have wronged me or those I care about in the past have come face to face with my feminine rage. And it is every bit as powerful and strong delivered by a cupcake in a sundress as it is by a butch in Carhartts. You’ll know this if you’ve ever seen me truly angry. This soft woman possesses a righteous fury and an incredible strength, and anyone who wants to argue that I have no right to the word, just as terfs have told me I have no right to the word lesbian, can kiss my entire ass. Happy Pride!

Unsure of the photographer, but a picture of Lisa Ben at the first national March on Washington for Gay Rights in 1979, with a quote perfectly encapsulating how I'm feeling right now.

[syabm]

Radfems aren't exactly leftists. They're pretty roundly shunned by leftists because of their transphobia.

BZZT! Wrong!

TERFs are hated, because they hate trans ladies, who out-minority regular ladies. Non-TERF radfems have mostly been ignored as an embarrassment, like Rochester's wife in the attic.

Frankly, I think it's quite telling that the only type of feminists it's okay for mainstream progressives to openly hate are two degrees from regular feminism.

And even then, a lot of people ignore how the hatred of trans women is from hating men, and misuse "TERF" as a shorthand for "anyone considered transphobic".

Including me. And I'm a man.

Also, they don't stop being leftists just because other leftists hate them. By that logic, all the times communists and socialists have tussled means neither of those groups were leftist.

Please note that I have seen quite a few explicitly leftist radfems.

Most of my friends are leftist women. If they hate me for being a man, they hide it well. Even the lesbians.

Your experiences are not universal.

Such as, somehow, missing the Man vs Bear In The Woods meme. Or the M&Ms meme. Or Schrodinger's Rapist. Or Russian Roulette.

In fact, feminists have spent a lot of time and effort on ways to say it's perfectly fine for women to assume a man is a bad person by default.

To say any group dominated by men will be misogynist, but not being worried about the converse, ever.

I think that qualifies as "hate".

"funny how women dont turn to fascism and rightwing politics in masses because of the hatred and discrimination we are and have been faced with for centuries 🤨" Don't take things out of context.

See, I interpreted that part as the cause.

Saying women aren't becoming right wing "in masses", and it is because they have been discriminated against for centuries.

You could argue that the radfems I mentioned are an exception to the rule I pointed out of how right-wing women downplay misogyny to spite feminism, but radfems don't neatly fall on either side of the left/right divide. They're too feminist for the right and too transphobic for the left.

Here's a clue. The name.

Feminists are progressives. Radical feminists, as the name would indicate, are extremists, so they're just further along that line.

Which leaves them progressive-to-leftist, IME.

Also, Trans-Inclusionary radfems are a thing.

I'm not sure why you're devoting so much effort to addressing this one tangent, instead of my much more important and relevant points.

But I can guess.

I just want to remind you that I consider you someone who is always wrong and acts out of left-wing partisanship, so I have literally no reason to believe a word you say without very, very good evidence.

Also, my hands are cramping now, and this is already off topic, so I'm gonna stop. Night!

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[thatguywiththefaceog]

Horntober 2024-Hate Sex

The Owl House-Amity/Willow

Luz tries to be friends with both Willow and Amity; which lead to the two venting some old feeling for each other.

requested by anon

Warning the following story contains fictional minors in sexual situations. If this makes you uncomfortable or are under 18 please do not read. This story is rated E for explicit and is for adults only. This story is a complete work of fiction.

nsfw under the cut

It was after school in Hexside. Most of the other kids had left for the day. Not Amity Blight. P. E. was her final class of the day and she was taking some time to get some extra credit. She ran an extra mile, making up for lost time. It had been such a crazy semester epically with the… “Hey Amity!” human.

Amity wasn't the only one getting in some extra P. E. Luz and Willow were just behind her, running as well. Amity tried to ignore how good Luz looked while sweaty. “Luz. Willow. It's good to see you. Are you two showering too?”

“Obviously,” Willow said with more than a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Nothing like a good clean wash altering getting that stank on ya. Right ladies?”

All three girls realized two things. One, they had the showers to themselves. And two, locker room talk was another more awkward with a smaller group.

Amity had a distinct blush. “Ri-right. Well then, let's get ready.”

