#and one gnc lead

[anonimusunnoan]

I looked at this post and genuinely went, "Oh yeah me too" before stopping and actually thinking about it.

When I was in middle school and I first started having the really dark thoughts that are generally associated with the music of MCR; I inexplicably found myself drawn to the songs they had. I know a lot of people have actually gone up to them and thanked them for saving their lives and being there when no one else was. I also know that Gerard has pointed out that Frank has a very good response to these compliments which is to say that they didn't do it but the person themselves had the strength to save their life. However, I want to build on that and say that yes, while I do not disagree with that statement I have to say that MCR gave me the hope that I couldn't see before.

There's no forced positivity in their music. What I do find is a raw sense of a will to keep going. To keep fighting and living and being part of the world which yes, today is beating you up and throwing you down and tomorrow might be the same but hey, there's always a way. These musicians – artists – are a testament to that, having taken repeated hits but coming back, coming out, fighting! Because one day the sun shines again. One day, it won't hurt so bad. And on that day you should be there to experience all of it.

And yes it hurts and it sucks and everything feels like it's all going to shit and at moments like that they said you can scream. You can make your pain heard just say you aren't okay. Say you're worn. Every emotion in the lyrics of their songs is painfully naked and true. They aren’t just hiding behind pretty words that are in reality empty. They show us what we want to see. That we aren’t alone. That this battle is not just our own and that we have people waiting for us who will help us, even if that person is ourselves, on a better day

When Foundations came out I was definitely in a rough patch. It was a struggle to leave my bed every morning and go to work. I found a strength through the song. I was yanked into that old feeling of comfort that I used to get from songs like ‘I’m Not Okay’, or ‘Kids From Yesterday’ when I was still in school. Gerard screaming ‘Get up coward!’, or pleading, ‘You must fix your heart.’ connected with me – a now 26 year old human who was ready to give up. 

And no. I’m not healed, or fixed or ‘great’ in any way. But I am BETTER. I’m living. I got up. I am trying to fix my heart, and it probably would have been harder if not for them. These four individuals who unbeknownst to them, have changed my life, over and over again, have made me live, over and over again. 

I guess what I’m trying to say is, yeah… I listen to MCR when the horrors start to become too much for me, because they help make it a little less horrible.

who knew that being stressed out could thrust you back into your MCR phase with no remorse

[starlooove]

The funniest part was the double down after deleting the reblog. The double down that was both preceded and followed by ‘i make rage bait content’. And I bet money they’re gonna be like ‘ooooh im so mysterious’ which they already kinda did in the tag and it’s like no u can’t choose if ur gonna say this with ur chest or not and u think acting sillay for saying women choose to be abused bc men can’t control themselves is feminist is gonna somehow make that less misogynistic

[chemicalarospec]

I've noticed a pattern regarding this in my own life, but I'm wondering if it's just coincidence, or maybe it evens out with age.

By "transitioning in a more binary way" I mean if someone is taking hormones & with what goal, surgery, changing their appearance (in what ways and what they're not changing -- hair, makeup?, chest, shaving?, clothing), and what pronouns they publicly use -- in short, whether a (queer?) stranger is more likely to read them as binary-trans or nonbinary (or even cis) and if they want to change that --, as well as how closely they actually identify to a binary gender.

(.... basically the normal definition of transitioning.... idk why I clarified that like that lol. ya'll understand the stereotypes of how nonbinary ppl (androgynous), binary men (masculine), and binary woman (feminine) look right)

I said "people raised as boys/girls" here because I know there's some ambiguity with AFAB/AMAB language... it's not perfect either, I know, like for people who transitioned very young, but i hope in combination it communicates what I mean. (yes, if you know many people who have more complicated situations, they are not included in this poll, sorry)

[nightmarish-fallen-angel]

There's something especially biting about people telling transmascs specifically to unpack their misogyny.

After so long of being yelled at or berated by my mother. Looked at with disgust for not shaving my legs and yelled at when I cut my hair, guilt tripped into wearing makeup, and being told any masculine dress was "not socially acceptable." All things that actively hurt gnc women as well as trans people. All things that are misogynistic to imply women have to do.

Every time I try to come out as trans: "I wish you weren't ashamed of your femininity, I'm so heartbroken that you hate women. You're only trying to become a man because you think women are inferior." Following it up with a "why can't you express yourself as you are and just be a gnc woman..." As if she didn't just mock me for those exact traits.

My mother, and by extension TERFs (as my mother is one), constantly imply that the only reason transmasculine people exist is because they are poor little girls who struggle with internalized misogyny. They need to embrace being the gnc women they truly are~ And the gnc women need to fix their internalized misogyny by being more feminine~

So imagine my frustration when the communities I assume to be safe for trans people (both irl and online) hit me with the "transmascs need to unpack their misogyny :/" "a surprising number of transmascs are misogynistic actually :/"

Everyone needs to unpack their misogyny dipshit. The fact that transmascs are singled out specifically leads me to conclude one (or both) of two things:

You have encountered a shitty transmasc person and have taken it upon yourself to decide that the entire transmasc community is like that. I'm not saying misogynistic transmascs don't exist, but if you see someone with a bigoted worldview and go "well this is indicative of the entire community" you are the problem.

You think transmascs are misogynistic for getting gender dysphoria around things that are feminine or conversely, they are misogynistic for getting euphoria around masculinity. This is just straight up punishing trans people for being true to themselves.

Both of these are transphobic arguments and are common TERF tactics to discredit trans people. I do not trust you if you hold the opinion that misogyny is more prevalent in transmasculine spaces than in society at large.

[redysetdare]

It's all "don't assume people's identity!" Until it's trans ppl calling strangers "eggs" because they decided the person acts trans in their personal opinion.

[liminalweirdo]

HERE'S WHAT YOU CAN DO:

email, call, or write your reps (this is the most important one) — use this tool to find your reps HERE IS A TEMPLATE that you can pull from.

