#and it's NOT that using he is misgendering me!!! like i make everyone use he for me he is my primary pronoun

[metaldevilll]

vivilly thoughts in my brained

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

the pros of going to my grandmothers funeral/celebration of life tomorrow: closure or whatever. i dont really know ive only been to two funerals in my whole life and i dont fully get what im suppsed to feel and do there

the cons: i dont talk to literally anyone on my moms side of the family. i could follow my brother around but he's gonna be mostly around my mom, who i do not talk to for a thousand reasons. and my ex-neighbors who are very openly transphobic to me will be around her. and no one on her side of the family really Gets that im trans either so like it just all sucks. i will surely get emotional because y'know, and that means that i will be emotional in front of my mom, which is bad for me. all my cousins are weird around me because we were close as kids but now no one knows how to approach me because ive only gotten more awkward and more unable to verbally speak

[trashcandroid]

Apparently my mom shares trans memes on her facebook, which is… cool I guess? But she also still posts old pictures of me all the time

[lichensbian]

film students should be hunted for sport (except my gf she's a perfect angel. but she's also dropping out)

[feixiiao]

defaulting to he/him when ur talking about somebody even if ur unsure ab their gender is hella fucking annoying dont do it on me at all i go by she/her and nothing else ☠ yall do know that they/them can be singular because its literally basic english right? you use they/them on somebody if you dont know or you're uncertain of their gender, not just if you or someone else prefers using it. its always boys too who does this. like not everyone you meet or talk about is a guy or goes by he/him just use they/them. it doesnt make u look cool it makes u look like a dumbass. they/them is gender neutral now shut the fuck up jfc

[vanweezer]

why is everyone who makes videos abt ******* transphobic like

[nightfallsystem-moved]

why do Cis People™️ think that basic respect for trans ppl is like a privilege that can be taken away from me if im "rude"

[hyperlexichypatia]

This post reminded me of it, but my partner has observed that in contemporary gender discourse, maleness is so linked to adulthood and femaleness is so linked to childhood, that there are no "boys" or "women," only "men" and "girls."

This isn't exactly new -- for as long as patriarchy has existed, women have been infantilized, and "adult woman" has been treated as something of an oxymoron. Hegemonic beauty standards for women emphasize youthfulness, if not actual neoteny, and older women are considered "too old" to be attractive without ever quite being old enough to make their own decisions. There may be cultural allowances for the occasional older "wise woman," but a "wise woman" is always dangerously close to being a madwoman, or a witch. No matter how wise a woman is, she is never quite a rational agent. As Hanna K put it, "as a woman you're always either too young or too old for things, because the perfect age is when you're a man."

But the framing of underage boys as "men" has shifted, depending on popular conceptualizations of childhood and gender roles. Sometimes children of any gender are essentially feminized and grouped with women (the entire framing of "women and children" as a category). In the U.S. in the 21st century, the rise of men's rights and aggressively sexist ideology has correlated with an increased emphasis on little boys as "men" -- thus slogans like "Teach your son to be a man before his teacher teaches him to be a woman."

Of course, thanks to ageism and patriarchy (which literally means, not "rule by men," but "rule by fathers"), boys don't get any of the social benefits of being considered "men." They don't get to vote, make their own medical decisions, or have any of their own adult rights. They might have a little more childhood freedom than girls, if they're presumed to be sturdier and less vulnerable to "predators," but, for the most part, being considered "men" as young boys doesn't really get boys any more access to adult rights. What it does get them is aggressively gender-policed, often with violence. A little boy being "a man" means that he's not allowed to wear colors, have feelings, or experience the developmental stages of childhood.

This shifts in young adulthood, as boys forced into the role of "manhood" become actual men. As I've written about, I believe the trend of considering young adults "children" is harmful to everyone, but primarily to young women, young queer and trans people, and young disabled people. Abled, cisgender, heterosexual young men are rarely denied the rights and autonomy of adulthood due to "brain maturity."

What's particularly interesting is that, because transphobes misgender trans people as their birth-assigned genders, they constantly frame trans girls as "men" and trans men as "girls." A 10 year old trans girl on her elementary school soccer team is a "MAN using MAN STRENGTH on helpless GIRLS," while a 40 year old trans man is a "Poor confused little girl." Anyone assigned male at birth is born a scary, intimidating adult, while anyone female assigned at birth never becomes old enough to make xyr own decisions.

Feminist responses have also really fluctuated. Occasionally, feminists have played into the idea of little boys as "men," especially in trans-exclusionary rhetoric, or in one notorious case where members of a women's separatist compound were warned about "a man" who turned out to be a 6-month-old infant. There's periodic discourse around "Empowering our girls" or "Raising our boys with gentle masculinity," but for the most part, my problem with mainstream feminist rhetoric in general is that it tends to frame children solely as a labor imposed on women by men, not as subjects (and specifically, as an oppressed class) at all.

Second-wave feminists pushed back hard on calling adult women "girls" -- but they didn't necessarily view "women" as capable of autonomous decision-making, either. Adult women were women, but they might still need to be protected from their own false consciousness. As laws in the U.S., around medical privacy and autonomy, like HIPAA, started more firmly linking the concepts of autonomy with legal adulthood, and fixing the age of majority at 18, third-wave feminists embraced referring to women as "girls." Sometimes this was in an intentionally empowering way ("girl power," "girl boss"), which also served to shield women (mostly white, mostly bourgeois/wealthy) from criticism of their participation in racism and capitalism. But it also served to reinforce the narrative of women as "girls" needing to be protected from "men" (and their own choices).

I'm still hoping for a feminist politic that is pro-child, pro-youth, pro-disability, pro-autonomy, pro-equality, that rejects the infantilization of women, the adultification of boys, the objectification of children, the misgendering of trans people, and the imposition of gender roles.

[femaletobitch]

💖About Miss💖 (18+)

Hello everyone, I'm a confused girl that was finally brave enough to make a blog for misgendering instead of pretending to be something I'm not!! I'm a 20 year old fakeboy cis woman here to be misgendered, deadnamed, humiliated, and feminized by anyone who wants to teach me my true nature.

Sometimes I like asking people to call me he/him (in-kink) or to stop calling me my deadname, but when this happens this should not discourage you!! It only means you need to misgender me more because I'm very confused. (And because the resistance and refusal to gender me correctly is extremely hot to me.)

If I actually don't wish to be misgendered anymore, I will specifically tell you in a way that you'll know it's out of kink. But likely if I don't want to be misgendered anymore, I'll just log off lol.

I'm not actually transphobic and I don't think trans men are women. When I say something in-kink that's feminizing towards trans men, it's not meant to be directed towards the transmasc doms into this kink or transmascs out of kink. I just say things that turn me on, if it makes you uncomfortable then just assume it's not towards you and move on. IRL I am happy with my life as a man, but on here I love to be invalidated and disrespected for being a confused girl instead🩷🩷

Kinks (a few of them):

Hucow

Detrans/misgendering

Tradwife/misogyny/patriarchy

Breast/nipple growth

Pregnancy

Birth

Deadnaming

Forced feminization

Rape kink

Large insertions

Exposure

Humiliation and degradation

Bimbofication

Limits:

Posting about me without getting explicit consent

Screenshotting my posts posting them other places without my username visible (just give me credit)

Asking me to shave, but sometimes I like shaving in a fantasy scenario

Actually detransitioning

Expecting me to do difficult tasks for you without asking or talking about it first

Asking me to use another app

I don't have a lot of limits on here because I curate my own experience online. If I don't like something I just avoid it, but I like almost all kinks that have to do with feminization. I'm not great at intros but I hope I can be the perfect girly slut for you to abuse and violate as you wish 💕💕

[vinylfoxbooks]

June 26 - Knee | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 767 TW: Dysphoria, accidental misgendering

James is the happy-go-lucky person in school. He’s the loud, energetic, backbone of the Gryffindor tower. Everyone loves him, everyone sees how smiley he is, everyone knows that James Potter is perfect. It’s one of the things that Regulus hates about him, he’s too happy, too loveable, too good at taking away his brother. 

