#and women if you want to be called fag you have to ask it’s not nice to call a lady that (unless it gets her off)

[esoterictboy]

me being bisexual is so funny like I like women and fags

[issdisgrace]

THE START OF BILLY HARGROVE AND HIS METAL HEAD BF RELATIONSHIP

WARNINGS: Use of the word fag, nothing else​

A/N: There will be a part 2 in the future eventually.​

You and Billy officially met when you two were paired together for a History project. Both of you hated the idea of having to work with each other because why wouldn’t you.

You two were complete opposites. You were a 6’2 metal head that wore corpse paint, band tees, and arguably way to many rings. While Billy was a 5’10 blonde hair blue eyed fuck boy that drove a loud ass car.

So it was no surprise that you both asked the teacher if there was anyway to get a different partner.

Unfortunately or rather fortunately the two of you couldn’t get out of doing the project together. While neither of you really cared all that much for your grades you both needed to pass the class and the project would count as 50% of your grade. So you both had to do it whether you liked it or not.

Anyway you begrudgingly both shared your information with one another and planned to meet up at your place that Friday to work on the project together.

Eventually Friday rolled around and Billy showed up late as always in his blue 1979 Chevrolet Camaro.

To say Billy didn’t want to be there was an understatement. Fortunately for him you had all the information the two of you would need to put together the project.

So things went smoothly and you two talked back and forth as you worked getting to know each other.

Which was when you both found out that you shared a genuine love of cars. This definitely helped your guys acquaintanceship and made the project go by quicker.

Anyway in the end the project only took you guys 3 hours which was less than what you both expected it to take. After you guys finished Billy left your place and that Monday you guys presented to the class before you both went back to strangers.

You two stayed strangers again for 2 months until Billy had a problem with his Camaro and didn’t want someone he didn’t know touching his baby so instead of taking it to a mechanic and knowing you worked on cars, he showed up at your house asking for you to look at.

You were of course surprised by this visit and even more surprised when he asked you to take a look at his Camaro. You of course agreed and took a look. It ended up being something real easy to fix so you.

So you took off your rings and handed them to Billy for safe keeping. As you bent over the Camaro fixing the problem.

Billy quietly watched you from the side as you worked on the Camaro. He took note of everything about you from your height and build to your clothes and corpse paint.

As he watched you he felt something grow in his chest. Something all too familiar. Something that he frankly hated. Something he wished to ignore specifically being in this shit hole of a town.

This town wasn’t all to found of people like him. People that liked same gender. But Billy would never call himself a fag sure he liked men but he also liked women. He had no clue what he was but he knew he liked you.

Maybe it was the fact you were so openly yourself and didn’t care what others thought of you or maybe was it the way you held yourself and talked. Who knows because Billy certainly didn’t.

As you were finish up Billy realized he needed to pay you for your work somehow. He wondered if you were gay and would go out on a date with him as payment.

“You’re all set. Your baby should be working at 100% again.”

“Thanks……Um would you maybe want to go out on a date with me. It’s all on me, I just want to um pay you back for your work.”

“Sure that’s fine with me. I’m free this Saturday if that good with you.”

“Yeah that works for me.”

“Well it’s a date then.”

[shootingstarwritings]

A Beta makes, an Alpha takes

TW: homophobic slurs

Eduardo Garcia was a content creator who, like many others in his field, lived in the SolCal area. He was a self-described ladies man and an amateur pick-up artist. Most of his videos and livestreams focused on giving life advice for men. That night was the same as it always was, with Ed saying his catchphrase, “A beta makes, an alpha takes,” to his impressionable audience.

Once the stream ended and he counted his donations, Ed made his way to the bar. It didn’t take long for him to find another girl to screw. His type was always the same: eager young women new to town and looking for something deep and steady.

After a long and sensual session, the girl whose name he forgot asked if what Ed wanted for breakfast that morning. She had wanted to cuddle, but Ed’s protests kept her at bay. Ed pretended to think for a while before saying, “I’ll treat ya. It’ll be a surprise,” before kissing her.

Around five the following morning, Ed snuck out of her apartment having lost zero winks of sleep that night. ‘Not my fault there’s so many suckers in this town,’ he thought to himself, grinning the whole way back to his apartment. ‘They wouldn’t fall for fellas like me if they had a lick of common sense. I just do what I do. If they don’t wise up then it’s on them.’

That morning should’ve been like all the other ones for Ed. He was in a fantastic mood to grab a quick bite and then spend some time in the gym after scoring as hard as he did the night before. However, just as he reached the floor his apartment was on, he caught sight of his neighbor standing unusually still.

Carlos was exactly everything that Ed hated about the SolCal area. They were in the same field as influencers, but Carlos focused more on “Affirmations of the self,” and “Queer rights,” and other stuff Ed had long-since forgotten about. Carlos had gone to great detail to explain, but Ed had mostly tuned out whatever didn’t relate to Carlos’ follower count or the cash he was making. Knowing the two would never get along, Ed preferred to avoid Carlos altogether, even if he did secretly wish the two would collab so that Ed’s follower count would grow.

Yet, on that morning, Ed couldn’t take his eyes off of Carlos. He stood in front of his apartment door, staring blankly ahead. A few moments passed, but the man didn’t even blink. Ed knew he should just leave him along and mind his own business, but a nosy part of him urged him forward.

“Hey man,” Ed called out, “You okay? You’ve been standing there for like an hour or something.”

Carlos’ head immediately snapped towards the direction of Ed’s voice, causing the latter to nearly jump out of his skin. “I was unable to court another female,” said Carlos in a stilted, unnatural tone. “I was reviewing what I did wrong. Forgive the intrusion.”