Each girl went to their own lockers and began to strip. As a lesbian, Amity took a peek every now and then. A boob or a butt in her line of vision. But they were always fast. And in a huge group. She could never put a face on any privates she saw. But if she looked now, she would very much know whose what looked like what. When one walked in a class sized group naked, everything just kinda blurs together and no one notices anything. But with the three of them? Oh boy.

Trying to avoid seeing anything of Luz and Willow, Amity used her memory of the room to make it to the showers while looking at the wall. Titan, Amity felt like an idiot. Unknowingly to her, Willow and Luz felt the same way and awkwardly made their way to the showers doing their best to avoid seeing anything.

Amity and the others blindly groped around for the shower knob. Willow got fed up, just turned around, and turned the shower on. And yes, she did get a good look and Amity’s and Luz’s butts.

With the shower on, the teens started washing their bodies. “Thanks for the save Willow. You've really grown,” Amity said.

“Oh I've grown have I?” Amity could hear the acidity in Willow’s voice.

“Is something wrong?” Amity turned to face her naked classmate.

“Is something wrong?! Yes somethings wrong!” Willow turned to face Amity right back. “After abandoning me! After years of bullying and mocking! Luz may like you for some fucking reason. And if she want's to toluate your pretentious ass own her own time that's fine, but we are not fucking friends.”

Willow’s rant had drawn Luz’s attention. She wasn't even pretending not to look at her naked friends fighting. Luz really should have seen this coming. The first time she had ever seen them, Amity was mercilessly bullying the poor girl. And while Luz had worked hard to find the sweet goofy nice center of Amity, Willow hadn't seen that.

“Willow, I'm sorry. But my life is complicated. I-”

“Oh poor me. My mommy is so mean to me. So that justifies me being a huge bitch to everyone else. You're not the only one with shit going on. Just the only one who can't deal with it.”

Amity felt like she got punched in her heart. She shoved her ex friend. Willow looked shocked at first. Then pissed. Willow lunged for Amity back. The water poured down their naked skin as the two 14-year-olds fell to the ground. Luz was stunned. Amity and Willow rolled around on the shower floor.

“Half a witch!”

“Bitch!”

Luz had never seen anyone look at each other with such hatred. So she was a bit surprised when the two kissed. She wasn't sure who started the kiss, but they were both into it. Open mouth, with a bit of biting involved. Luz felt an odd mix of jealousy, she was nursing a crush on Amity, and arousal.

The girls changed positions, giving Luz a better view of their bodies. Willow was thick and pudgy; her whole body jiggling With each movement. Her breasts was the largest of the three with pink areolas. Her crotch had what had to be the thickest brush Luz had ever seen on a teenager. Amity’s bust was comparable to Luz’s own, at least in size. Her nipples were a slightly brighter shade of pink. Amity clearly kept up with her grooming as she had a bald pussy. Luz stood there; most of her small breasts were covered in big dark brown areolas. Luz groomed inconsistently on Earth but here in the isles peach fuzz of various length decorated her crotch.

The others came up for air. “Fuck you.” “Fuck you.” They each growled at each other. Willow rose, and grabbed Amity’s legs. She had her in a missionary position. Willow turned her body, interlocking her legs with Amity’s. And gave Luz a great view of her amazing ass in the process. The two started grinding, their faces full of loathing, highlighted by flushed cheeks.

The pair started grinding their pussies together, groaning and muttering curses at each other. Luz shouldn't be watching her friends do something so intimate. She should just leave. Luz didn’t. Instead brought her hand to her groin and began fingering her clitoris. If Willow and Amity noticed, they said nothing of it. The three girls worked on giving themselves pleasure. As steam filled the room, the three girls came to climax. They screamed, their bodies shook. Luz fell to her knees, her fluids dripping down her thighs.

Everyone stood still for a minute, catching their breaths and letting the water wash off their slick. It was Amity who turned off the water. Without looking at any of them in the eye, she dashed back to her locker to dress.

“So are we gonna talk about..?” Luz asked.

“Nope,” Willow answered. She went off to her own locker.

Unknown to the girls a 4th figure crawled through the vents, doing his best to get some distance and the hexside students.