So he’s taken aback when he comes up to the Astronomy Tower only to find James sitting on the edge of the tower, staring up at the sky, with his knees tucked up into his chest. He’s silent, but his shoulders are heaving as though he’s sobbing.

Regulus is about to turn around and walk out of the tower, but as he’s leaving, James whips around and his eyes catch Regulus’. There are tears streaming down his face, his eyes are red, and his face is puffy. And Regulus feels like he shouldn’t be seeing this.

He shouldn’t be seeing the sun break down. That’s not something that Regulus deserves. He treats James like shit. Sirius or Remus or Pete should be seeing this, not him. 

“James?” Regulus asks, taking a small step towards where James is sitting, not sure how to deal with this, “Are you okay?”

James clears his throat and sniffs, wiping at his eyes, “Yeah, I’m… fine.” 

“You’re not.”

“What do you know?”

“I know what it looks like when people cry.” Regulus hums, making his way towards James and sitting a bit away from him, “And I know that you’re not fine. I can also assume that you’re the type of person to hide all of your problems from your friends.”

James hums, “Why does it concern you.”

“I’m not your friend.” Regulus hums, lifting his chin a bit and searching for his star, “Tell me.”

“How do I know you’re not going to use it against me?” James asks, voice weak, “How do I know you’re not going to run to Sirius and tell him that I’m fucked in the head, that I’m pathetic? You love him, you hate me.” And Regulus doesn’t know what to say to that.

So he doesn’t respond for a couple seconds before he mutters, “I don’t hate you and I’m not the type of person to parade around the issues of others.”

James laughs weakly, though Regulus isn’t sure whether it’s at himself or at Regulus, “It’s nothing. I’m just being stupid and weak, bad at being a fucking normal human being.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not-” James shakes his head, “I’m not… I’m not a fucking man.”

“What do you mean?” Regulus asks, “Like, you’re a girl?” Maybe if James is trans, then Regulus will know how to help him. At least, he might. 

“No, I’m not that either.” James once again shakes his head, “That’s the fucking problem. I don’t like when people call me a guy, I hate when people call me a girl. I don’t like it.”

“You like… androgyny.” Regulus hums, “You’re not a guy, you’re not a girl.”

“I’m just…” James sniffs, “I’m just James. And I hate when people call me a man but everyone does it. I can’t- I don’t…” They take a deep breath, “I…”

“Have you told your friends this?”

“How the fuck do I do that?” James shakes their head, “They’ll think I’m fucking mental.”

“I don’t think you’re mental.” Regulus shakes his head, “And I sincerely doubt that they’ll think that. You guys are loyal to each other, to a fault. If that gets you breaking down like this, you need to tell them.”

“But I’m…”

“You’re not.” Regulus says, shaking his head and not caring just what James was going to say about themself, “Let me tell you something. I’m- I’m not a normal guy.”

James perks up, their shoulders lifting a bit, “What?”

“I was born a girl. It’s called trans. I don’t know if that’s what you are, but it’s… normal? For people like us to feel like we’re the wrong gender and if you feel like you don’t have any specific gender, I can’t say that makes you weird.” 

“Does Sirius know?”

Regulus huffs a laugh, “Sirius was the one that cut my hair and taught me the spell to hide my chest. He taught me a spell to make my hair look longer when we go home. I sincerely doubt he’d mind if you told your friends, or at least him, how you feel. You should just tell them.”

“Will you be there with me when I do?”

Regulus sighs, reluctantly wrapping his arm around their waist, “If you want me to be.”

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— WILD FLOWER

SUMMARY : dean gets hit by a spell when fighting a witch and assumes it was harmless or ineffective. he was wrong, but at least he wasn’t dead. he’s a woman now. 

PAIRING : fem!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), smut, fingering, oral sex, fem!dean (idk, that’s not a warning), misgendering?

WORD COUNT : 5.5k

A/N : title from RM’s song. this was new but very interesting, and I don’t regret it. I imagined dean as a combination of margot robbie and elizabeth olsen?? yeah, idk lol, yall can picture whoever you want. (I hate my 18 year old writing, but here it is) XXX

Dean grunted as he let himself fall into the backseat of the Impala. Sam and Y/N looked at each other and Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she debated walking into the backseat with Dean or riding shotgun. 

“Dean, keys,” Sam reached his hand inside the car and Dean whined quietly, but started to search his jeans for the keys. Y/N watched Dean struggle with finding the keys, a loving smile growing on her face, and he held them out for Sam to take at last. “Sit with him, make sure he doesn’t die or something,” Sam joked to Y/N.

“Fuck you, man,” Dean grunted, moving slightly as Y/N slipped in the backseat with him snickering at him. Dean snuggled into Y/N, mumbling softly against her thigh as she played with his hair.

“You feeling okay, D?” 

He hummed softly and nodded. “‘M just sleepy.” 

She wanted to scold him for jumping in front of her when the witch cast her spell. He knew that she couldn’t be hurt, she had no idea why he would do that. Maybe it was just a habit, but it’s been a long time since he’d treated her like that, as if she were fragile and could easily die. 

She was worried, but he eventually fell asleep with his face pressed into her stomach, curled up on his side. He looked so adorable when he slept, a little smile tugged at her lips and she took the blanket they kept in the backseat and placed it over his body. 

“Think he’s gonna be okay?” Sam asked quietly as he drove, glancing at Y/N through the rearview mirror. He also looked concerned, his eyes wide and puppy-like, his teeth chewing at the inside of his cheek.

“S’long as I’m alive, he’ll always be okay,” she promised, caressing Dean’s cheek with her thumb. Sam let out a shaky breath, relaxing in his seat while his hands flexed on the steering wheel.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Sam murmured, focusing on the road. Y/N looked away from Dean and gazed at Sam with a little smile, her eyes soft. “I’m glad you’re always here and have our backs. I know it was your choice to come with us all those years ago, but.. you’ve stayed with Dean and me—even after everything. I know anyone else woulda run for the hills, but you actually love my brother in ways I’ve never seen anyone be loved. He deserves you and you deserve him, you two make each other so happy…” 

She blinked at Sam, confused by his sudden speech, she figured he must have been anxious at Dean’s current state. Still, his words had impact. It was no secret she was head over heels for Dean and it was no secret he was just as in love with her. It made her stomach clench delightfully, her face heating up as she imagined how easily everyone else can see the love they have for each other. 

She looked down at Dean, smiling wider at his peaceful face before quietly saying, “you don’t need to thank me, Sam.” 

“No, I know… I just… I’m glad you’re in our lives,” he told her bashfully, smiling at her through the rearview mirror. She looked up and smiled back at him, letting out a small laugh that made him relax immediately.

“I’m glad you’re both in my life too,” she said quietly. A peaceful silence descended within the Impala, the occasional little rock hitting the metal frame while Sam drove as smoothly as he could back to the motel they were staying at. 

Thankfully, the sun wouldn’t start rising for a few hours which meant they could catch a little sleep on their last night at the motel before heading off to the Bunker. More importantly, Dean would get some extra sleep—and Y/N was thrilled that he would be able to sleep fully until morning.