Here is the text used in the petition that you can pull from to include in your email/letter to your reps:

I’m writing to urge you to reject the Kids Online Safety Act, a misguided bill that would put vulnerable young people at risk. KOSA would fail to address the root issues related to kid’s safety online. Instead, it would endanger some of the most vulnerable people in our society while undermining human rights and children’s privacy. The bill would result in widespread internet censorship by pressuring platforms to use incredibly broad “content filters” and giving state Attorneys General the power to decide what content kids should and shouldn’t have access to online. This power could be abused in a number of ways and be politicized to censor information and resources. KOSA would also likely lead to the greater surveillance of children online by requiring platforms to gather data to verify user identity. There is a way to protect kids and all people online from egregious data abuse and harmful content targeting: passing a strong Federal data privacy law that prevents tech companies from collecting so much sensitive data about all of us in the first place, and gives individuals the ability to sue companies that misuse their data. KOSA, although well-meaning, must not move forward. Please protect privacy and stop the spread of censorship online by opposing KOSA.

Here is an open letter from parents of trans and GNC kids that you can also add your name to/ pull from in writing your own letter

sign this petition

[viciouslyrobotic]

Seeing people Ik know better falling into the practice of implying masculinity as suffering and the transition to femininity as the only route to healing is so. Ugh.

Like its proto-terf ideology to imply Masculinity as suffering/violent/wrong and Femininity as healing/good/correct. It's the foundation of treating bi identity as traitorous which is covered in Sharon Dale Stone's "Bisexual Women and the "Threat" To Lesbian Space: Or What If All The Lesbians Leave?" That lead to the same transphobia that caused Sandy Stone to lose her job with Olivia Records, that threatened her life, that harmed Nancy Jean Burkholder at the 1991 Michigan's Women's Musical Festival, continues to harm trans women to this day and trans men who are frequently left out or entirely forgotten about in these discussions just like nonbinary people who are forced into a binary.

Like Idk think for two seconds how that implication paints trans mascs because we're choosing the identity that is being described as suffering, freakish and wrong rather than remaining feminine which is described as liberating and good. Its one thing to celebrate femininity and another to re-enforce the very narrative that harms all trans, gnc and nonbinary people.

[z0mbiefrank]

i have a lot of thoughts i'd like to document about mcr's auckland show, but here's just some of the things gerard said that hit me particularly hard.

first off, of course, we have the quote of the whole night, which i'll try not to dwell on too much.

"In the face of extermination, say fuck you."

there have been many posts about this. despite it not being included in the live stream, this video swept the dashboard. there is a pride flag front and centre in the audience. gerard is barely visible but all we needed was his voice. within hours it had inspired countless textposts and art pieces. i know i'm not the only one who cried. it is exactly what i needed to hear during this time of trans rights being rolled back all over the world. then came this video where you can see gerard. they walk right to the front centre stage, legs planted strongly in their skirt and tights, face set with intent, and he spits out those words for the whole world to hear.

now this next one i have not seen any posts about, but it struck a chord with me anyways. before planetary go they speak to the audience:

"You all look wonderful. You do. I see you when the lights are bright on us. I see you. Don't worry, I see you. There's some wonderful costumes. If they're costumes. Are they costumes?" The audience yells back with a resounding "No!" source video

every night my chemical romance performs, they look out to a crowd of visibly queer people staring right back at them. my mcr show was the first time i saw my trans best friend able to walk into the men's bathroom with his head held high. recently there has been a huge onslaught of anti-transgender laws across the world. i'm sure we've all seen posts pointing out that gerard's cheerleader dress they wore in Nashville would now be illegal. the new tennessee bill bans "male or female impersonators who provide entertainment that appeals to a prurient interest." many people have claimed the bill is 'only' about drag performers, as if that would make it okay, but we know that is not true. right-wingers have proven time and time again they view trans women as nothing more than "female impersonators". they treat transgender bodies as nothing but a fetish, or a prurient interest. they argue against gender-affirming medical care on the same phone they use to watch transgender porn. they believe transgender identity and queerness is a costume. it is something we can take on and off. something they can ban and eradicate from their country. but it's not a fucking costume. it's who we are.

which leads me to the encore. this was the only show during their tour with a planned one-song encore (excluding festivals), and that song was their most famous of all time, welcome to the black parade. the band walks back on stage and the only thing gerard says is

"Be who the fuck you are." video

an incredibly important statement that has always been a core part of my chemical romance's message. but with everything that's been going on, with frank saying one of his favourite thing about these tours is "g being able to just be himself", with gerard's gnc outfits making headlines, i feel like that was the perfect sentence to close the show

[rainbow-crane]

got a totally random rush of Emotions about Chihiro's gender so hi let's talk about how the entire account of Chihiro 'totally being a cis dude guys' is told by Monokuma, the guy that later goes on to fake a suicide note and falsify an entire class trial just to be pissy. Ah yes top 10 most reliable narrators ever of all time, yes, yes, very convincing

Not to mention in the exact same fucking motive he's very obviously purposefully warping the truth and lying to the cast's faces?? Within the 'embarrassing memories' motive Mondo's is a warped version of the truth. "Mondo killed his own brother" but he didn't, and just about everyone is able to grasp that one. He indirectly led to the accident, but Daiya made his own choices. So wouldn't the same logic apply to Chihiro's motive? "He dresses like a girl but actually is a boy" sounds like you're actively warping her own life experience to send her into Despair.... which is Monokuma's primary character motive.... crazy how that works........

And now, a compilation of every line Chihiro delivers in her own backstory, without the narrative padding from Monokuma explaining to you why this is totally her hating being a woman and wanting to be a man

"Now nobody will be able to say anything about 'even though you're a boy'..."

"I'm... weak... Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak, weak...!"

"Now's my chance..."

"I'm going to get stronger... and accept who I am..."

"Strong enough so that when someone says 'even though you're a boy' it'll be okay. I'll get better!"

"Maybe talking to Mondo about it will help give me some courage..."