‘Court another female. So the fag’s trying to get with chicks, now?’ thought Ed before being struck by a genius business idea. “Good on ya, man!” Any prior concerns about Carlos’ odd behavior were discarded to the wind as Ed wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “Good to see ya swinging for the right team. ‘bout time you dropped all that fag shit,” he said, pointing a thumb to the pride flag hanging on Carlos’ door.

“Fag shit…?” echoed Carlos, but he didn’t offer any resistance as he was guided to Ed’s apartment.

“You came to the right place, my friend. Nobody knows how to pick up the ladies quite like this lady-killer.”

“You kill them?”

“Ha-ha! Aw, ya crack me up, big guy. C’mon, I’ll give ya a few pointers.” For Ed, giving Carlos several of his lessons and even showing him the streaming setup was an investment. He was gaining much money from doing this, but all he needed was to win Carlos’ trust over and he’d be swimming in new subs and a brand new market to sell. There just had to be guys who played for both teams on Carlos’ faggy audience, he assured himself.

After about half an hour of coaching, Carlos repeated Ed’s lessons like a college student cramming for a final. “A beta makes, an alpha takes.” For whatever reason Carlos seemed particularly fond of that phrase.

“We’re the men. The providers! That’s why we gotta remind this pussified society who’s really in charge. The alphas,” said Ed, flexing his bicep to punctuate his point. His body was one of the few things he had worked honestly for. Steroids and diets were a frequent topics in his online rants. To Ed, if one couldn’t get a body like his naturally, then they couldn’t call themselves a real man.

“And this has worked to acquire mates?”

“Mates? Bro, I’m swimming in pussy. And soon you will too,” said Ed. He lightly tapped Carlos’ chest. “With a bod like this? It’ll be even easier. Stick with me and I’ll get you laid. Just, uh, don’t forget ‘bout that collab I mentioned.”

Carlos, after what seemed like an eternity of stone-cold stoicism, finally cracked a smile. “Yes, I would love to collaborate with you.”

“Awesome! Lemme get something to celebrate.” It was still early in the morning, but it was always five o’clock somewhere, right? Ed made hi way over to his fridge and pulled some of the quality beer. The cheap stuff was reserved for those rare moments he had a girl over. “We gotta celebrate this new friendship of ours, my man. I got--!”

Carlos tackled Ed as he walked back to the living room. The two crashed onto one of his couches in a mess of struggling limbs. “Yo, what the fuck, man?!” cried Ed. He tried to push Carlos off, but froze as he saw Carlos’ body convulsing and his eyes rolling up, showing the whites. Seizure? Stroke?

Before Ed could reach for his phone in his pocket, Carlos leaned forward and locked lips with him. As soon as the two made contact, a slimy creature flowed from Carlos’ mouth into Ed. Once the substance made contact with Ed, his body began unresponsive. He tried to struggle and push Carlos off of him, but his arms remained heavy and limp. More and more of the slime pumped into Ed until Carlos’ body, unconscious yet still convulsing rolled off of the couch.

Ed couldn’t move but he could still feel a chilling sensation spread throughout his body, filling him up. The slime crawled down his throat and began to expand inside of him. Most of it traveled down his esophagus and began to assimilate his core, arms, legs, and toes. Each limb seized and shook as it became corrupted by the invader.

Ed tried to scream as it fell the creature fill his head and coating his brain, yet he could do nothing but endure the sickening yet pleasurable feeling. It was filling him up, and for whatever reason, Ed couldn’t help but enjoy the way the creature dominated him. His body, still unresponsive to his pleas for help, merely humped the air and sensually moan as it was taken over.