Dean whined and nuzzled into Y/N’s stomach when she tried moving him out of the Impala so he could sleep in a bed. He slapped her hand away and mumbled some nonsense into her tummy until Sam returned to check on them and roughly slapped his brother’s shoulder.

“Ow,” Dean flinched, slowly getting up to rub his shoulder with a pout while Y/N and Sam laughed at how childish he sounded. “You’re both mean…” he muttered, pecking Y/N’s lips just because he could before sleepily stumbling out of the Impala, stretching and rubbing his eyes. Y/N took the opportunity to gently smack his ass as his jacket and shirt rode up his body. 

He smirked at her, pulling her into his arms to kiss her which made Sam groan in disgust, mostly playful. She giggled into the kiss, clutching Dean’s shirt as he held her face in his warm palms.

“Alright then,” Sam cleared his throat. When Dean held Y/N in place, his tongue lazily slipping past her lips as he tilted his head for a better angle, Sam scratched the back of his neck and rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna shower,” he said quickly, and made his escape. Dean chuckled, finally pulling away from his girlfriend.

“Will you make me sleep on the couch if I don’t wanna shower?” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, it made her smile adoringly at him. Dean could surprisingly pull that look off quite well and she had to resist rolling her eyes—mostly at herself for melting as soon as he looked at her that way. 

“Just sleep in clean clothes and brush your teeth,” she murmured, kissing him softly. He hummed quietly, nodding his head, accepting her proposition. 

“What if I sleep naked?” He wondered with a smirk, staring down at her. He bit his lip, raising his brows as he held her close to him. She laughed and rested her head on his chest, her ear pressed over his heart, listening to the cadence of his relaxing heartbeat.

“I would love that, but unfortunately, we share a room with your brother…” She moved away from him to close the door. He groaned in annoyance, holding her pinky with his. “I know,” she said dramatically, tugging him to the motel room, fully intertwining their fingers, “if only you could sleep naked next to me at all hours, every night.” 

He chuckled softly at the thought, spinning her around to face him with his arms around her waist. She gasped dramatically as he opened the door, but before he could kiss her, she put her finger to his lips, “better yet, what if you were naked at all hours, every day too?” He stumbled in with a laugh, kicking the door closed, and pressing her against the wall.

“Is that what you picture if we have our own home?” He murmured, kissing her passionately and sloppily dragging his lips down her neck. “Me, walking around naked so I can fuck you whenever I want?” He grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around him. 

“Dean…” she moaned, “we can’t…” 

He rutted against her slowly, her hands twisting in his shirts, as his warm breath fanned over her neck. He was already hard, it was driving her crazy to feel him against her clothed core, wetness pooling between her legs.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pressing his forehead against her shoulder, “I know.” He let her down gently and kissed her forehead. “Sorry,” he whispered, kissing her forehead again before he pulled away and started to strip.

“Don’t apologise for that,” she chuckled, stripping off her dirty clothes and putting on a clean pair of panties as he stood there, naked.

“I was apologising to your panties, mostly, and your pussy,” he bit his lip and nodded at her playfully, “because I bet they’re soaked, just ruined, and that you were expecting my dick inside you.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she chuckled, stealing a shirt from his duffel bag and grabbing some new boxers for him.

“I…” she laughed, shoving his boxers against his chest, “stop distracting me.” She walked past him as she put his shirt on and laughed when he pulled her into him again. His warm hands moved up her sides, lifting the shirt she wore as he pressed himself against her, his cock squeezed between their bodies. “I’m serious,” she chuckled, looking over at the bathroom door where the water was still running as Sam showered.

He sighed and let her go, dramatically putting his boxers on and standing there with his hands on his hips. “Better?” He asked, rolling his eyes playfully when she peeked at him from over her shoulder and then smiled at him.

“Not really, but I asked you to, so, I guess.” She smiled at him and pulled him closer to her. He moved with her smoothly, holding her close and plopping down on the bed with her in his lap. “Sammy's gonna come out soon,” she warned as he kissed her again and kneaded her ass, his hands warm and rough. 

“I know,” he whined, falling back on the bed, closing his eyes, his thumbs rubbing circles on her hip bones. “Don’t get mad, I don’t wanna brush my teeth, I’m still a little tired from the spell.” Her eyes softened and she leaned over him, kissing his hairline, dropping another kiss on his forehead.

“I’m never going to get mad at you, you know that, Dean.” She kissed his nose and then his lips before climbing off him and laying down with her head in the pillow. He turned to look at her tiredly, but managed to smile at her happily.

“I know, I just like being dramatic.” Instead of claiming his spot closest to the door, he settled between her legs, nudging them apart with his knees. 

“I love you so much, Dean,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck, she brought him down to rest his head on her chest. He quickly relaxed, a soft sigh warming up her chest as he nuzzled between her breasts as comfortably as he could. 

“I love you, Y/N, so much,” he mumbled shyly against her chest. His face heated up, but he hoped it made her smile. Her fingers began combing through his hair, and matched with her steady heartbeat and her warmth, they lulled him until he fell back into unconsciousness again. 

When he woke up, it was already sunny outside. He knew Sam must have gone out for a run, and after that, to pick up some coffee and tea for Y/N. He sneaked his hand under his girlfriend’s shirt with his eyes closed. Dean felt her stir when his fingers gently brushed against her nipple, a shudder rippling through her that made him smirk.

He lowered his hand and tugged at her panties, hoping to rouse her. It made her moan softly in protest. When he went to kiss her, a curtain of honey-coloured locks scared the shit out of him and he nearly screamed at the top of his lungs, but settled for a quick, “oh, shit!” 

He stumbled off of Y/N and his wiggling on the bed woke her.

“Dean?” She rubbed her eyes and blinked at the naked woman on the bed who was looking down at herself in shock. It sobered Y/N and she scrambled far away from the unfamiliar woman. “Dean?! Is this some kind of joke?” Y/N got out of bed, her eyes trailing up and down the woman’s body.

“Y/N, it’s me! It’s Dean!” In his attempts to get up, his boxers fell from his slimmer, curvier body, and Y/N froze, staring at him in the eyes. Green eyes. Dean pulled the boxers up and held them at his waist. 

“What?” She asked quietly.

“It’s me. It’s Dean. I’m Dean,” he said more calmly, making his way to her on the bed, walking on his knees. “Im kinda freaking out, babe,” he admitted quietly. Y/N’s eyes flickered down to Dean’s breasts again and then Y/N started to laugh. “What? What’s so funny? Sweetheart, we need to find out what happened! What the fuck is going on?” He didn’t care that she was laughing, he still moved in for a hug which she easily gave to him, her arms wrapping around his, her, neck.

“I’m sorry, D,” she murmured, burying her face in his neck and smelling the same scent that always came from Dean. “I think it was the witch, honestly,” she mumbled, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes, his green eyes and cute freckles that she always loved. 

“But she’s dead…” Dean whispered, sitting down, his long hair covering her chest. “S-shouldn’t I…? Then why is the spell still working?” He wondered exasperatedly, running his hand down his face. “I need some clothes. And-and we need to get to the Bunker, read up on this shit…” he started to ramble as he got off the bed, letting his boxers fall.

“We can call Rowena,” Y/N suggested, but Dean was too busy rifling through his duffle bag. “D, slow down, I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes.” She got off the bed and stopped Dean, who was still pretty tall. He instinctively leaned down to kiss her, his fingers tangling in her soft hair. She kissed him back, to his surprise, as if he were the same, as if it didn’t matter to her that he was a woman now. At least for however long he had to be one before they turned him back.