So yeah, once you pull out the unreliable narrator. You get like, 6 lines total. 1/3 of which specify that she IS AFRAID of people saying "even though you're a boy". Now, call me crazy, but if we're genuinely arguing that Chihiro is a cisgendered man, why the hell would she say the equivalent of "I need to accept being a boy. Gee, I sure hope no one calls me a boy while I do so!" That's. That's inherently contradictory. More than anything, looking at Chihiro's lines as the most reliable source of Chihiro's thoughts about herself, it starts to look less and less like a man who wants to rise above being gnc and be a true manly man, and more like someone who's about to get fucking outed and mocked by Monokuma and trying to do damage control, steeling herself to be called a man and strengthening her mind and body to prepare for said outing.

Earlier in chapter 2, Chihiro is already thinking of starting to try working out, but is too afraid to enter the lockers because she's well-aware she can only enter the boys' locker rooms. The inference that Makoto comes to is that Chihiro is an individual trapped in a killing game that couldn't defend herself verbally in the library the morning prior, and is visibly the physically weakest in the class. Ergo, perhaps she wants to be able to defend herself better? Well, neither of those facts that lead to said inference magically change after the discovery of her dick, so perchance, the reason she wanted to get stronger was still so she could defend herself both verbally and physically?? The ONLY reason you'd have to come to the conclusion she wants to reconnect with her assigned sex is because she is being actively threatened into it by Monokuma's motive, or if you take Monokuma's story at his word, that he'd speak respectfully of the dead. Just like he did with every other character in that game, right?

Also, it's worth noting that in the actual conversation-turned-spiral between Chihiro and Mondo before Chihiro's death, neither Chihiro nor Mondo actually talk about Chihiro's gender, only her strength and desire to destroy her weakness. Yes, Mondo is using he/him in the voiceover, but the entire class is atp, and again. Using that as genuine evidence falls flat because we see in that very same scene that Mondo WAS NOT completely present for that conversation. He saw Chihiro's willpower and spiraled, conflating Chihiro with his brother and lashing out in a ptsd-induced blackout.

Also also, if you're gonna argue Chihiro has no reason to need to get physically stronger unless it's to be more masculine, A) Sakura exists in the same game, and B) please god look up any statistics on the amount of violence trans teens receive. That alone is a perfectly reasonable justification for a trans woman to want to be able to defend herself, especially when locked in a place where you cannot escape your potential aggressors.

TLDR Chihiro is legitimately more believable as a trans woman, and every intervention attempting to explain otherwise comes from a character defined by his love of twisting the truth for the sake of causing suffering. Hi hello does anyone hear me

[olderthannetfic]

I have really mixed feelings about the small proportion of F/F fiction (original or fanfic), because yeah sure, people have their desires, they should write what they want, I get it. It all works out when I hear it from person to person. But somehow the logic only ever applies in one direction? "There are more male protagonists because men only care about male characters! Women also mostly care about male characters, because that's the majority of characters they get!" And then somehow we also yet kvetch when men write female characters (because it's incorrectly or something, nevermind if women are writing male characters correctly). Why don't we expect gay men to feel compelled only by femslash for the same reasons (but gender swapped) as the lesbian slashers/fujoshi? All of those very rational justifications are applied selectively, "for me for not for thee," and it all only leads to "idk I just don't wanna write femslash", for Reasons. Do we get to call them microaggressions yet?

--

No, you don't get to call other people's fantasy life a microaggression.

That is indeed "for me but not for thee" in the sense that you get to want what you want but other people aren't supposed to follow their id.

Do you also police gay men who spend too much time on drag and obsessing over female divas? That's an actual real world behavior that's somewhat equivalent. It frequently goes unchallenged, at least by progressives, because men are allowed to do whatever they want with chick stuff, while women are "stealing" if they dare to stray into dude stuff.

(God, I've seen so much more policing of drag kings being ~problematic~ for acting out stereotypical gender than policing of drag queens for the same. It's nuts!)

Fujoshi are often queer, but it's absurd to think we're mostly lesbians. We tend to be bi or asexual women with gender stuff going on, though there is a mix of everybody, including lesbians. There are also a lot of AFAB non-women who get lumped in with us. On the rare occasions I find a man willing to admit to being a similar demographic, he usually does like gender play in his hobbies and entertainment. It's just that men face even more pressure than women do to fit into tidy categories. Bi women get told we're whores. Bi men are told they don't exist.

Yes, I know plenty of lesbians who write more m/m than f/f, but in the big picture of all of AO3 or all of fanfic or all of media, they aren't the demographic driving these numbers. They're vastly outnumbered by the bi women, the asexual women, and the straight and gnc women.

The men we should be looking at as an equivalent aren't cis gay men but bicurious soy boys and the like.

Do most of us fujoshi object to equivalent men doing an equivalent thing? I've seen it sometimes, and I agree it's hypocritical. I'd like us to afford men the same ability to play and take on identities in their art. I remember enjoying Ranma fandom back in the day and reading quite a lot of f/f that was probably by men. It had some of that same sense of distance and fantasy that I so enjoy in m/m aimed at fujoshi. (I do consume some by-cis-gay, for-cis-gay content, both m/m and f/f, but it's often too literal and too bound up in specific named identities for my taste.)

On average, the people I see complaining most about men producing f/f material are the same people who think that because I have a clit, I should center my life around women exclusively. In other words, people spouting radfem ideology, perhaps on purpose or perhaps without realizing.

I do agree that some of the ways of expressing a lack of desire to write femslash can get pretty douchey. I want us to move away from some of the less accurate ones like "There are no compelling female characters" because of this.

But the reason for all these jerkass explanations is that women and people perceived as women who like m/m are constantly asked to explain ourselves. These aren't usually microaggressions: they're openly hostile. People get defensive and try to answer with important-sounding reasons about identity and pain because society at large won't accept "I like this" as the true explanation.

Pleasure is never enough of a reason for a woman to do something.