Eventually, Ed blacked out. The last thing he perceived was his hands touching his face and his own laughter.

~~~

‘Please, give me my body back,’ whined Ed.

“Give it a rest, Ed,” the creature possessing Ed said, grinning to himself. “Thank you for providing this impressive specimen, by the way. I quite enjoyed the takeover.” He tilted his head as he read the magazine. “Hmm, you are well-endowed, indeed. Perfect for my mission.”

A few days had passed since the creature slithered into Ed’s body. Ed had woken up to see his body piloted by some kind of foreign invader. Despite Ed’s pleads, it refused to give up control, saying, “I’ve been needing a strong and virile specimen to breed and spread.”

‘You can’t fucking do this to me! It’s not right,’ Ed begged from the recesses of his own mind. ‘I’m a human being. I don’t deserve this!’

“Your mind is intact, is that not enough for you?” the creature said as he jerked Ed’s cock in the couch. “You could have ended up like my previous experiment. Right, Carlos?”

“Right you are, my alpha,” said the thing inside of Carlos. Ed tried to look away from Carlos’ naked and puppeted body, but the creature didn’t have the decency to give him that.

Carlos was not the creature’s first victim, but it was the first that didn’t suffer massive brain damage from the creature’s invasive efforts. However, the creature still hadn’t quite managed to access Carlos’ memories and personality. It had managed to figure out the basics and just needed one more attempt to do a proper possession. Ed was the creature’s first success, and it wouldn��t be the last.

“What else do you wish, my master?” said Carlos as he eagerly marched over to Ed, swaying his hips and sticking his ass out as he spoke. “Do you want to breed me once more? Fill me up with more of your spawn so I may go and spread?”

While Carlos hadn’t suffered brain damage, but the trauma of the invasion caused him to become catatonic. To remedy this, Carlos was the first one to received the creature’s spawn. The creature, riding high thanks to Ed’s disgust at the homosexual act, fucked Carlos’ body and let one of its children pilot the still-living husk.

“Please, act a bit more like your host would. Keep reviewing the videos.” Ed mentally screamed to himself as his invader forced him to say that. Even if the creatures had little idea as to how to blend in society, the sheer amount of content that Carlos and he made would guarantee that they had plenty of references for impersonating them. “Later, I’ll pump you full. I just… need to explore this body of mine a bit more.”

Carlos cleared his throat before giving a sweet, nonchalant smile. “No prob, my man. Later we should go out, though. Get familiar with the area.” He winked and said, “Later,” just as Carlos always did.

‘Please, let me go,’ Ed tried once more. The idea of the creature doing this to his friends and family, acting like him the whole time, was a hell he couldn’t bear. ‘I-I’ll even hook you up with another better. Better bodies, just please let me go…’ Ed internally sobbed.

“You’re quite pathetic,” the creature sneered as it violated Ed’s body once more. “Where’s your bravado, Eddie~? You were swimming in pussy just a few days ago. Now you’re pounding men and craving cock.” Ed’s body let out a malicious laugh as ropes of cum erupted from his stolen dick. “It’s like you always said. A beta makes, an alpha takes.”

[alphajocklover]

hey there. My name is Derek. Im your average, slightly overweight gay guy from Chicago. I work as a pretty decent graphic designer downtown. And honestly, my life has gotten boring. I’ve been with the same guy for far too long. And I sometimes wish I could be one of those loud, obnoxious straight dudes you see at bars. You know the ones I’m talking about. Total jerks who make rude and crude comments to women. Muscles so big. Obnoxious loud clothing. Yeah. Is it weird that I want to be the most hated straight douchebag in the world? Haha it’d be so different

Hey Derek! I’m glad you reached out. You’re asking a question a lot of gay men have asked throughout history: Is it weird that you want to be a straight, buff, misogynist douchebag? Are you a freak because a part of you wants to be the kind of guy you’ve always hated? You’ve always believed in being proud of your sexuality, in treating everyone, especially women, with respect, in common decency, equality, and respect. Usually you’d find those straight, cocky jerks as obnoxious as anyone else. But just like a lot of men (and sometimes women), both in and outside of the LGBTQ community, there are times where, even though you know you shouldn’t, you wish you were one of those guys. It’s hard to say why people get this strange desire. It could be that you’re jealous of their bodies, how they’re so muscular, beefy, and powerful. It could be that you admire their confidence, the way they cockily smirk like they rule the world. It could be that you long to be like them because, despite their flaws, they’re the manly men that society has always told men we should all be.

Or it could be that you know, deep down, that they’re what you were meant to be. That they’re what you could have been, should have been, and would have been… if you hadn’t been turned gay.

Before we continue I wanna make a few things clear. Being gay isn’t a choice, you can’t cure gayness with dumbass abusive therapy, gay people do not turn other people gay, and homosexuality is a perfectly natural thing that some people just are. But… not all people. There are some people in this world, like you Derek, who have been turned gay. You were supposed to be straight. In fact you were supposed to be a straight, beefy, misogynistic, douchebag. But someone changed you, derailed your fate so that you’d be different. They saw you, didn’t approve, and so they went back in time and changed you. It’s not just you either. There are thousands of supposedly gay men who are really straight douchebags who got turned.

The group of people responsible for these changes are mysterious and covered in shadow. Those who know of them call them the SAD, the Society Against Douchebags. Not much is known about them, just that they come from the far future and use a strange machine to go back in time and change the lives of certain straight douchebags through manipulation and futuristic technology. The reason you were always so unathletic and heavy? You had nano machines working against you, keeping on the weight and taking down your endurance. The reason you could never seem to say the right thing and always embarrassed yourself around cool guys? They’d use those same machines to make you feel awkward and uncomfortable so you’d say the wrong thing. The reason you’re gay? They altered your brain chemistry.

But I know someone who can help you turn back.

A group like the SAD, one that so recklessly changes the timeline, doesn’t go unnoticed forever. Eventually another group formed, one that fought back against them. They call themselves the Douchebag Revolution. They’re exactly what they sound like. Straight, buff douchebags who either didn’t get targeted for one reason or another or were saved from their false lives and wanna take down the people who tried to destroy them. They go around, liberating guys like your from their fake fag lives, fighting the SAD and living that douchebag lifestyle.