“I wanna wear that dress that drives me crazy when you wear it,” he murmured playfully against her lips. She laughed at Dean, pulling away completely to dig through her duffle bag for a pair of her underwear and a bra. “Babe, your boobs are bigger than mine,” he pouted, experimentally holding his breasts in his hand and rolling his nipples between his fingers. He gasped softly and Y/N’s face heated up as she watched him touch himself. “Shit, am I pissing myself?” He stopped touching himself to look between his legs and then relaxed when he realised what was happening. “Oh,” he said with wonder.

“Stop that,” Y/N chuckled, placing the bra back into her bag while Dean pulled Y/N’s underwear on. She then took out the dress Dean was talking about, wondering if he was serious or not. “Are you sure?” She asked, holding it up for him to inspect it—even though he’d seen it millions of times. He rubbed his thighs together and then looked up at her, his face flushed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, getting up and taking it from her, letting him help putting it on. She bit her lip, realising that he was turned on right now. “Man, why am I so wet?” He whined as Y/N fixed the straps of the thin and soft dress. 

“I don’t know,” she murmured, fixing the dress on Dean’s body and grabbing the white, silky strap of cloth that went around the waist to make a neat bow at his waist. “Why do you think you’re wet?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Uh,” Dean looked down at himself, bit his lip as he blushed and then looked at her. “Probably because you still turn me on and I’m wearing your panties,” he told her, licking his lips, he stepped forward, watching her stand up straight as he came closer. “I mean, I know wearing panties always feels good to me, but it’s always different when I know they’re yours,” he confessed, looking down as he sneaked his hand under her shirt and into her panties. Both their breaths started to pick up and he moaned softly, finding her as soaked as he felt. 

Just then, the doorknob started to rattle and Dean grunted in annoyance. He moved his hand out from between her legs and licked his fingers clean of her slick before kissing her forehead and heading to the bathroom. Sam froze as he watched a woman—Dean—wad to the bathroom while Y/N stood there, flushed, before facing Sam.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, closing the door behind him to place the cup holder on the table. 

“Uh, the witch made Dean a woman,” Y/N said bluntly, putting on some jeans to look a little more decent. 

“The.. What?” Sam blinked at Y/N, then seemed to have let the information sink as he sat down, abandoning the coffee cup he was drinking from when he came in. “Are you sure?” He asked, even though he knew Y/N knew what she was doing. She nodded and took the cup that had the tea string hanging out of the cup. “I’ll call Rowena as we make our way to the Bunker, it’s just a few hours away…” Sam stretched a little and froze when Dean came out of the bathroom, using a towel to clean his face.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, hating the way Sam looked at him in shock. Dean took the last coffee on the cup holder and started to drink from it. “I know, I’m so hot like this, too,” he smirked up at his baby brother. Sam rolled his eyes, needing nothing more to know that it was, in fact, Dean as a woman. 

Y/N chuckled and made her way to the bathroom to get ready, letting Sam and Dean talk about whatever they needed to before stepping out. She got her stuff ready, found Sam perplexed, prepared, and Dean amused and curious, before they all headed out to the car to get to the Bunker.

Dean pouted as Rowena started to scan his body using a spell, Y/N stifled a laugh, which made Dean smile. As soon as Sam got in the Impala, he started to call Rowena and told her to be there to help Dean out. She was obviously there, faster than either of them cared to mention.

Rowena had also checked Dean out as soon as she saw him, which Dean liked, despite his sassy remark to her objectifying stare. He plopped down on the bed of the infirmary and let Rowena do her thing, Y/N was sitting nearby as Sam anxiously chewed on his fingernails. 

“Honestly, as long as I’m not gonna die…” he trailed off, “but please tell me you can turn me back.” Rowena sighed and smiled at Dean, her eyes mischievous and naughty as she patted Dean’s head like a dog.

“You’re not going to die,” she reassured him and Dean slapped her hand away, sitting up on the bed. “And the spell will run its course in a few days, like a fever,” she explained. Dean listened as he played with the hem of the dress he wore. “Tell me, what’s it like for you being a woman? Have you two already explored your new body?” She asked mischievously. Sam cleared his throat, expressing his discomfort. Rowena rolled her eyes at him, but smirked at Dean’s blush as he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m asking because I can change you back now… Unless..” she trailed off, looking between Y/N and Dean with a knowing look, “unless you two wanna experiment…” She added casually, shrugging and looking at her nails.

“Okay! I’m leaving now,” Sam said, not wanting to hear it or to embarrass Y/N and Dean for their choice. Sam decided he was going to leave the Bunker for a while and l text Dean that he’d be back in a week. Sam nodded to himself, getting some new clothes and his duffle bag, he wanted to give them some privacy. Maybe he could read all those books he wanted to read and stay in a motel for a while. Or he could call Eileen, yeah, he was gonna do that, spend some time with her and go on a date, too. 

“I’m not judging, I’m actually encouraging it,” Rowena said smugly, packing her things. Rowena didn’t need an answer, she had Dean figured out. He was confident and proud about his sex life; he was an experimenter, willing to try anything. Dean rolled his eyes at Rowena and got out of bed to stand next to Y/N. 

“Whatever, we’ll walk you out,” Dean grumbled, taking Y/N’s hand to help her off the chair as Rowena gave both of them a knowing look. Her dark eyes shone with amusement and flirtatiousness, which made Dean roll his eyes again as he took her other bag and walked out with Y/N. 

“I always knew you two were an interesting pair,” she laughed, “I mean, how do you get Y/N to try all these things? She seems too tame for things like these…” Dean smirked to himself, knowing Rowena couldn’t see his face; if only she knew how many times a lot of the freaky stuff they did were Y/N’s idea. He looked down at his girlfriend, his eyes full of affection and desire. She was so cute when she was flustered. 

Rowena gasped dramatically, her heels clicking as she hurried to stand next to them. “Don’t tell me, this child is the one who comes up with everything… I knew you were the most sheltered, Dean.” Rowena laughed, looking between both of them, and needing nothing, but their silence to confirm her statement. “Well, I’m just shocked… but very proud.” She squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, a genuine expression of pride and mischief shining in her grey-blue eyes. 

Y/N shook her head at the witch, allowing Dean to open the Bunker door for Rowena to make her exit. “Well, thanks for coming out to help, Rowena,” Y/N told her. Dean handed Rowena her bag and Rowena grinned at them.

“You’re welcome,” she kissed Y/N’s cheek formally and patted Dean’s shoulder, “have a fantastic week, lovebirds.” Rowena continued to tease as she walked out, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the Bunker, both amused as they shut the door. 

“I’m gonna go look for Sam,” Dean said, looking down at his body, “and then I’m gonna shower.” He leaned over to kiss Y/N’s cheek, then kissed her lips, smiling adorably at her. 

“Just… go look for your brother,” Y/N chuckled shyly, walking past Dean just as his phone lit up on the war table. “Nevermind!” She shouted, taking Dean’s phone when she saw Sam’s name light up the screen above a message he sent. Dean raised a brow and walked over to her, looking over her shoulder to read whatever notification he got. 

SAMMY : I’m heading out with Eileen. I’m spending the whole week with her. You two have fun… No details, please.

Dean chuckled too, taking the phone when Y/N handed it to him. He typed out his response with a childish snicker and a grin. Y/N’s smile grew watching Dean look practically the same even as a woman.

Dean : Oh, you have plenty of time to finally sleep with her.. Unlike you, I’d like to hear the details… or Eileen will spill to Y/N and I’ll know anyway. Heh.

Dean proudly sent the message, his attention purely on his phone. He saw Sam had immediately read it and the text bubble appeared, so he stepped forward, leaning his hips against the table, nearly forgetting he was a woman. He quickly recovered and laughed at Sam’s response.