[tirfpikachu]

when someone says that women weren't allowed to do xyz until a certain date mainstream tras might give a side look like hmm :/ this isn't inclusive of trans folks... but otherwise leave it alone.

but if you say that specifically cis/bio women and transmasc ppl weren't allowed to open their own bank account until 1974, suddenly you're making the transfems feel a bit too privileged and it causes a riot bc you're pointing out that amab/male folks used to have an INSANE amount of privilege on the basis of being born "amab" and even if they were super gnc, they still had that privilege from birth. to this day, cis/bio men and transfems do NOT go thru many specific struggles that cis/bio women and transmascs experience. but that's somehow controversial as FUCK to say in most tra spaces. why?

fr why is that? why?? why are transfems so fucking oversensitive to anyone pointing out that they're not oppressed on every single axis of oppression? meanwhile transmascs are bending over backwards being super fucking supportive of transfem rights and having so much nuance about things without much knee-jerk defensiveness at all. could it be that perhaps... hmm... "amab" upbringing does not teach amab/male folks what it's like to face misogyny, so they often do not enter feminist spaces, and now that they enter leftist spaces they don't know that we're all about intersectionality and nuance and acknowledging the ways one might be privileged in some ways and disprivileged in other ways? instead of showing allyship to cis/bio women and transmascs, transfems and their more extreme allies instead sit on their thrones and get offended whenever anyone implies that they might need to be good allies too. why is that?? why are cis/bio women and transmascs enabling that behavior so much?

hmmm it's almost like how afab/female folks are conditioned to excuse inappropriate behavior from amab/male people from a very young age... almost like the stereotypical One Of The Boys (in this case Males) trope, trying to be a Cool Girl (or Cool Trans Boy) to be validated by the ones in charge, the amabs, who are just poor sweet misunderstood cinnamon rolls uwu. i think mainstream tras really idolize transfems. which comes from a sweet place, and might feel good, but also means you're infantilizing them like precious perfect little princesses who can do no wrong. that might be validating for transfems ─ who doesn't like being coddled every now and then? ─ but also means not holding them accountable the way we're supposed to hold EVERYBODY accountable in leftist spaces. or at least that's what we generally pride ourselves in, right? isn't that supposed to be a leftist thing? intersectionality and all that?

and this is why so many cis/bio women and transmascs are joining radblr. this is why even some transfems are saying okay, this is too much now, and actually seek out female/afab voices and hear their povs and apologize for how they're treated by tras. the tables are starting to turn. people are too fed up with this shit. we are getting muzzled for talking about the most basic feminist stuff ever, things that back in the day oldschool trans folks were WAAYYYY more likely to see as common sense and feminism 101. systems of oppression are complex. you can talk about how hard transmisogyny is, and you'll get sympathy from most of us, but you gotta listen to how hard anti-female/afab misogyny is and how we're uniquely persecuted in specific ways you aren't. and you gotta work hard to learn how to be a good ally to us, you gotta research, you gotta learn. so many transfems have no fucking clue how to do that. so many cis/bio women and transmascs are acting like their loud guard dogs too, coddling them, speaking for them, enabling them. it's leading to really bad shit to happen. it's enabling transfems-on-female/afab abuse and bigotry... and you just sweep it all under the rug, say it was just a "terf" roleplaying, it must be a troll, it doesn't matter. it's just one or two victims, why should we even care about them? why make any changes to prevent further victims? that's such a classic male apologist mindset!!! this shit is not okay. we will never accept that bs.

you need to clean up all the misogyny and homophobia in your spaces or the only sane folks will come to radfems and find actual nuanced discussions about oppression, and you'll be left with crazies. if y'all are gonna act like oversensitive toddlers then radblr is gonna be where it's at for real leftist activism. enjoy your little tra circus ig 👋

[abyssal-debonair]

“Masculinity and patriarchy are one in the same” is one of the ideological pillars of patriarchy. It frames masculinity as something that can only be affirmed via a dominance relation and renders all forms of counter-hegemonic masculinity invisible. Ceding that territory to patriarchy only serves to erase the butches, trans mascs, trans men, nonbinary people, etc. who explore and live out subversive forms of masculinity. We would be far better served by understanding masculinity as something that patriarchy attempts to capture, rather than something it inherently owns, therefore shifting our understanding of masculinity away from seeing it as a component of the enemy and towards understanding it as continuously contested territory. Patriarchy attempts to enclose masculinity, rigidly define it, tie it to domination and control, and punishes all unsanctioned expressions of it. This capture is not inherent nor is it complete. Trans and gnc people have been undermining that project since it began! Many of the positions explored above take for granted that masculinity is a real and consistently definable phenomena: invented, made material, and defined by patriarchy alone. They assume that patriarchy’s word on masculinity has been the only real word, cis men’s understanding of it the only real understanding of it, its deployment in rigid gender roles its only possible manifestation. Cis men have been at the wheels of centralized power and thus have had more means to make their own voices drown out the rest of us, but subversive masculinities have always been here, have always been a threat to the patriarchal narrative. Many also assume that when queer and trans people refer to masculinity we are always referring to a masculinity that at least gains its meaning from patriarchy. It is time to inform you that your imagination up until this point has been disastrously stifled. Certainly, popular conceptualizations of hegemonic masculinity are inherently patriarchal and gain their meaning from that system. However, it is too far to assume that trans people are always referring to the same framework of masculinity that cis men do. We create our own meaning even as we expand masculinity to the point of meaninglessness. I take testosterone and am seeking top surgery to affirm my womanhood. Glitter, dramatic eyeliner, platform boots, and extremely slutty deep-V shirts validate my sense of my masculinity as much as work boots and button-ups do. Some of us are simply not referring to patriarchal masculinity when we are doing masculinity and what we’re doing is not new. Not only is masculinity not inherently patriarchal: masculinity is not inherently anything at all! Masculinity, femininity, and all gendered terms are vibes-based only and vibes are always changing with people and context! They are not real! Their utility is in play and self-exploration and any insistence of inherent reality beyond that will itself necessarily refer to patriarchy.

read the entire essay by Lee Shevek (@butchanarchy) — she does an excellent job breaking down the problem with conflating masculinity with patriarchy, especially how that leads to vilifying masculine people who are harmed by the patriarchy.