Personally I try to keep out of their whole time war thing. I don't think what the SAD does is good, but time travel is so fucking complicated I’d like to avoid anyone who uses it all together. Plus the Douchebag Revolution is pretty homophobic, so they wouldn’t accept an actual gay guy like me in their ranks. But I do have a few contacts in the Douchebag Revolution who tolerate me. I could get you in touch. They have a way to reverse what the SAD did to you. A serum. It’ll make you exactly what you always should have been: a straight, beefy, asshole. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to take it. You can stay this way, always wondering who you would have been. But I don’t think that’s what you want. I can see it in your eyes. You know what you are.

You’re a douchebag. Welcome to the Revolution.

Don’t worry about your boyfriend. Either he’s an agent of the SAD or he’s a fellow turned Douchebag. Either way your new friends will help you take care of it.

**another G2S story. I know they’re controversial but they’re so much fun. Definitely going to revisit the douchebag Revolution idea sometime.**

[artificial-transmutations]

Can you believe it?

10.02.2024

Can you fucking believe it?

As most of you know, I'm working for LifeCorp, and you won't believe what they just did to me! I'm pissed!

My job is, apparently, becoming 'obsolete' with the whole AI thing bla bla bla. But! Of course, they don't want to fire me. Instead, they're offering me alternative positions. So far so good, right? But do you know which positions they offered me?

- Security Guard

- Janitor

- Escort

Not that bad, right? I mean I don't have the skillset for any of those, but that is apparently no problem, because these jobs come with a fucking mandatory life change if I take them?

Apparently, my usual charming self is not enough:

What kind of bullshit is this? Normal companies ask you to move if you want to keep your job, LifeCorp requires you take on a whole new body, just to keep working for them.

You think that's outrageous? It gets better. Apparently, none of those jobs is suitable for a woman. I can be a male security guard, a male janitor or a male escort. And when I complained about it, they just said that for security guard and janitor, a strong body is a requirement, and they have enough female escorts already. What a bunch of assholes! There's absolutely no way I'm gonna take one of those jobs.

Love, Tracy

***

14.02.2024

Have you seen LifeCorp's newest shit post? The valentine's day special? The audacity!

Stacy and Zara are now fricking men? No doubt they have been bullied to make that change. You know what this company has? A fucking frat-boy attitude. More and more people are becoming guys, "BeCaUsE tHeY wAnT tO". Bullshit. It's clear to me that the upper management wants to see more dick in their company. Probably a cocksucker like Stacy and Zara have become. I'll talk to them first chance tomorrow.

Oh, and Matthew? Why would anyone want to become a Latino?!

Love, Tracy

***

18.02.2024

Okay, I talked to Stacy and Zara (No, I won't call them "Steel and Zacharias", these are still women!). They were all "Oh, we're so much happier now" and "We're finally being our true selves" and "You should do the same, really."

It's a fucking brainwash. I mean, they haven't been right in their mind to begin with (they had the delusion of being a couple - ha! Couples are one man and one woman, nothing else!), but it's becoming veeery clear to me that they have been forced and brainwashed. And I will find proof for that!

Love, Tracy

***

18.02.2024 - 2

Okay, I'm fuming now. I told my boyfriend about that whole job situation. And you know what he said? You know what he fucking said?

"Ok. Do whatever makes you happy."

He just said "Ok" and was all cool about it! He even had the audacity to tell me that they didn't force me to do anything and that I could just find a new job if I didn't want any of that bodies.

But the best part is still to come. He said, and I quote, "Just make sure to ask them to make me gay if you take any of those jobs, so we can still be together." I mean... wow. That's a reason for a breakup just there. He's a fricking man, or at least that's what I thought up until now. The thought of becoming gay should have been something that made him sick!

But, oh no. He's fine with it. Disgusting! I need to re-think this relationship.

Love, Tracy

***

19.02.2024

I have a plan!

I'm going to accept one of LifeCorps offers. No, hear me out. I'm gonna accept - and then I'll sue them. Discrimination, kidnapping, something like that. I'm gonna be rich. Oh, and about my boyfriend? He's gonna have it his way. I'll make sure they make him the fag he begs to be and then break up with him. This'll teach him. Good thing he doesn't read this feed.

I'm just too clever for this world. Take that, LifeCorp!

Gonna take the janitor, though. With all their fake diversity and stuff, the guard and escort probably aren't even white.

Love, Tracy

***

22.02.2024

I just got a letter congratulating me on my choice and that they are happy to keep me as an employee. Ha. If these losers knew.

Love, Tracy

***

26.02.2024

Holy shit! How do you guys even walk with that thing?

Needless to say, I got my new body. Here's what I look like now:

Apparently, they meant it well with me, cause my new dick is just... enormous. And they gave me some huge balls to match it, too.

The muscles aren't all that bad, either - I just feel big and powerful all around. The hair will take some getting used to, but it's not for long, after all. After I sue them, I'll demand my original body back.

I do have to admit, I'm feeling good, though. So much more powerful, but calm and happy at the same time. I wonder if this is a guy thing or a me thing? Is that how my boyfriend feels all the time?

Oh, gosh. My boyfriend. He's probably gay already, so I should break up with...

But that would be really mean. Also, thinking about him just made my new member react. It's kinda straining my underwear now. These things really do have a mind of their own, right?

What was I writing about? Yes, my boyfriend. Why did I want to break up with him? I mean, he's just cute like a button, right? I just realize what a gigantic asshole I was, planning to break up with him. I'll have to apologize. Or, even better, I'll apologize by showing show him this huge package I got. That's what he wanted, right?

I should really go. Don't want to keep him waiting.

...

You know what? I think I'll try out this new life before I make any more rushed decision. So far, I enjoy being a dude a lot and I'm actually looking forward to my new job. And my new-old boyfriend. And they didn't even force me to do anything. Perhaps I should ask them to adjust my ethnicity later on, though - I feel a bit more adventurous now. Also, I think I'll go by Trace now. It's an unusual name, but I like it.

Sorry for being such an ass before. Well, speaking of ass - off to get some.

Bye!

- Trace

[brimleysbears]

(Featured media: Burl Ives and Rock Hudson - from The Spiral Road, 1962)

"Fan" fiction erotica - "Hollywood Confessions: My Date With Big Daddy"

Post 4 of 4

Epilogue:

A Horny Old Bull

To conclude, I was in fact on the pill, after all, it was 1963; therefore no, I didn’t begat a cute little chubby Ives child, although sometimes I wish I had. Although that man could be a bit of a creep at times, like most men I suppose, I’ll never forget that night with Big Daddy. In fact, as much as it was embarrassing, there were other reasons why I kept that story to myself after all these years. I admit, that was the most fun I’ve ever had with a man. Sometimes I question whether I was head over heels in love with that big old brute.