“Golden Guard!” Hissed the voice of Lilith, Head of the Emperor's Guild, from the magic bird on his hip. “Did you make contact with the human? Were you able to hear what she and my sister were planning?”

“Nope!” His voice came out as a little too nervous. “No humans here! No, no. Must have just missed her!”

“Curses! Meet me back at the castle, we'll form another plan.”

“Yes ma'am.” Hunter prayed that he could make it back to his room before he ran into Lilith. He didn't want to meet her in jizz soaked pants.

[the-chaos-crew]

how... how did you manage to take everything I've been feeling for the past 4 or so years into words..

although our experiences are not the same (hur-dur) I have felt a suffocating pressure, within every queer centric place or group I try and find community, that I Am Not Wanted. I Shouldn't Exist as I am and if I want to Fit In then I NEED to either detransition, or assume a non-binary identity even if it doesn't fit me. and I feel way too seen in this post cause you described that exact pressure that being masculine or a man at all is Deeply Deeply Frowned Upon in the community

I'm personally a very binary trans man. I want to grow a beard, seriously wish I was born with male genitalia, the whole shebang. and because of just how binary I am I'm shunned and shamed and embarrassed out of the spaces that are meant to be for people like me

I try telling people the roots of the community, that people like me, transsexuals are just as important as anyone else that just because I'm a binary tman doesn't exempt me from being sexualized as a little girl and threatened as a young man-- but no one listens. the community is changed the community is wildly vastly different than the community I was promised from history books and from what my parents told me the 80s and 90s gay community was like.

I have met far more trans women and non-binary people than trans men. I've only met maybe 3? 5 at most? trans men. anyone else I have met who is like me was scared by others into being nonbinary to rejecting masculinity or else they'd be hurt. and the few of us who continue to stand as men those of us who refuse to allow our masculinity and manhood ripped from us to "conform" to the perceived proper queer well we get malgendered. total social isolation, ignored by our peers, talked over and ridiculed because that's what being a man is. they failed to scare us back into the closet, failed to convince us that nonbinary is safer and more "politically correct" (literally heard that argument before which is nuts) so they turn to the last resort

I actually once upon a time tried using neo-pronouns because I was intimidated and passive aggressively convinced that I will never be queer enough if I'm not a little gender non conforming. that being binary is A Sin. but I never saw that treatment towards the trans women around me as much.

speaking of, it seems like there is some weird obsession with breaking or defying the binary. and I do really agree that the gender based society we live in is absolutely fucked but it has gotten to a point where anyone, like me, happens to enjoy or fit into the binary MUST be forced out of it or that we're only trying to conform or something. and I hate being scared of being forced to be non-binary cause I feel like I'm being transphobic to my non-binary friends and siblings. maybe that's the goal it's the goal that I'm bad or evil if I don't be the arbitrary "perfect queer"

it hurts especially when I finally try seeking local community and it goes good at first, great even,,,,, until I make a passing comment that I'm trans. I will seriously never forget it. I was at a Domino's with people I thought were new, LGBTQ friends, and I was talking to a non-binary lesbian (I'll call them A) and A was smiling and enjoying my company until I mentioned that I'm trans. they asked me to clarify, I said I'm a trans man. I want to say transsexual male but transgender man makes more sense to people. A's face immediately dropped from an interested smile, to a subtle scowl as they leaned back instead of forward, causing distance between us. telling me they honestly thought I was a cis man and how they were surprised that I was so nice when under the impression I was cis. A stopped talking to me after that and every single conversation after had more and more hints of poison and hatred lining their words

I've gotten "oh!"'s when telling about my gender in local communities. I get talked over or ignored or misgendered or malgendered in online communities. and I feel suffocated cause I can never ever find anyone like me

it's lonely. it's scary and do not get me started on the current state of U. S. politics.

kinda sucks too that I'm still a teen. I'll never be a "real" trans man until I can transition which can take years to even be a possibility.

"Affirmation" & Malgendering

"Fine, I'll 'respect' your gender, but I'll make it absolutely miserable for you. What? You don't like the way I'm 'affirming' your gender? Guess you'll have to stop being a (trans) man then."