[calebwittebane]

alright can i just say something.

can I just voice my opinion can I be heard. this post Bovvers Me. now i know this is a joke post. but in reality, in practice, as it has been released into the world, its a half-joke-post. it gained so much traction because people really do think like this and not for entirely self-deprecating ways--though that would be bad too. listen, when it comes to LESBIAN GAY BISEXUAL TRANSGENDER sex, being submissive is more readily accepted in the culture that is afraid of sexuality, because to a certain degree it appears to remove involvement and intent (which of course in reality it really doesnt, and the idea that it does has been used by predators to obscure abusive dynamics, but i digress). being dominant, being horny without guilt, initiating and "leading" the scene, it involves a level of earnesty that many people are scared of. it is Cringe to them even tough they crave it, but what they want is an oscar worthy performance that hits all the unspoken levels of subtleties and post-post-irony, done by someone without feelings or boundaries or different levels of comfort, who is just here to act out someone elses fantasy and leave. it is a dreary picture of gaysexhavers SO afraid of being earnest, so intent on needlessly judging and policing others all because they do it to themselves first and foremost. a pursuit of joy and understanding gets trampled over by the need to appease The Shame and The Voyeur and The Peer Judgment and to conform to norms even in privacy. the notion that its shameful to be horny, that wanting things is predatory, that youre making a mistake and committing a sin to even be doing this in the first place. the need to have someone to project anxieties and shame onto, the need to look at someones "right" to have a sexuality, unspoken social currency, self-policing. moreover, when a person is designated inherently less deserving of normal things like safely expressing desire, kept perpetually afraid of unknowingly becoming a predator due to some intrinsic quality of theirs, their boundaries are more easily trampled over and their safety is not as readily taken into consideration. not to mention that such pathologizing of agency and expression mirrors the same old dehumanizing patterns found in wider society, as it ends up harming those most marginalized within lgbt spaces--POC, especially Black people, trans women, very gnc people, disabled people, and so on.

TL;DR - people will think and talk like this and then be like "where are all the doms..." this and "no one wants to top..." that

[biohorror-human]

Trans people may or may not have popped off with the "block every radfem you see" idea because holy shit. You are all some of the most pessimistic and spiteful fuckers on earth. You all claim not to be bio-essentialist, and then turn around and say shit that is, at its core bio-essentialist. All of your ideas, in some way, revolve around hurting someone else. Want to destroy the gender binary? Certainly attacking trans people will help. Want to destroy child marriage? Tell people not to marry brown people, just, ever. Want to destroy the patriarchy? (This is the best one) Never organize, never protest, never coordinate, just sit around and cultivate a nightmarishly toxic environment and then have the GALL to ask "why are people so open about their disdain for radical feminism?"

Because all your ideas are rooted in hate. The last time I've had discussions this fucking bleak with people is when I got into an argument with an actual self-described Nazi. Btw, I know you radfems are super exclusionary and refuse to cooperate with any other social group, but maybe Nazis would be up your alley? Considering they also have an affinity for eugenics and wanting to eliminate general swathes of the population, I think you'd be great for each other.

I mean, just to list some of the bullshit you people constantly say which doesn't line up with any of the other shit you say: "trans and GNC people destroying the gender binary (which is good because we radfems don't like the gender binary) is actually BAD now because we were using that gender binary to call all men oppressors, and now we have to actually confront what specific societal issues enable someone to be an oppressor, instead of just saying that being a man makes you an oppressor (which is bio-essentialism, which we disagree with, unless you're amab, in which case then bio-essentialism is actually something we super-agree with)

And that's just one of the ones that I actually went into the effort of tracking down. In terms of shit that I've just seen on a whim: you say you hate bio-essentialism, but also people born male are naturally more oppressive. You say women should have the freedom to do whatever they want, unless that "want" is dating men, because even if they're happy in their relationship, they're actually secretly sad and lying. Because since when did feminists hold the belief that women could understand their own emotions? Pretty clothes are also bad, because men like to look at clothes. Nevermind what the woman behind those clothes thinks, you shouldn't be able to enjoy anything for any reason because a man might look at it and also enjoy it for a split fucking second.

You know what that last one makes me think of? How abusive husbands tell their wives that they can't wear revealing clothes because it will attract the gaze of other men. But history is obviously not your forte, because if it was you'd understand that the only way social movements like feminism prosper is if they cooperate with other social movements, a concept you could really stand to learn a thing or two about. Another cool historical fact is that segregation is, historically, frowned upon. But I still see you talking about how white women shouldn't date brown men, and how asian women shouldn't date white men.

You know, they actually made a haven for people like you. And no, this isn't going to lead to a "Nazi Germany" bait and switch. It was a place where women could only marry into their own race. Where police were around every corner. Where women actively ratted out people betraying that law. Where women were literally not allowed outside past a certain time. It was South Africa under fucking apartheid. You believe, on a fundamental level, the same shit that traditionalists (nazis) and conservatives believe in. You make yourselves miserable as a form of protest, but because your circles are so exclusive, the only people there to witness your misery are other radical feminists. You're creating a hyper-dense misery sphere that doesn't even take that pain out on the patriarchy, only on other women. You have absolutely, undoubtedly got to be the worst rebels in the history of rebellion. You're literally making the patriarchy's job easier by pre-misery-ifying women. You're streamlining the misery process. I've never seen another social movement do that.

I think the only thing you guys actually accomplished was making men who cared or were curious about your movement equally miserable. You know what I got when I tried to join the radfem discussion? When I made the MISTAKE of trying to learn about your cause to better support it? I got fucking berated. you people finally had a man WILLINGLY come up to you to internalize your ideas. And you know what you chose to say to me? When I had a question, you mocked my voice. You compared me to an ogre, or a giant. You said women SHOULD be scared of me because of the way I was born. You said I was a natural-born rapist. You spoke about how my androgens made me develop into a beast- made me resent my own body, on top of how I already dissociated with it. You demonized any thought of sexuality, shot down any idea of body-positivity. And even then, even after all that I thought it may have been positive. I thought maybe it made me stronger, that maybe I was more like you because I was able to see the flaws in my own biology. Nah. You just wanted me to be miserable, like you. I was your willing punching bag for all of your anger and resentment. You're the femme-fascist matriarchs of self loathing. The only boiling bucket of crabs who not just drags the crabs trying to escape back in, but actively coaxes new crabs to join. You want a revenge story in a world where revenge only leads to more suffering. Your definition of equal is only met when every man is twice as miserable as you. That's not a world anyone, man or woman or anything else deserves to live in.