As much as I wanted to see him again, I found out soon afterwards that he had actually scheduled all of those men to see him that night with the intention of not telling me, while planning on having sex with me, in order for the meetings to coincide with his coitus. I never found out exactly why he did that, and if it was his intention to use me or not. I was angry for a season and never wanted to see him again after that, but looking back, I regret not seeing him more times. I would have liked to get all of his seed in me and looked at him face to face the entire time that he had his climax. I would have liked to try other things with him, and maybe even be his mistress when he was working in Hollywood. The more I learned about what probably did happen, was that he was proud to seduce a young dancer like myself, and although I don’t like to be someone’s ‘bragging rights’, in a way I felt honored. One of the older ladies at the Manhattan cocktail party said, “sounds to me like he was just trying to get those businessmen off his back and find ways to taunt them.”

As I spoke to my girlfriends late that night, finishing my story, one of the women remarked that, perhaps that lonely old man being away from home needed a special companion, and not another ‘high-profile figure’ like himself? As we talked, one of the more educated ‘uptown’ ladies said, “if you ask me, like a lot of men in show business those days, he was desperate to try to prove that he was a heterosexual; in a similar way they constantly had to deliver proof they were not some kind of communist as well. After all, Mr. Ives worked closely with a lot of queers like Tennessee Williams and was even filmed naked along side a half-naked raging fag, Rock Hudson, just a year or so before your ‘encounter’. Although I might say there’s probably a little pink in his blanket, Big Daddy sounds like a man who was not ‘light on his feet’, in fact, quite heavy handed like your story implied, which I found to be most intriguing. I think you’ve not only made a believer out of all of us in the room, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of us are going to start chasing after men like Sebastian Cabot – you’ve certainly piqued my curiosity about a kind of man I would have not previously considered and for that, I am indeed charmed.”

But it was another lady who might have had the best explanation: “did you ever consider the fact that although Big Daddy was a bit of a sex symbol in the 50’s, that Burl Ives in the 60’s was starting to get typecast too much in children’s and family shows to the point where the public was referring to him as asexual? If I were him, I’d want to prove to my collogues that I was a fully functioning sexual person with sexual needs and abilities. After a while, no matter what he said, chances are, his peers didn’t believe him until he found a way to show proof that he had a thriving sex life.” Maybe they were all correct. Maybe he was just another creep. Maybe he was someone really special. I do cherish those memories, and I still keep his private calling card with me in my purse all these years.

The End.

Copyright 2024 BrimleysBears

Feel free to share posts, however please copy only with permission, thanks, BB

Part 1

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743973229412106240/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

Part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743962348439666688/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

Part 3

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743868840199536640/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

Part 4

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743867190420307968/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

[genderqueerdykes]

I (21 AFAB) honestly feel like my femininity is more like transfemininity than cisfemininity. I'm autistic and intersex(ish? I've got hypoestrogenism) and spent a lot of my life (10 to 20) identifying as transmasculine. I've had top surgery and I was on testosterone around 3 years. I was cis male passing at 14 and 15, and again at 19 through...uhh... now sorta. I still pass as a young man (although people might think I'm a trans boymoder) if I speak in "guy" voice. I'm seen as female enough to not have any issues in women's restrooms since I started using them, but I stay quiet and use the men's room if I look too masc. I identify I guess as a girl, but not as a cisgender one, and not in the way that a binary woman would call herself one. I also identify as androgynous (or an androgyne). I'm submitting this ask sort of hoping that it makes sense how I feel connected to transfemininity and not cisfemininity. I'm also wondering if anyone else feels the same?

heya! that's actually almost exactly my experience, and many other peoples'. i've been wanting to explain this for a really long time so i hope this will make sense

often times when someone afab or transmasculine transitions and either pauses or stays on a lowish dose of T, our genders get garbled in the eyes of strangers. i don't know how to say it any other way than: often times when trans people who have taken testosterone for long enough have gotten deep voices, 'masc' faces, facial hair, etc. are dressed in a feminine way they will get read as a transfeminine person. like this is an extremely common phenomenon

we instantly become fags and "those type of girls". like it really doesn't take much for queerphobes to perk up. a little 'gay/tranny voice'. a little too limp wristed. when they see strong jaws, Adam's apples, strong cheekbones, and long hair they assume MtF. if the trans person is packing or had phallo things can escalate further, especially if they have breasts.

it's poetic and a bit silly but sometimes people's experiences are so deviated from the standard definition of "man" "male" "female" "woman" that they have to, in a way, transition into that identity for the first time. a lot of intersex people, poc, gender non conforming, people, gay folks, non binary people, lesbians and butches have gotten heavily misgendered as children. sometimes you just were not allowed to be that gender you were assigned at first and it's okay if you feel you're transitioning into that, especially given where you're coming from and where you're headed

i identify as transfemme for many reasons, but this is one of them. i was NOT allowed to be a girl as a child. i was deemed too masc. my nose was too big. my hooded eyes were too masc. i didn't wear flowery or feminine clothing. i acted like a boy. i had a very shitty haircut because my hair was causing me dysphoria. my mom kept calling me butch and a bulldyke. nobody saw me as a girl. i never was one until i transitioned into womanhood as an adult. there i found out i love being a butch woman- but i've had to fight for it.

i also use androgynous and androgyne :)

it's okay if you feel like youre headed on that path. i have met so many people who fall under this umbrella of experiences. many people use transfemasc or transmascfem, some people just call themselves whatever. folks who feel the same feel free to share input. thanks for stopping by, let us know if you need anything else

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 6)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Smut, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 4,905

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5