I want to put something out there about what I call "malgendering". I see trans men talk about the phenomenon and acknowledge it as a part of antitransmasculinity but not the concept of "malgendering" itself and what it's purpose is, and as trans men and transmasculine people are especially caught in the lose-lose situation between misgendering and malgendering I think it is an important concept to establish. The erasure of transmasculinity, particularly as a unique gender and gendered experience, also serves to keep the transmasculine trapped within this double-bind, positioned between the gender binary of cis patriarchal ideas of womanhood and manhood, where for us there is only misgendering (being abused with the Woman gender) or malgendering (being abused with the Man gender).

I define malgendering as the practice of "validating" someone's gender identity only when it can be used against them and to hurt them, and malgendering almost always involves the enforcement of only the most negative sexist stereotypes available onto the victim with none of the "positives". If misgendering is forcefully pushing you back into your 'proper place' such as by calling you a "girl" or a "her" and showing you that you're really a woman through sexual assault -malgendering is scaring and traumatizing you into it by using your own gender against you. Malgendering is the realization that you don't need to misgender someone to hurt them or to punish them for the way they identity and push them towards the gender they're 'supposed' to be - you can do all that through 'validation'. It's psychological warfare on the sense of self.

This violence and abuse under the guise of "respect" and "identity affirmation" creates plausible deniability of intent and places the blame on the victim for "identifying that way", so much so that even other trans people will defend it and believe it's not maligned (especially because "but being seen as and treated as your gender is what trans rights is all about!" and "errm but its transphobic to not treat u this way?/ur misgendering urself by wanting to not be treated this way :/" with the hidden message being "don't like it? stop being trans"), even when faced with evidence of the (very much intended) effects it has on stalling and outright eliminating transmasculinity (ie. repression, detransition, suicide).

Some examples I can pull off the top of my head:

A transphobe is talking about a pregnant trans man. The whole energy of the Facebook video is 'comedic', and while calling birth the most “feminine” thing someone can do and alluding to how the trans man is really a woman, they still use he/him and call him a “guy” (in air-quotes). Not out of any respect but because the idea of a man being pregnant, calling a pregnant person a "he", and the very existence of the trans man in question, is the whole joke. In doing so, the transphobe has turned the act of using the proper pronouns and gendering him into a source of humiliation and made the experience of being properly gendered a demeaning one.

The Ukraine military situation where all males aged between 18 and 60 were banned from leaving the country and obliged to serve in the military. Trans women were denied passage out of the country "because they were men", and trans men were similarly denied passage out of the country "because they were men". With the discrepancy between invalidating the gender of trans women and "validating" the gender of trans men, you'd think the motivation behind this would be obvious - that trans people are expendable meat and it's better they die than cis people. It shouldn't of needed to be said that "I'm only affirming your gender because it allows me to put you in a position where you will likely suffer and die and put the blame for it on you" is not 'respect' or 'affirming' at all but somehow this was taken as evidence for the idea of that trans men are more 'respected' and seen as their genders than others (and are thus 'privileged').

A common one almost every trans guy deals with at some point is cis people threatening to beat trans men up (and often following through), because "If you're a man and not a woman (anymore) that means I can punch you," using the proximity to masculinity that transmasculine people claim as a justification for violence. Every other week there's a new story in online transmasculine spaces about someone having their ribs broken with "Since/if you want to be a man so bad-" preceding the attack.

The above is in a similar vein to when accounts of violence done to transmasculine people by cisgender men are brushed off and they're told something along the lines of "welcome to being a man", "that's just what men do to each other", "that's just the way things are with men", etc. along with the insistence that their attack had nothing to do with antitransmasculinity, making it an immutable problem with (cis)men as a whole - creating a sense hopelessness and that this is all they have to look forward to.

Transmasculine individuals being refused treatment, tests, or insurance for gynecological issues, especially cancer, despite the knowledge that they are transmasculine, because "men don't deal with these problems" and they don't want "men in women's spaces", and if you don't want to be 'treated like a man' and get the care you need (and not die), you're going to have to go ahead and detransition, change that M marker back to an F.