I have a bunch more shit to say but even thinking about you miserable fucks is starting to rub off on me. Fuck the patriarchy. Trans pride rules.

[doublekanble]

hunting

Alastor/reader (gnc)

romantic-platonic (a bit more romantic if you squint)

word count: 4.1k

mention of roaches, "thats my boy" was used once but it's not a real gender indication. fic can be sums up to 1. bugs 2. throwing a body in a lake.

You’re an odd admirer of bugs, always have been. Even when quite a number of them creeps you out to no end with their lanky legs and weird autonomy, you still admires them with all your heart. The spiders in the corner of your ceiling always get let out when it overstep. The centipede dropped by the corner and thrown out the back door. Killing them is almost always the last and final option for you. And yet, out of the bunch, there’s always one thing you can never bring yourself to ever see in any remotely positive light.

Roaches. Those disgusting creepy little things.

Your friends and family finds it absolutely hilarious (and useful) how you react at the mere mention of a roach being spotted, much to your dismay. Having time and time again and again encountering the thing in circumstances less than ideal—in your own kitchen for example, you have a habit of throwing yourself at the chance to immediately get it out of your sight, hopefully dead and crushed once it does; even if it’s at the cost of your beloved ivory handkerchief. But now, as you sat completely still on the sofa with dirty hand and unfocused eyes, you spotted something from the peripherals of your vision.

There’s a roach on the floor.

It’s a long-standing problem, considering how the lodge itself is placed neatly near the edge of a bayou, one that won’t be touch tonight, he remarked before you two step foot into the place. Otherwise, there’s only so much one man can do to keep his place clean; he reassures you that it’ll be gone soon, as soon as you’re done with this. Waving his hand and smiling, he head off to the kitchen to look for something. Your eyes followed him out of the room, before turning to the roach. It’s antennae shifting up and down, examining and searching for food as it crawl up and down the area. At least it seems like there’s no interest in you.

Once he returns, Alastor would teasingly chide you for not helping him as he turn his back on you, vest and what else now on the other end of the sofa, beginning his work. It’s ok, you’re new to this, you’ll get used to it soon; he said kindly. You don’t want to dwell on the thought of it.

From behind, you listen to his humming, a new tune he played some days ago on his broadcast. It would’ve been so endearing, but you can’t feel your legs and your thoughts are drifting too far away for you to really get a hold of. The only thing in your eyes now is the roach that’s crawling by the severed left thigh. Always a bad habit of yours that he insisted was sincerely charming to him, how easily rile up you are by the small and tiny woes of life. The little play dates and meet-ups you dreaded going despite promising a friend to, an awkward conversation. They’re all things that anyone can withstand with ease, but you do so while stumbling on your feet like a fawn. Utterly charming and adorable, he’d insisted.

(because then he can always be there for you, he once said. if you ever find yourself in a tough spot, your dear old Alastor will always take you by the hand and lead you from your troubles)

You don’t tend to think a lot about what he love to say around you, or even at all. In all honesty, maybe you could’ve seen the sign a bit earlier; in the way his smile is all teeth and wide, but never reaching his eyes, to anyone except you. In the manner in which he always take a hold of your hand and lead you through the empty street of New Orleans, diving into speakeasy after speakeasy in the middle of an on-going depression out of his own pockets and always seated you where you can always see him even if he’s on the other side of the place, always seated you somewhere he can keep an eye on you. Maybe in the way he sometimes would hold you in his arms for a bit too long for normal friends and your arm would accidentally brush by something a bit off and out of shape, at the side of his right torso and hidden behind 3 layer of clothing.

You could’ve acknowledged the sign way earlier, but you’ve never had a friend like Alastor. And it was so fun watching him live his life while letting you stand by his side, you could even forget about the serial killer roaming the street at night, the one he would have news about every noon and would exclusively deliver them just to you in the hope of keeping you safe.

Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, he might as well be doing it just to keep you by his side for longer, knowing how your interest wane at a single mistake. But for your dear old friend, Alastor? Who’s charm and laughter is always uniquely his, who always care so much and always try to keep you safe, who walked you back to your house at the early morning hours and who always place a gentle kiss on the hand he held securely and tightly in his.

Painfully and hopelessly, all you can ever do is to trust him. Until one day you can’t. And it took everything in you to walk away that time.

(you told him once, before all of this nonsense that for him, you will go to the end of the world. and he smiles. you would’ve never known that, ever since then, ‘end of the world’ means end of your world.)

A sudden movement from his end have you jump in your seat. He only turns around and gives you a sheepish grin, with his eyes crinkled in a way that he only preserved for you and his mother.

“Apologies for startling you, dear. It was getting on my nerves.”

You look to where the cleaver was just a second ago. On the floor, right by his knee on the tarp covered floor—now with a tear, red bleeding below and seeping into the wooden board, staining it—sat a hand chopped squarely in two, and a roach, stick-like limbs still twitching. Subconsciously, you inched yourself to the end of the sofa, not minding the thought of your hair touching his vest as much.

He smiles again, although this time, it’s as if he’s looking at a dumb pet backing into its cage. If you bring it up, he’ll probably laugh. So, you look ahead instead and try to focus on the deer head hanging atop the fireplace, it’s beady eyes the same color as the thing Alastor’s dissecting in the middle of the lodge’s sitting room.

“Y’know,” he started with a small laugh, voice light and airy, in that same way, he talked about poetry and music to you, “I wasn’t sure whether you would tell anyone.” It was pleasant then, but now it’s like you’re back at the local meat shop with its owner still alive, still intact. The disgusting metallic stench combine with the damp air and his brutish voice, so much harder to listen to compared to Alastor’s, almost made it seems like a funeral of your own. You’ve never felt safe in that meat shop, but now you’re somewhat torn on the thought.

“You looked so horrified; I was sure that would’ve been the last I ever see you. It would’ve broken my heart, and I wouldn’t have blame you for it, too.” He’s the most vindictive person anyone will ever know. “You’re such a charming little thing after all! Always with that benign heart of yours… And if you were to stop coming around, my mother’s heart would simply break into two!”