“You really want to have this discussion now?” you sighed before reaching for the packet of cigarettes which you kept on the ledge of your chalkboard while leaning back against it. You were still half naked and your bare breasts were exposed.

“Considering the circumstances, I think that we must talk about it now. I understand if you would rather save yourself for someone who…” Robert began to say as you handed him your cigarette and before you interrupting him.

“Listen Robert, the fact that you are married doesn’t bother me and, clearly, it doesn’t bother you either as, otherwise, you wouldn’t have kissed me” you said before snatching the cigarette from his hand again, causing Robert to furrow his eyebrows.

“Now that, too, is presumptuous” he ought to point out in respect of which you laughed.

“Is it though?” you chuckled before expanding on the topic of fidelity. “I suppose your reputation precedes you. Despite, I know about Jean Tatlock and your affair with Ruth Tolman” you told him, causing Robert’s chin to drop. He sighed again and then he asked “how did you know?” to which, of course, you had already formulated a response in the back of your head.

“Women talk. Barbara Chevalier and Ruth Tolman are friends and I have overheard a few conversations between them since living here” you admitted to Robert before handing the cigarette back to him.

“Well, for the record, my affairs with these women are in the past. I have ended them both” Robert explained before inhaling the smoke of the cigarette without realising that, for you, the fact that he had ended those affairs, did not make a difference.

“Dr Oppenheimer, with respect, none of this really concerns me. I am not your wife” you chuckled, causing Robert’s eyes to widen. He was surprised by your attitude towards this topic and now regretted the fact that he had spoken up about it before he even had the chance to be with you, at least that once.

“I suppose we have officially passed the need for formalities, don’t you think?” Robert asked. “So please, call me Robert” he then said and you took him up on his offer while still standing there with the fabric of your dress stacked up over your hips and your bare nipples pointing right at him.

“Alright, Robert” you said before giving him a cheeky smile. “Now, let me tell you something about myself” you then told him and, sure enough, he was keen to hear about your thoughts on the current situation.

“I am a woman who does not believe in love or marriage, both of which are social conventions invented by human kind without any scientific backing whatsoever. In my opinion, questions concerning marital fidelity are minuscule in today’s society where one race is trying very hard to destroy another. We have bigger issues to worry about than our own emotions” you began to explain before snatching the cigarette from Robert’s hands again and continuing with your explanation. “What I do, however, believe in is physical and intellectual attraction giving rise to a connection between two people. I believe that we have such connection but, if you do not feel the same way, then perhaps you are right and this should stop now” you then said before disposing of the fag and stepping towards Robert again who looked both, stunned and confused.

“I haven’t met anyone quite like you and I am astonished by how mature you are at such a young age” he said in an almost whispering voice while caressing your face again gently. He was looking at you with desire and need again before, somewhat expectedly, pressing his lips onto yours for a split second before you pulled away from him once more.

“Unfortunatly maturity doesn’t necessarily translate to experience, as you will soon find out” you blushed, causing Robert to look at you in awe.

“I am sure you will do just fine” he teased, causing you to chuckle and roll your eyes all at the same time before you reached up and pulled his mouth to yours again.

The touch of his warm lips brushing against yours caused a thrill of excitement to rush through you. Robert’s kiss was soft, gentle, and then became more urgent as you opened your mouth to accept his tongue. Even though this was not your first kiss, you almost felt as if it was. This would be a night of firsts for both of you and your heart pounded so hard it hurt as you kissed him back fervently

“Come on” Robert then whispered after pulling away from you and guiding you towards the bed, which is when you quickly shuffled your dress down over your hips and disposed of it on the floor.

“Robert?” you then said with a husky voice before laying down on your back and looking up at him nervously as he disposed of the rest of his clothes as well, expect for his briefs.

“Yes? What is it?” he asked before joining you and hovering over you while caressing your face gently. He looked at you in awe and his eyes were reassuring.

“Take it slow, please” you whispered nervously before reaching up to run your hands through his hair.

“Of course. That goes without saying” Robert reassured you before he kissed you again and, this time around, he was deepening and lengthening the kiss, showing you just how much he wanted and desired you.

As you were kissing passionately, his hands reached around to caress you, causing your mostly naked bodies to rub against each other. Your bare breasts were now trapped against his chest and the feel of his warm body atop of yours caused shivers run down your spine.

Coming up to breathe, Robert eventually pulled away from you a little and, when he did, the tingling sensation he left behind on your lips made you smile.

Robert returned the smile you gave him and the smile that crossed his face warmed your trembling limbs and hid your excited nervousness. Despite the fact that you wanted this man more than anyone you had ever known, you felt somehow unstable when finally being faced with the idea of being intimate with someone else for the first time in your life.

The bravado you usually wore like a shield around him seemed to desert you, and even though you he couldn’t see much more than your face in this position, you felt naked under Robert’s heated gaze. You suddenly worried about your inexperience and you wondered whether this was actually a good idea.

Robert saw the panic of insecurity rise in your eyes, and he reached out to gently push a stray strand of hair behind your ear and grazed your bottom lip with his thumb before bringing his mouth to yours again. It was a slow kiss, deepening as his desire built even further. He knew he needed to go slow with you, take you gently and he hoped he could.

A hot rush travelled through your body as you responded to his kiss and felt his body shift, now enabling to graze his hands over your breasts.

“You are so beautiful” Robert then whispered before allowing not only his hands, but also his lips, to travel and you gasped as, eventually, you felt him nuzzle into your neck and trace your collarbone with his lips.

“That feels nice” you acknowledged as Robert was trailing his fingers over your skin and then you even moaned somewhat inadvertently when he brushed his fingers across your nipples. They surged under his caress and sent piercing streaks of arousal to your core. His caress was like a hot spark, and his touch excited you like you had not believed possible. You did not know how you could withstand his hands on the naked skin of your breasts for long but you knew that you had to try.

As Robert gazed over your naked flesh, you felt a blush creep up your neck. His eyes were so dark and full of lust, unlike anything else you had ever seen before and, just when Robert noticed your nervousness again, he pulled his hands away slightly, giving you some more time.