All of this functions to create contention, and eventually a rift, between the individual and their sense of gender identity. Creating an association between being gendered 'correctly' and 'respected' as your gender (and ultimately existing as a transmasculine person) with abuse, violence, helplessness, trauma, fear, isolation... and by making transmasculinity and transmanhood uninhabitable and driving a wedge between the individual and their sense of gender identity you can more easily drag them back to their 'proper' place. Plant seeds of doubt by making being transmasculine an exceedingly unhappy experience. Make them think that everything that's happened is their own fault for choosing to be transmasculine or trying to be a man. That maybe since they're so unhappy this isn't for them. That living as a transmasculine person is just too difficult and they're not cut out for it, that if they "gave up" and were to be women again things would be easier and they would be safer and happier.

This also all serves to maintain cis patriarchal ideas of gender and the gender binary and police the boundaries of manhood, in a way I can't articulate right now.

Through all this, despite being called "men" during malgendering, we are not actually perceived as such. We are always an "other". Acknowledging us as "men" is just another weapon, and why some transmascs flinch at the phrase "trans men are men". Our own genders are used to beat us.

Using a scrap from my .txt journals:

"[...] on the subject of having a core aspect of yourself taken from you and turned into a weapon to beat you with, with the result being that aspect of yourself now becoming a source of trauma and pain so you abandon it and lock it away like an awful secret, that’s exactly what happened with my gender.

Being genderless and a(nti)binary is what I’m most comfortable as, a(nti)gender is my ~real gender~, but I have to admit a lot of this is because I have been traumatized out of any gender with binary associations and have consequently come to know gender itself, and the act of gendering, as violence. Gender is but a designation for what exploitation, abuse, and violence can be enacted upon you and the justification there of. When someone asks whether you are "masc" or "femme", behind their back as they face you is a hammer in one hand, and a knife in the other, and what they are actually asking is if they can pummel you or lacerate you. When it comes to the “direction” I’m transitioning in though, it is obviously “masculine” (as much as a negation of "femininity" is always taken as stepping towards "masculinity") and you wouldn’t be entirely wrong to call me “transmasculine”, though I have been scared to death of being acknowledged as such."

My first encounter with malgendering was when I was 13 and had just started to realize I was "ftm" and looking for community online. My first exposure to any affirmation of transmasculinity was someone I came to respect reblogging a post about how Kill All Men includes trans men. This would set the precedent of the next decade of my life of existing while transmasculine. A decade of only hearing the words "trans men" and "transmasc" used negatively and as the butt of jokes that served to reinforce patriarchal ideas of gender. The consistent and relentless denial of transmasculinity as a unique gender and gendered experience, the denial of transmasculine reality especially in regards to misogyny, and continuous abuse and threats of violence, all under the guise of affirming trans men's genders as men (and affirming the gender binary in the process). A decade of having antitransmasculine sentiment fed to me in every way possible.

For me, the experiences of antitransmasculinity and malgendering from non-transmascs has effectively "chased" me out of my transmasculinity and any acknowledgement of it. For years I have hidden my transmasculinity and presumed "AGAB" out of fear, even in queer and supposedly trans-friendly spaces. I have not been able to associate with any “masculine” language in reference to myself without feeling that I am in imminent danger, have made a grave mistake, and suffocating in anticipation of punishment. I have always been scared of posting any of my art that eludes to my transmasculinity. I have always been terrified of being referred to or perceived as “transmasc”, a “trans man”, of being called a "guy" or “dude” or “bro”, of using "he/him" anywhere. All of it. Deep down on some level I do desire it, but it’s been forbidden and only aggravates existing wounds.

And this, in turn, pushed me out of associating with other transmasculine folks out of fear and internalized antitransmasculinity towards other transmasculine people, isolating me from any community or connection with anyone similar to me, exacerbating my loneliness and alienation as a youth to the point where now as an adult my ‘normal’ human social needs – connection, community, relationships, empathy – are completely broken. I don’t feel loneliness anymore, or the desire to connect to anyone, despite in ways being even more alone now than I was then. In a way I believe antitransmasculinity shaped the path of my schizoidism. Isolating and divorcing me from my transmasculinity and the world at large is what I understand to be yet another point of this type of antitransmasculine rhetoric - because when you've destabilized and isolated someone from their whole sense of self and community, they are much easier to control.