He pauses, as if reminiscent, you wish he stay like that for a bit longer, but the sounds of bones breaking and snapping under cleaver returns as he diligently work away. There’s a saw somewhere in the lodge, you’ve seen it once before- while searching through his tools for a screwdriver. A decently sized one, as long as your arms with blade just as jagged as it was new, but Alastor would never keep anything that’s not useful. Somehow, you’re sure he’s using the cleaver to prolonged this. The fact might be horrible on its own. But then again, you’re not too keen on knowing the noise a saw made going through actual bones. His good intentions carry itself through for once.

“She can take care of herself, yes, I know. God knows nothing on this round earth can knock her off her feet. But having you around to talk with-“ his mother is such a kind woman. A gentle and warm person, you can see how some of his doting nature came directly from her. But by God, how did she ever give birth to such a devil? “you know how she always praises you when you’re around? Why you should’ve seen how she is when you’re not! I’m beginning to think I’m not her favorite child anymore!”

(his mother is lovely, but his voice’s is getting so, so very annoying. Like a bug. Like a-)

“I would never dream of hurting you, too.”

It tears you apart, how he said it with such conviction. As if he would never take the chance once you give it to him. And there’s no mistaking the genuine happiness in his tone as he looked at you for the final time, sending you a beaming smile when your eyes accidentally met.

“I’m so happy you called me, mon Chéri.”

He sounds so, so sincere. Word as sweet as the praises he sings about his mother, as kind as his eyes. It doesn’t alleviate the distinct gnawing of something sharp and horribly choking lodging firmly in your throat. You can’t find it in your heart to reply to such a loving gesture right now, and you hope you will never again. And you know he doesn’t need you to, either. The fact you’re here is enough confirmation for himself.

So yet again, with ease, he gleefully chatted away at you while walking back and forth to prepared for something, wanting to give you a book from an author you loved but having trouble finding their work, he hoped you won’t mind waiting for a bit longer. All while you’re having trouble concentrating, that screeching, inconsolable cries—like a screeching pig—replaying over and over in your mind. You were never a believer, but still, you pray he didn’t blame you for his death on the way down to hell. You didn’t even know a person can looked so utterly unlike one, no wonder the roaches loves the death.

(you know that it’s beyond useless to even pray, you might as well having dragged him to the underworld by hand yourself. but with how the wetness on your hand already solidify into a disgusting layer of crust and the image of a dead man hanging behind your eyelid, it’s all you can do to pray this night away)

Briefly, the sight of the vermin flashes through your weathered mind, and you feel sick for thinking about how easy it would’ve been to have let the thing crawled into the man’s ears.

----

“Ugh-!”

“Do you need a hand over there dearie?”

You didn’t bother to respond to his coy inquiry, choosing to adjust your grip awkwardly around the sack in your arms. It was somewhat an inner debate on whether you should’ve thrown it over the shoulder or just carry like normal despite its shape. But the thought of getting any speck of blood on your back somehow grossed you out more. That and the possibility of the rocks he puts in there leaving a bruise if you throw it too harshly.

“Oh, what am I saying. You got more than enough to help yourself! And a few extra limbs too!”

“I wouldn’t have needed anything if you didn’t throw in those damn- What do you even need them for?!”

“Come now, you kiss my mother with that tongue!”

He laughs, hunting riffles over his shoulder as he does. But he still takes the time to walk back a bit and wait just in case you fell over. After assuring himself that you won’t going to trip, he slapped your back all good-nature like—nearly sending you on your knees—with an enthusiastic “That’s my boy!” and strutted ahead again, steps now noticeably slower than before. You try not to think about why he’s doing all of it.

Walking through this specific forest, even with a dead body in your hand, brings back memories. One you would’ve love to keep safe from him despite everything, but nothing was ever up to you.

Alastor brought you here from time to time on his hunting trip to try and get you used to his hobby and the idea of tracking prey. Under the excuses of you being his favorite little person to bring anywhere. Initially, you were extremely reluctant to even come out of the city, but he won you over anyway, all but begged you to and dramatically claiming he’ll die soon if you don’t.

After that, it’s him taking the time out of his busy life to set up little test and lessons for you that he—very proudly and enthusiastically—would declared much better than what he have to go through as a kid. Even going so far as letting you, a beginner, to take a hold of his prized Remington that he otherwise never uses except for “big games” he boasted about in broad details, but never enough for an accurate guess. You would even think he’d caught a mystical beast by how little details there was.

(“Ah, but this one, this is a sly one~. It slipped from my hand multiple times that night, running to and fro without a care in the world. I nearly lost my life to it!”

Wriggling his fingers while presenting a story about how he chased down a prey through the woods that kept running despite the shots and wounds he gave it. you laugh without a thought about what the game was to be that resilient, long giving up on guessing.

“What? Did the thing knock you off your feet and ran off? Well deserved, honestly!”

He smiles.

“It wished it did darling~.”)

Alastor loves to laugh at how you failed every single test he put you up to, your hands was always just a bit too shaky and the noise just a bit too loud for you to ever get used to, especially with how spaced out the lessons are, giving you time to completely forget what it feels like to hold something that can kill you both in a heartbeat. By your fourth session, his jokes start to turn a bit personal. Never anything outright mean, if you don’t know him well enough. The type of thing that would’ve been normal to hear, but was said in a specific tone, with a specific look.

(“At this rate, if anything bother to come by, you’ll be deader than a doornail, love!”)

As if he’s disappointed in you; as if he was hoping you can pick this up faster for any other reason than to have a hunting buddy alongside him. You never understand that part. His social circle was—and always will be—big enough that you’re willing to bet your left leg on the fact at least two of them can handle a gun better than you can hold a pencil. But it has to be you, he all but insisted.

One day, you said something that have him stood frozen next to the five cans he placed in a neat row, with only one lying pathetically on the floor. You still can’t get a read on whatever the expression on his face was, having only caught it by a single tick of a second before he laughs a laugh from the bottom of his chest and deemed you unbefitting to ever hold onto a weapon.