SAMMY : She wouldn’t… Stop that!

               Goodbye, Dean

Dean could already hear the annoyance from Sam through the text and he grinned to himself, looking to where Y/N was. A soft smile graced her pretty lips and Dean found himself smiling back immediately, and reaching out for her hand.

“Let’s shower together,” he said with a smile, his thumb brushing against her knuckles when she took his hand. She nodded at him, looking at Dean the same way she always had. It flustered him. 

While he walked with her to the bathroom, he couldn’t help squeeze her hand nervously—now that he was a woman. It was comforting that nothing had changed for her, that it didn’t matter what he looked like. If anything could display how she felt about him, this was the true testament of her love for him.

As much as he wanted to just get the shower over with, he couldn’t. He had no idea how to stop himself from being so horny, it was like starting all over again from puberty. He couldn’t focus on anything, but the desire for Y/N to touch him. He was so wet, everytime his thighs were too close, he could feel his panties sticking to his pussy, the cool feeling of wetness surprising him. 

He didn’t even realise he was already in the bathroom, until he felt Y/N tugging at the ends of the little bow she made around his waist to keep the dress snug against his curves. He focused on her, but the way it just seemed so natural to her that he was a woman now, it was confusing. Still, it was also nice, hoping that her love for him was just that pure and unconditional.

“I love you,” he mumbled. He felt shy saying that, but she looked up at him with her eyebrows raised slightly, pleasant surprise written all over her face, one side of her lips turning up just a little. She leaned forward and pecked his lips, repeating the same sentiment that made him feel warm, a flush that was different from the lust he’d been feeling all day. 

Dean started to take his dress off slowly, but Y/N stripped faster than he did, focused on the task of showering. She turned the shower on and waited patiently for Dean to get used to his lady parts and the difference in size of all his body. His arms were thinner and so were his legs, he was soft, but toned, and just slightly firm on his ass, he was squishy in all the places he liked Y/N to be. When he’d embarrassedly lowered his panties, Y/N watched, amused by the patch of wetness that drenched the crotch of the cotton. 

“Jesus, Dean,” she chuckled, stepping forward and curiously tugging Dean’s panties to get a clearer look at all the wetness. Dean blushed, now understanding why Y/N became so coy when he did or said things like that. He secretly liked it though, the way she pressed her fingers into the damp cotton and hummed as if it were nice against her fingertips. “You're so dirty,” she whispered, laughing softly. 

“I’m not used to this,” was all he managed to say. Y/N released his panties, letting them pool around his ankles. Dean swallowed, waiting in anticipation for Y/N to do something, anything really, just as long as he could get off. She’d mimicked what Dean did earlier to himself, her hands experimentally cupping Dean’s breast. Dean bit his lip, feeling his nipples tighten and tingle with the prospect of being touched.

Y/N was slow and curious in the way she handled him. Her thumbs gently circled around the nipple, observing them start to pucker up. The soft pads of her thumbs brushed against the little buds of his nipples and he found himself arching his chest the same way she did when he did that to her. 

It had the same effect on her as it had on him, and one of her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close so her warm mouth was latched onto his nipple. He moaned, feeling her fingers on his other breast, pinching and rolling his nipples, while she tongued the other expertly.

He felt his knees weaken and he steadied himself on the wall, a wave of wetness dampening his legs more. She released his waist, sucking his nipple into her mouth, her teeth pleasantly scraping the sensitive skin of his nipples. Her hand slid down his side, smoothly tracing the curve of his waist, down to his hips.

Her thumb brushed against his hipbone and it felt so damn good, Dean moaned again, squirming and hoping Y/N would show him mercy and put her fingers where she knew he wanted her to. Instead, she playfully tugged at his nipple and let it go with a pop, her warm breath billowing over the wetness and making shivers erupt on his skin. 

Dean felt his eyes roll back, felt so horny when she wrapped her arm around his waist again and repeated every little stroke of her tongue on his other nipple. This time, her free hand moved between his legs. Dean found himself spreading his legs when her palms sailed smoothly up the inside of his thigh, curving up to cup his pussy, her palm grinding against his swollen clit and her fingers pressing into his drenched entrance. 

He gasped, his fingers tangling in her hair, trying to pull her up so she would kiss him instead. She pulled away from his chest and let Dean kiss her, a surprised sound muffling against Dean’s lips. She didn’t stop palming his swollen clit, and Dean began to undulate his hips against her hand and she smirked. Even now, she loved making him desperate. 

“I need to cum,” he gasped against her mouth. Y/N nodded, circled Dean’s weeping entrance with two fingers and moved them up to his clit. She kissed Dean’s neck, licked his sweet skin and marked him as hers where she thought would look pretty against his skin. Dean’s heavy breaths and breathy moans caused a pool of arousal between her legs again. 

Y/N licked her lips, staring at Dean, and truly took him in. She took in the gorgeous curves of his body, his tiny waist and wide hips, the perfect roundness of his perky breasts, his nipples hard and shimmering with her saliva. He looked beautiful, ravenous, in the same way he’d make her feel when he had the body of a man. 

His hair was long and straight, a lighter brown colour. He was breathtaking, with strands curtaining above his chest and falling in front of his face, long tendrils of honey that nearly covered his green eyes. He looked at her breathlessly, wondering why she was so slowly, agonisingly massaging his clit. 

He hadn’t expected to see the same tenderness in her eyes that she’d usually gaze at him with, her eyes sparkling with wonder and love. Dean whined anyway, grasping her wrist to speed up and control the movements just when she began to trace the same freckles she’d seen on Dean’s other body with her eyes. 

She didn’t say anything, just snatched Dean’s wrist with her clean hand to keep him away as she easily slipped two fingers inside him. Dean gasped, not expecting the speed at which Y/N fingered him. Her fingertips easily found his g-spot, curled so deliciously against the sensitive ridges of his wall. His mouth fell open and he moaned her name loudly, feeling a coil begin to tighten in his tummy. 

He tugged at his nipples with both hands, squeezing his breasts and fucked himself against her quick fingers. Y/N stared up at him, captivated by every one of his hedonistic manoeuvres. Desire flourished between her legs and in her stomach at the sound of Dean’s wet cunt around her fingers. 

Y/N got down on her knees, her mouth sending warm breaths over his pelvis. Dean’s eyes snapped open to gaze down at Y/N with an intense hunger, wiggling his hips and abandoning one of his breasts to spread his folds with two fingers, encouraging her to put her mouth on his clit. 

She didn’t hesitate to flick his clit teasingly and he jolted, his head bumping against the wall. He moaned again, the feeling of her tongue’s perfect strokes drew him closer to his orgasm. The smoothness of movement aided by her saliva and Dean just didn’t care about holding back when he came, completely relaxing his muscles and letting it tear through him intensely.

Dean caught his breath against the wall, her fingers slowing down and stopping before her tongue did. Y/N sat back on her legs and licked her fingers clean while Dean watched her. Leaning forward for more, she lifted Dean’s thigh and pushed his legs open to lap up his clear cum and he moaned appreciatively.

“Come on, there’s still a lot more I have to show you.” She grinned at him mischievously, allowing Dean to relax and catch his breath. She stepped into the shower and stared at him for a moment.

“God,” he whispered and rolled his eyes, “it sucks that this is just temporary.” He entered the shower with her. 

“That’s enough time,” she reassured him with a grin. Dean gasped when Y/N manhandled him under the showerhead and used her fingers to clean him up, purposely brushing against his sensitive clit.

“I am so in love with you,” Dean breathed, pressing a loving kiss to her cheek. 