“Am I moving too fast?” he asked but you shook your head.

"No!” you groaned. “Touch me and kiss me again, please" you begged and you hoped that your voice would sound strong and self-assured. Unfortunately, you could not pull it off, and it shook with pure anxiety.

"As you wish” Robert chuckled before finally cupping one of your breasts and leaning down to slowly and gently swipe his tongue across one hard nipple.

"Oh my god" you whimpered as Robert teased the hard, little bud with his lips and rolled the other stiff nipple between two fingers.

“God, huh?” Robert teased. “I never expected to ever hear this word coming from your mouth…how unscientific of you…” he then joked just as you watched him lean over you.

“Just shut up and keep doing whatever you were doing to me. I am begging you, Robert” you joked for a moment while trying to pull his lips closer to your breasts again, which is when he took your thus-far neglected nipple into his warm mouth. He licked and sucked, alternating between the two stiff peaks, until you trembled and gasped on the edge of something you had never experienced before.

“Fuck, Robert” You felt feverish with excitement. Your mouth was dry, but your body was more alive than it had ever been before. Without him having even touched your mound, it was wet, yet felt as if it was on fire and throbbing with need. Shivers of anticipation shot up your spine, and you sucked your breath in raggedly as Robert dragged his insistent tongue down, letting it trail over your belly and to your navel.

“So perfect” Robert then murmured against your skin as he took his time exploring your body, trailing his fingers and mouth over your belly and thighs, before running them teasingly over the lace of your panties, making you moan loudly.

“Jesus Christ” you cursed, moaned and groaned in pleasure, causing Robert to look up at you and furrow his eyebrows.

“Don’t stop” you demanded as he was looking at you now with a cheeky smile having formed across his face and you tried to squirm up against him to simply gain some friction.

"I won’t, but I want to see all of you before I continue” Robert then said as his voice was thick with longing.

“Okay” you murmured in response, sounding desperate and anxious all at the same time. Your panties were moist, evidence of your excitement, and you were certain that he could smell your arousal as you hooked your thumbs inside the waistband of the lacy panties and wriggled out of them. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly excited by the expression on his face, as he watched you offer your body to him. His expression showed eagerness, pleasure and even greed, you thought. There was no sign of the trepidation you had expected to see there.

“Now you” you then winked and, without taking his gaze from you, Robert stripped his briefs off quickly, throwing them to the side of the bed.

When you saw his erection, your breath caught in your throat. This was the first time you looked at a man’s most intimate body part, and in your virgin mind, it appeared impossibly thick and long. Your mound throbbed at the sight of it, but your stomach churned in repressed fear.

Eventually, you decided to proceed and Robert’s hands moved slowly and tenderly over your body again, pushing the anxiety from your mind as they wandered over your contours and cupped your mound gently. You groaned softly as his fingers caressed the lips, wet with your arousal, and then slid between their moistness into the entrance of your pussy.

"You are so wet” Robert then said as he buried his face against your neck while probing your entrance some more.

“Uh huh” you moaned in response as you moved your pelvis in time with his probing fingers. They were curious and insistent and were creating marvellous sensations in your core.

“Oh god Robert. This feels so nice” you eventually groaned as you spread your legs wider but your voice faded as Robert took immediate advantage of your pleasure, dipping his finger deeper inside your wetness. Your hips jerked suddenly at the unfamiliar sensation of being penetrated.

"I am sorry. I will go slow" Robert said, realising that this was too quick and too soon for you and, just as he let his thumb circle and caress the hood of your swollen clit, he could feel the heavy beating of your heart. Its rhythm matched his own, but the throbbing in his groin was wilder than he could remember.

“This feels incredible” you spoke with laboured breath and took every ounce of Robert’s willpower to restrain himself and not plough into you immediately. The scent of your mound was driving him wild, and it looked so good. All soft, swollen and slick with your excitement. It was the most welcoming sight he had seen in a long time.

“I want to taste you. May I?” Robert then whispered and your eyes widened. You knew what this meant and the thought of it alone aroused you incredibly.

“Yes” you thus moaned and, unable to restrain his need to taste your properly, Robert kissed down your body again so that he could let his tongue slide through your glistening labia and taste your delicious essence as his lips sought out your fleshy clit.

"Oh, fuck! Robert. Oh my god!” you moaned, squirming under his mouth. Your nails dug into his scalp to hold him there. You did not want him to ever stop. His tongue was creating sensations in you that you had never experienced before. Masturbation had always been good for you. You knew how to use your fingers expertly to bring yourself to climax, but this was different. It was warmer, wetter and more teasing, with an intense build up that made you want to thrash around and cry out in pleasure and frustration. You rocked your pelvis against his mouth, your inhibitions fading into the background of the sensations he gave you. You moved with him, demanding more as he licked and explored you.

Eventually, a squeal of pure pleasure tore from your lips as your spasms started deep inside. You trembled and gasped at the sensations that raced through your body exploded in a wave of pleasure that radiated back throughout your body again. As the waves of sensation crossed each other, you swore you would pass out. You held on to the here and now, enjoying the wild ride, and when you opened your eyes at last, you found Robert smiling at you.

"Fuck Robert, that was amazing. I had no idea! Is that how it feels for you? I mean, would it work the same way if I did this to you?" you asked, boldly reaching out to caress the rigid cock pressed into your side, eager at the thought of giving him the same pleasure he had just given you. It was hot and hard in your hands, and a small trickle of precum dribbled from the darkly coloured tip.

“Properly” Robert acknowledged and you moved to a better position and bent your head to tentatively stroke the velvety shaft against the side of your soft cheek, before dragging the tip of your tongue over the crown. Very gently, you drew it into your mouth and sucked slowly, lovingly, savouring his meaty thickness. You were surprised by your own enjoyment of this. You had never even contemplated it before.

"Fuck, I won't be able to hold out for too long, if you do that for much longer” Robert groaned after fifteen minutes or so as he watched you latch your soft lips onto his throbbing hardness. You moaned, overcome with the sensation of having him in your mouth and the taste of his excitement.