(“If anything were to come by!” you’re all-but whining at this point, playing up your annoyance and trying to cover up the slight hurt at his tone. you can tell he’s getting irritated, and it only serves for you to be more annoying because goddammit you’re the one sitting on the wet grass with a hand nursing your poor, poor ears after hours of practice at his behest. the rifle sitting silently in your lap, in your hand, it’s utterly useless.

“You’re supposed to protect me! Throw yourself in front of the bullet for me! I would do the same for you, y’know!”)

Ever since, he would keep you out of it. Both from his prized rifle, the forest, and the lodge. You wished he keep it that way forever.

As he lead you through the unfamiliar forest and onto a trail you’re much more acquainted to, you feel cold sweat running down your back, making the burning heat inside of you all the more uncomfortable. You begged from the bottom of your heart for this one thing to at least remained intact. But the trees parted in a circle and the trail end. And in a single night, what’s left of the blissful and blind days you have of Alastor shatters and dissipate.

(it was nothing more than meaningless jest on your end, a norm for you both. something for him to call you weak over and you two can just laugh and put this off for some other day when your hands isn’t shaking and you can barely hear yourself over the howl of your heart. but when no retort came, you look up, searching for him.)

“There we are! Sorry for the long walk, but I want tonight to be an absolutely unforgettable night for years to come, mon Chéri! And what better way to make sure of it-“ you begged him to not turn around, to please don’t look at you in the eye, please stop breaking everything and leaving you to the dogs, “then to celebrate your first successful hunt here!” but you can’t say a word. And Alastor is the most selfish man you know.

“Utterly breathtaking of a sight tonight too. We should go here more on our outings, really. And- Dear?”

“Why…?”

You realized you’re already on your knees in the grass and dirt when he stalked back, towering over you and the remains of something you can’t mustered the will to remember the name of — stuffed enough rocks and what-else to keep it still below the water surface for however long it takes once people took noticed of yet another disappearance. Your hands unsteady as you try to crawl backwards inch by inch. There’s an electric current running through the back of your head and for a moment, you realized you’re shaking. It slipped from your mind the moment he sigh.

(You pretend not to noticed it, at that time)

“Through your nose, darling. I would love to carry you back home, but I think you wouldn't be too appreciative of that idea right now.”

Immediately exhaling, you’re rooted in your spot on the ground as he dropped down and leans into you, brushing hair from your face with a tenderness that makes you want to burst into tears.

“I was sure you would’ve come around to this by now, mon Chéri. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“I never wanted this.”

You must’ve looked like it too. Enough for him to try and console you, but with his facade off, he sounded so horribly callous. So incredibly heartless despite holding your shoulder and offering you his.

“And yet you told me his name.”

(but you did)

“But I never wanted you to-“

“You could’ve called out to me to stop too. You know I would’ve.”

You’ve always detested his idea of consolidation when it’s related to what he would, or have, done. Once it came down to it, it was always about convincing you.

“You’re so selfish…” and you’re so tired, so worn out and so, very spent. Two long week and multiple letters and phone calls to your home from day to night, with that man following your every step and standing outside your window at night. Facing terror with no end in sight and not a person to trust after begging for help time after time. Except from the worst person you’ve ever known. “You’re so, so selfish…”

“Call me anything you fancy, darling. But I’d be dammed if I let these worthless vermin think for a second more they can play around with you.”

His words are so incredibly selfish, but despite it all, you can’t help but letting yourself fall into him with all of your hagged self. Because in spite of it all, he's the only person who would hold you close and place his head on top of yours so tenderly. In those two miserable weeks, you've done everything someone in your position could ever do. Every number on the telephone was called before his. Every person asked. Friends and family all contacted and not a single person can or will do a single thing to help you. The irony of the situation follows even now.

And even despite everything. You can't help but to sigh as you grip on him just a tad bit tighter.

“The lake…”

He perks up a bit at that. Even when you can’t see his face, you know he’s arching an eyebrow.

“How many…”

“Oh? So that was what you’re so fussy about?” he let out a light laugh, as if caught off guard. It wasn’t everything, but Alastor pushes on, “Why, this would be the first one! I want this to be special, since the lake itself also have quite a special spot in my heart. Although your reception was a bit…less, than what I was hoping for. But oh well! Always next time!”

As he stand up with you in his arms, you want to put your foot down for once and said that there’s not a next time, there won’t ever be a next time. You’ll catch a train by morning with only a name to your pocket and the clothes on your back and leave for the other end of the world. You honestly would’ve, but the way he murdered that man comes right to mind. And even with everything he told you, you don’t think you can ever make it out of that train alive if you leave him.

“Now what do you say with finishing this up for the night and go back to rest, mon Chéri?”

Left with no option, you took one end of the sack and he took the other. While he all but dragging the thing by himself, you’re left to wondered how your life will be from now on. At the edge of the lake and at the end of your normalcy, he counted down to three and you both let go at the height of the swing and watch the sack dance in the air for a brief moment before plunging down.

The moment it hit the water, the muddy mirror reflecting moon’s light taking a hold of it and drags it down to the bottom of the lake with not a lick of hesitation. And as you stands over the water’s edge, staring down at your own reflection, you think about how this is like a wedding ceremony, with all the anxiety and none of the love. A mockery in the making. And as he takes your hand in his, appearing next to you in the depth with a gentle and disgustingly familiar grin, you finally realized that you are going to hell with him, the worst man in your life and the only person who will ever hold his hand out to you. And it was all you could do to not laugh at this misery.

(glee, absolute and utter glee. as if it was a confirmation to a question he never ask. since that day, he seek you out with much more fervor, and in turns, you always wait for him. you hoped that maybe one day, when his interest wane and attention grow spares, whatever you said that day that put you so deep into this and earn you so much of his favour would be enough for him to keep you alive)

[justaz]

maybe balinor stays with hunith to raise merlin and camelot guards come thru and find them and kill them but hunith gets merlin away before she is killed too. druids taking in emrys and raising his as one of their own, because he is. merlin with druid marks and tattoos....long curly hair....the epitome of androgyny...so pretty omg. merlin/emrys growing up learning all sorts of spells and rituals and growing into his power faster than in canon

droolingg......meerlni....raise dby drudis