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[velvetvexations]

I'm now going to conclusively prove beyond all possible doubt that TERFs hate cis men, people they perceive as men, and masculinity in general. No, seriously, this is going to have less holes than relativity. Darwin wishes he could have demonstrated the reality of evolution like I'm about to take down the idea that TERFs don't come from a place of violent hatred towards masculine people and those they perceive of as masculine.

Some ground rules, because I'm so good at predicting counter-arguments:

I have only included cases where posts are completely, 100% unambiguously about cis men or "all men." No posts complaining about "men" without further elaboration, to avoid the argument that it's just being used as a dog whistle.

I have excluded cases that could be brushed away as only racism rather than hatred of men specifically, although yes, obviously they are also extremely racist.

I did not repeat a single TERF to dodge claims these are mere anomalies.

"but they team up with cis men" the Nazis teamed up with Asians and tried appealing to Native Americans and Arabs, people are perfectly capable of being logically inconsistent or temporarily suspending their feelings for one group to combat another - also, many TERFs do actually bemoan the way others have started warming up to conservatives.

The "claiming TERFs don't think I'm a woman is misgendering me" people are going to be upset. Or at least they would be, but transradfems will not engage with this, they will do everything in their power to ignore it. I invite everyone to use this post whenever they say TERFs uniquely hate trans women and only trans women. It's necessary to make the facts inescapable.

Okay, here we go after the cut. My own commentary will be Biggest as well as bold and italicized for readability. CW for hateful rhetoric.

Here she's saying that Western white women have extra capability to fully sever all relationships with men, not that white women have a greater need to do so, and thus does not fall under "can be brushed away as racism" like it may read at first.

This is in response to statements of others that identify men in a sympathetic way ("not all men," "normalize men crying") and therefore cannot be about trans women.

"Stop calling men boys" means the people she's ranting about call them boys, which again means this post isn't about trans women.

I'll end by noting that I'm not comfortable platforming the content itself, but if you google "Dworkinstan Tumblr" (yes, even the actual URL is that bad) you will find the crowning example that really cherries the top of this sundae.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for not wanting to go out for dinner with Granddaddy?

CW: long post

My (43, FtM) husband's (39,M) family experienced several very grievous losses, including my husband's stepdad and his maternal grandmother, in 2022. MIL is not taking things well, which is to be expected, but she has a tendency to use hubby's deceased dad against him if he can't or does not wish to do something (e.g. bursting into tears and going "I wish your dad was still here, he would have known how to fix the chainsaw and trimmed the trees!" "I wish your dad was still here, HE wouldn't have told me to call a plumber for the toilet!" Also going on utterly unrelated rants that upset everyone in our home and blaming it on her grief.) Worth noting she hasn't ever pulled these tricks with hubby's younger brother (27M) despite him living with her. Also worth noting that she has said some really nasty things about me, my gender and sexuality over the last few years simply because I encourage him to stand up for himself, and has apologised to him but never to me. Nonetheless, we are family and we abide. (This is relevant backstory, I do not need to be told she sucks, we been knew.)

PRESENT! Since Grandmother (hubby's grandmother, who hated me even more openly than MIL does for being trans and turning her grandson gay, and always played her kids, grandkids and great grandkids against each other) died, Granddaddy (84M, hubby's grandfather) has been a bit at sea. "NTA!" i can hear you shouting, but Granddaddy is actually a solid dude-- has never misgendered me, is unfailingly kind to me and has always made me feel like part of the family in a way *no one else* in hubby's family does. He's lovely, funny, intelligent-- used to work in aeronautics and loves that i love his sci fi books, and adores exchanging silly cheesy jokes with me when we hang out. He's *great!* 10/10 Granddaddy.

MIL is of the opinion that Graddaddy needs to be taken out to dinner *every night*. He can never have a night alone; he can never call an uber to go out by himself; and we certainly cannot make a meal and take it to his home to eat in. He MUST be taken out to dinner EVERY night because it's the only social interaction he gets.

It's killing our wallet, y'all-- we aren't poor, but we have three kids. We've whittled it down to us taking him out twice a week, but he doesn't want to go to McDonald's, he wants to go to the local Italian or fish place, and it's *not* cheap, especially when paying for six! MIL "takes him out" five times a week (which usually means dropping him off and going to the gym while he makes waitresses uncomfortable because he's from a different generation), but she has decided two days a week are on us (we aren't just going to drop him for play dates because that doesn't make him OR the waitstaff happy!). Mind, we never agreed to this-- she just decided it, and if we argue against it we get hysterics about hubby's dad.

I am autistic and truly do not like going out more than a couple times a month at most. I have urgently suggested that I could make dinner at Granddaddy's a couple times a month, but this is NOT acceptable according to MIL. We HAVE to go out, he's GRIEVING and LONELY, isn't he?

No, no one has actually asked Granddaddy how he would feel about this, and I am a monster for even asking them to.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[cookiescribble]

I’m The Only One Who Touches You

A/N: This one kinda got away from me, ngl 😅 I’ve been sitting on it for a while. enjoy anyway, though! sorry we've kinda been on hiatus <3 - Mod Ghost

Summary: You and Spencer had decided some quality time with the team could do you both some good, but some jerk has other ideas

TW: sexual harassment, alcohol/drinking, pre-T/ top or bottom surgery body, misgendering

After some discussion between us and the team, Spencer and I agreed to go out that night with the rest of the team to a bar that Rossi wanted to show us.

“Do we really have to go? I…I really don’t want to be inside of a bar tonight, let alone at all,” Spence asked softly, coming up behind me as I brushed my teeth and wrapped his arms around my waist as he dropped his head on top of mine. He looked into my eyes in the mirror, and I could see the puppy dog pout that he had on.

“We already agreed to go, and we won’t have to be there for long. Just enough to say hello and make it seem like we’re personable people.” I spit into the sink then turn around in his arms to hug him back as I speak, rubbing his back. “Plus, if it gets really bad, we can have a secret signal. Just for you to say ‘hey, I hate it here, let’s leave please.’ Okay? While we’re there, you can just tap my elbow three times. Like this.” I reach around and tap his elbow three times to show him then he nods.

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s head out then, the rest of the team should either already be there or will be there soon.” Spence chuckled softly, taking my hand and leading me out of the bathroom then out of the apartment.

Once we got there, Spencer seemed to be a bit more at ease, comfortable in his own skin. He was talking with JJ and Garcia as I was getting some more drinks, soda for Spence and myself while the girls were getting alcohol.

“Another of whatever this pretty lady is getting for me, please.” A man spoke up from next to me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

The bartender went about making all the drinks as I looked at this mystery man. He was taller than me and was looking at me with a rather smug face.

“I’m not sure who you think you’re talking to, or why you’d want four drinks for yourself.” I tried to move his hand off my shoulder but he kept it there, which made my discomfort levels skyrocket. I looked around for Spencer but couldn’t see him, which is when this guy finally moved his hand, but he grabbed my chin instead of keeping it away as if he was trying to get my attention back.

“You bought four drinks, huh? Someone’s got a bit of an alcohol problem,” he said with a cocky sneer, leaning in closer so I could smell all the alcohol he’d been drinking.

“You have about 5 seconds to get off me before I make you,” I threatened, trying to pull away from him which only made him yank me closer with his hand trailing down my side. “Hey—“

All I felt was this guy suddenly getting dragged off of me and before I knew what was happening, he was pinned down against the bar.

“When my boyfriend tells you something, you listen. Do you understand me?” The man holding this guy down, who I quickly realized was Spence, growled close to this asshole’s ear. It made him nod nervously. “Good. Now, get the fuck out of here.”

The mystery pervert was up and out of sight before either of us could say anything else, which was when Spencer turned to face me. His entire demeanor changed now, his expression soft as he reached out to me.

“Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?” Before he could even finish his sentence, I was burying myself in his arms. “Hey, what happened?? What did he do that I didn’t see?”

“Nothing, Spence, I promise. I’m just…really glad you showed up..” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. He rubbed my back slowly as he hugged me tight.

“Alright, it’s okay. I’m going to take you home, let’s go tell the others we’re leaving and then we’ll be out of here,” he whispered back as he leaned in close to my ear, leading me back over to where everyone was standing to politely tell them we were leaving.

“Hey, we’re uh, we’re gonna head home,” Spencer announced, his arm tightly wrapped around my shoulders.

“Aw, already?” Complained Penelope, but then I assumed she saw the look on my face because I saw her demeanor turn concerned. “What happened? Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine, I’m just tired. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He didn’t wait for anyone else to say anything before leading me away as I waved meekly. 

We were in a taxi on the way home but I felt detached and out of it. I kept thinking about what could’ve happened if Spencer hadn’t been there when he was. 

“I didn’t lie to Penelope for you, did I?” he joked, gently nudging me to bring me out of my thoughts with a soft tone to his voice and a gentle smile on his face. 

“No, I would never make you do that. I’m okay, just like I said earlier,” I promised, but it didn’t seem to ease his suspicions any.

After getting out of the car, we were heading up to his apartment, his arm around me the whole way until we got to his door where he let go to let us inside. 

I stood behind him, an arm wrapped around myself and looking around the hallway on either side until I heard the telltale sound of the lock clicking open then took his hand that he extended to me. He pulled me through the threshold and then turned around to close the door behind us while I simply stood there.

Spence could tell I was feeling off, but I couldn’t do much about it. My mind couldn’t help taking me through what the worst case scenario would’ve been.

“Hey,” he murmured lovingly, leaning in close enough that I could feel him behind me without him actually touching me, “I don’t care what ‘men’ try to pick you up, I’ll always be the man taking you home,” he mumbled in my ear, just low enough to send shivers down my spine as he pulled me in until I was pressed against his chest and gently tilted my head so he could make eye contact with me, “Okay?”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off of his. 

“Good. Now, c’mon, let’s take a shower and stop thinking about this.” 

“How’d you know I was—“

Spencer simply looked at me with a raised eyebrow, as if he was asking whether or not I was serious.

“…never mind.”

“That’s what I thought. Come with me.” He took my hand, holding it firmly but gently as he led me into the bathroom. “Start the water, I’m gonna grab some clothes and towels for us.” He kissed the back of my head with his hands gently resting on my shoulders before leaving the room. I did as told, though, leaning down to start up the water and making sure the temperature was okay. 

As I was about to get up, I heard him come back into the bathroom, closing the door and coming up behind me. I felt the warmth of his body before his hands slid over my hips, pulling me up to stand and turning me around to face him. 

“Do you want me in here with you? I can start up some food if–” He stopped mid-sentence when I grabbed his wrist, nonverbally signaling that I didn’t want him to leave me, “--okay, don’t worry…I’m right here and I’m going to keep you safe now.” 

Adjusting so he was holding my hand instead, he then leaned down to kiss my forehead before leaning his head against mine. “Is it okay if I take your shirt off for you?” His voice was soft as it broke the silence, barely even there, which made it all the more comforting. 

I nodded again, but he didn’t move, so I got the sense he wanted verbal consent.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” I mumbled back, and he kissed my cheek before he gently started tugging my shirt up and over my head. 

He paused with his hands hovering over the waistband of my jeans, glancing at me as if he was asking me again. 

“That’s uh, that’s okay, too. Jeans and..and just all of it, go ahead.” I smiled at him shyly, admiring how sweet he was to continually make sure I was okay with what was going on. 

Spence smiled at me then continued to undress me, unable to stop himself from looking at me for a moment before turning me around to gently push me into the shower and getting undressed himself so he could join me. I waited patiently for him, letting the water run through my hair and closing my eyes as I felt my muscles relax under the spray while my mind wandered.

It felt a bit odd that I didn’t want Spencer to stop touching me, as if his soft and gentle touch could somehow erase the terror of what could’ve happened to me but didn’t. That it could save me from feeling that man’s hand roughly grabbing my chin and almost forcing me into things I didn’t want. His gentle kisses and soft caresses were all I wanted, and it seemed he was more than willing to give me that.

I hadn’t noticed that Spence had stepped into the shower until I opened my eyes and he was standing in front of me, pouring soap into his hand. His eyes flicked over to meet mine once he realized I was looking at him, giving me a gentle smile.

“Are you still with me over there?” His tone of voice hadn’t changed from that same tender cadence, taking a small step closer to me until I could feel his breath ghosting over my skin. It was moments like this that made me realize just how tall he was. 

“Yeah, I’m right here…hi.” I waved up at him which made us both giggle.

“That’s okay, just checking, sweetheart.” Spence kissed the top of my head, rubbing the soap into both of his hands then he gently started to rub his hands over my shoulders. I leaned forward until my head was pressed against his chest as he ran his hands over my body, gently kissing the top of my head again then leaving a trail of kisses on my face and along my neck. 

I stood up straight again when he had to bend down further, blushing as I felt his hands massage over my legs and up my thighs. 

I slid my hand into his hair, gently playing with it as he left a kiss lower on my stomach and the warm water rained down over me. 

“S-Spence, I…” I trailed off, distracted by him leaving kisses and marks over my body.

“Hmm…?” he stopped, looking up at me. “Are you okay?” He sat back on his knees, looking up at me while holding both of my thighs.

I slid my hand into his hair, gently playing with it as he left a kiss lower on my stomach and the warm water rained down over me. 

“Mmhmm…I’ve just...I’ve never done this before, and everything that happened tonight, I just…I didn’t think it affected me because he only grabbed at me, but…”

“Stop,” he stood up, wrapping his arms around me with his hands on my lower back so he could pull me closer to him. “It’s alright that what happened affected you, any kind of unwanted touch is a very disorienting thing. Especially if you’ve never been touched like that. We don’t have to do anything unless you’re comfortable.” His voice was more serious than before, and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but nod to show that I understood. “Are you still comfortable with this? Because it’s completely alright to have changed your mind. Just tell me, darling. I’m smart but I’m not a mind reader,” he joked, gently tugging me closer to him until I was almost pressed up against him. 

“Yes…Yeah, I’m still comfortable with this. I think I just needed a minute.” I speak only loud enough to be heard over the water. 

He nods and presses his lips to my cheek before he kneels in front of me again, marking his path with kisses down my stomach back toward where he was before I stopped him, sucking and gently biting at my skin along the way. 

As he got lower and lower, he shifted to loop his arms around my knees, pulling me even closer as he got ever closer to exactly where I wanted–no, needed him to be. I could feel his breathing getting heavier, each breath washing over me between each kiss. 

I slid both of my hands into his hair, gently gripping random fistfuls of it as I moaned lowly and tilted my head back. I felt him chuckle more than I heard it as his head found its way between my legs. 

Soon enough, his tongue glided smoothly in circles over my skin as I gasped and groaned, my grip tightening on his hair and almost pulling with each motion as any thought of getting cleaned up was abandoned. God, if I had known this was where I was going to be before I left the house with him, I wouldn’t have wanted us to leave either. 

Spencer eventually came up for air ever so briefly before he was back to kissing all over my body, marking my skin wherever he could without seeming to care where, like he was claiming every inch of me. Little did he know, all he’d have to do was say ‘please’ in the softest tone of voice he could muster and I’d be on my knees for him. Or worse, he knew and he was more than willing to take advantage of that fact. Not that I minded, per say. 

He slowly made his way back up to my lips, kissing every possible spot on my body that he could so I’d be littered in hickeys and would feel them as a constant reminder of this moment. Of him. 

I tugged on his hair lightly until he was on his feet, my arms going around his neck as I pulled him into a deep kiss with my lips parting against his as he pulled me in closer until our bodies were all but pressed together. 

Feeling him this close to me sent a shiver down my spine.

He finished washing me off, getting out and wrapping a towel around himself before he held out his hand to help me out of the shower. He wrapped the other towel around me and helped me dry off, getting me dressed in a white and gray hoodie of his that said Washington DC and a pair of his pajama pants that he had to tie in a neat bow so they didn’t fall. 

I went digging in his drawers and helped him pick out as well as get into his own pajamas, then he picked me up as I squeaked loudly and started laughing. 

“Spencer! What’re you doing?!” I yelled through giggles. 

“I’m not doing anything!” He smirked as he dropped me onto his bed then sat next to me. 

Spence was barely on the bed two seconds before I was in his lap, hugging him tight. He looped his arms back around me as he leaned back, hugging me close as he pulled the blankets over us and I nuzzled into his shoulder. 

Neither of us moved for a while, long enough for us both to fall asleep. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I felt his lips press against the back of my head with a whispered ‘I love you’.

“Spence..?”

“Hmm..?”

“Can you like…talk to me? Like just…just tell me about something. Anything you want.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power here, sweetheart.” 

“I know, pretty boy, but your voice is…it’s comforting to me.” 

“Okay, you asked for it…” he cleared his throat in a dramatic fashion, making me giggle, before continuing, “The first thing I could think of that could be a lot of fun was Star Wars, so did you know that the name Yoda can be translated to ‘warrior’ in Sanskrit? Also, the word ‘Ewok’ was never spoken aloud in any of the films, even when they visit Endor, the only time it ever comes up is in the credits of ‘Return of the Jedi’,” Spencer rambled excitedly, and I was happy to listen to him for as long as he could talk. Just listening to him, it felt like the rest of the world melted away. Nothing else mattered, and that was the way I preferred it. 

I didn’t even notice I had been falling asleep until he kissed my head and softly wished me goodnight. 

[disaster-theysbian]

Gotta say, I've been out as a lesbian for 3 years and nonbinary for a year and a half. And I've noticed something.

Just because someone *always* gets your name and pronous correct, and angrily calls out anyone who forgets, doesn't necessarily mean they support you.

Conversely, just because someone struggles to remember your name and pronouns, or can't wrap their head around gender neutral/neo pronouns at all, doesn't necessarily mean they DON'T support you.

This is applicable to any situation really not just queer shit. Watch what people do, not just what they say, and you will find your friends. Someone might shower you with compliments and have common interests with you, but what happens when you tell them no? Do they get angry when they are corrected? Do they have kind things to say about other people?

My colleagues wouldn't know a gender-neutral pronoun if one hit them in the face with a dictionary, but they make sure I've had a lunch break and get home safely. They have my back if I have a difficult patient. They defend me against other staff members who like to create drama and bitch about people as if they're still in the school playground. If someone has something to say about me being a big ol' queer, they make it known that discrimination has no place in our unit.

My best friend in the whole entire world forgets my name and pronouns every day. When the organisers of her therapy group changed "men and women" to "people" and "he/she" to "they" in order to be more inclusive, there was outcry. Everything from the "it just doesn't sound right" grammar-policing nonsense to the "f*cking special snowflakes are offended by everything". She came down on them like a ton of bricks. She said if the organisers hadn't told them that it was changing, that they wouldn't have noticed. She told them they obviously haven't loved someone outside of the gender binary and they were missing out. She then told them how she had seen me grow and develop since I came out, and how in awe she was of the person I had become. No, she doesn't understand it at all, but why should that mean that she can't be there for me and appreciate how happy I am to be able to be me? Why should that mean, because you lot don't understand it, that someone with the same issues as the rest of the therapy group feels unsafe and unwelcome and doesn't get their issues resolved? As a result, a few of them changed their minds, INCLUDING HER OWN FATHER, and the rest at least shut the hell up about it.

ON THE FLIP SIDE...

A queer person who used my correct name and pronouns delighted in making me walk on eggshells, inventing reasons to be angry with me, convinced me I was a terrible person and even went as far as to try and turn me against my own therapist. They tried to tell me that my therapist only said I was a good person because she was paid to, and that because they themselves had a psychology degree that they could tell I had all these complexes and needed to work hard to be a good person, and it was unlikely I'd never get there. (I chose to listen to my therapist and stop being friends with this person).

A queer person who used my correct name and pronouns continued to do things that made me uncomfortable when I asked them to stop. Never said in as many words "you're not allowed to hang out with your friends" but conveniently had an emergency every time I had plans, and accused me of being uncaring if I needed my own space. They knew I had difficulty asking for help, but still got angry with me when I asked because I didn't ask "soon enough".

A queer person who used my correct name and pronouns told me they would look after me and they didnt. .

A queer person threatened to misgender me MORE when I corrected them.

I'm just saying, that if you choose to yeet everyone who doesn't get your name and pronouns right... that doesn't necessarily make you safe. We live in a very binary world. As much as we want that to change, it won't if we ignore or shout at the bits we don't like. (Believe me, I've tried).

[theres-no-protocol-for-this]

Murderbot and Pronouns

This is my personal opinion, so take it as such. But it felt like something worth saying.

I used to get very frustrated when people used the wrong pronouns for Murderbot. I remember thinking more than once, why can't they just get it right.

But, a few years ago, my mother read All Systems Red in Russian of all languages. In that translation, Murderbot is referred to, partially, as a robot, which is masculine in that language. When she talked to me about this human-robot, it was also in Russian, and using masculine descriptors. It became "he" by translation.

I'm told that in the Hebrew translation, the pronouns are feminine, but that might be hearsay.

Then, a dear friend of mine finally finished ASR! And she kept referring to MB as a "she." When I asked my friend why she did it, she said it was because of how its voice is described at the beginning of the book.

She'd imagined a tough-looking butch with short hair, a no-fucks-given attitude, and a kind voice. Like herself.

And that made me pause. She had seen herself in Murderbot the same way I had. Her choice of pronouns was coming from her perspective of the world, not from a desire to misgender MB. She wasn't trying to hurt anyone. She'd missed the pronouns (especially in book one) and saw herself in the main character.

And I understood her logic.

The thing she helped me realize as we spoke is that MB has unusual-by-US-standards pronouns, and when people didn't get them right, it made me feel like they wouldn't accept my pronouns either. That their supposed disrespect would extend to me, the person.

But that wasn't true. My friend knows my pronouns and doesn't get them wrong. It was never about that.

So, now I try to be kinder and gentler when I see people call MB a he/she/they. What I want is for people to respect my pronouns because I'm a living, thinking being, and I want my autonomy to be respected. And by being observant and kind to one of my favorite characters, people showcase that they may be kind to me and respect my autonomy.

And that's what I tell them now. I care about MB's pronouns because its autonomy is one way for me to explore my autonomy in a world that wasn't willing to give me the freedom to be myself.

And I find that people understand that, just like they see themselves in MB, so do I. And why that makes it important for me to see them get its pronouns correct.

And some people didn't read the books deeply enough to really let the "It/Its" sink in. Or they're trying to reference Skarsgard-MB without misgendering the actual human playing MB.

Either way, may I recommend kindness and compassion?

You're valid, your frustrations are valid (and this is to everyone, not to anyone specific). You deserve to have the world acknowledge your pronouns and your autonomy!