"Then don't. Cum in my mouth. I am curious about what it tastes like” you said quite honestly after lifting your lips from his cock and looking up at him through hooded lids that only served to stoke the fire of his desire to even higher levels.

"No. I don’t want to cum. Not yet" Robert groaned nonetheless before he gently pulled you from his cock before pushing you back onto your back playfully. "The first time I cum tonight will be inside of you" he then grimaced and a rush of adrenaline shot through you as he moved between your thighs.

“If this is still what you want…” Robert then ought to confirm and you nodded eagerly.

“Yes. It is what I want Robert. I want to feel you inside of me” you told him just as you felt the heat coming off his body when he nudged himself against the moist outer lips of your pussy. You spread your legs, and he rubbed the head of his cock over your slickness. He hesitated for a second before, eventually, leaning forward and supporting himself with his arms.

He then pressed ahead, pushing himself into you slowly and carefully while looking for cues of any discomfort on your face. His attention was focused on the warm, wet feeling of your lips surrounding his cock. They opened slowly to him, and he slowly pushed himself into the velvety depths of you with a pleasurable groan. He hadn't been sure if he had been expecting the barrier of a hymen, given the fact that you admitted that you masturbated, but there was only a small amount of resistance to overcome as he continued to push into you with slow, gentle thrusts.

“Robert! Fuck!” you moaned eventually while digging your nails into his arms and shoulders. Your voice was tremulous and shaky as he filled you and stretched you beyond what you had known.

Hearing your tremulous moan, Robert thrust forward sharply now and groaned as he slid all the way up inside you. You winced and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying out. Your breathing was fast and shallow as your channel opened and stretched to take all of him. Despite the soreness and feeling of being overfull, it was a wondrous moment for you, finally knowing what it felt like to have a man buried inside you.

"You are so incredibly tight” Robert gasped at the snugness of you, barely holding onto his self-control. Now that he was in deeper, surrounded by your wetness, he was careful not to move, to let your get used to the feel of him inside you. It almost killed him not to plunge repeatedly into your pussy. His cock felt harder than it ever had and your cries of pleasure, knowing no one had ever made your feel like this, made him feel more virile, more potent than he ever had.

"You don't have to hold back Robert" you breathed into his neck as you clung to him. You wrapped your legs around his hips and raked your nails down his back as he sunk deeper into you. The eyes looking down at you were tinged with concern and fire, but you wanted his desire, his passion, to feel beautiful in his arms. You wanted him to make love to you, but you also wanted him to fuck you. You wanted to experience everything you had heard others talk about over so many years, all at once, even though you knew it was unfair to expect so much from this one man alone.

He moved his hips slowly, sliding his cock back and forth inside you, letting your get used to the rhythm. You moved with him, intuitively pushing your pelvis upwards as he slid into you. Each time he buried himself inside of you, your clit was trapped against the upper side of his shaft. You moaned loudly at the exquisite sensations and ground your mound up against him even harder, pumping back faster, until the sounds of your bodies slapping against each other and the squelching sound of their passionate fucking sent a wave of need and pure lust through him.

"Oh god. Keep going" you gasped, licking his neck and biting at his shoulders. "Don't hold back. Please, I need you to take me” you gasped again, unbelieving that you had said the words that chased around your brain out loud. You felt confident now. You felt safe. And you most certainly felt incredible.

Your words caused the blood to rush through Robert’s veins. He stared into your desire-filled gaze but, when his eyes locked with yours, a deeper connection hit him with more force than he had ever known with another woman before.

"Y/N. Oh god. I want you so fucking much” Robert groaned and since he didn’t usually swear or use the name of the holy lord, his very own words surprised him. Your name tore from his lips as he plundered your body, changing positions twice, before finding himself atop of you again.

His tongue drove into your mouth, sweeping inside, tasting, commanding, and taking what he needed. He could no longer restrain himself and he let himself go, fucking you the way he had wanted to ever since you had appeared in his life. With a growl of pure lust, he pumped his hips, plunging into you over and over. He could not get deep enough.

"Oh god, Robert. Take me” you moaned over and over again as he drove into you. Your body arched and undulated under his fevered lovemaking. The muscles of your channel clenched and spasmed around his length as a great bubble of pleasure rose up from your toes, engulfed you and burst into shards of explosive release that had you shuddering and sobbing.

"Let go for me Y/N” Robert groaned while he pinched your nipples, and you cried out again.

Your face and torso were flushed, your breath raspy, as you writhed beneath him and clawed at him while your body peaked again. You then cried out once more, and he lost it. A roar exploded from him as his body crested and he toppled over the edge. His length throbbed and pulsed, spilling his anguish and a steady stream of cum into you. He collapsed on you gasping, trying to regain his breath.

"Don't move, please" you said, your face still flushed with your excitement. You stroked his hair lovingly. "I like the way you feel inside me” you said while enjoying the little ebbing ripples from your tight walls against his cock. He smiled and kissed your lips softly and you continued this for a while until, eventually, he pulled out of you which caused some of your combined juices to leak from your slit and on to the sheets.

“So how did I do, Robert? Just fine?” you then asked just as Robert rolled to his side, facing you and caressing your face while you thought about this incredible explosive feeling he made you experience just moments ago.

“I actually cannot recall the last time I had sex that good” he gasped. His breath was still laboured as he looked at you and smiled.

“I am sure you say this to everyone” you joked after pressing a quick kiss on to Robert’s lips and before sitting up straight when, suddenly, it hit you and you came up with an idea.

“No, actually, I don’t” Robert said as he watched you get out of bed abruptly. “What are you doing?” he thus asked while you tippy toed across the room before standing right in front of the chalkboard in order to ask him a question.

“Have you figured how to get your hands on enough uranium yet? Because, going by my estimates, I believe that the US will never be able to secure enough for more than one bomb unless they work with their allies?” you then said somewhat suddenly, causing Robert to sit up as well and furrow his eyebrows.

“You know I cannot talk about this Y//N” he told you as you picked up the chalk and began to write down a formula.

“Alright, you don’t have to tell me anything. I do the talking and you take away what you want from it” you said as, still in your naked form, you wrote down a few calculations from your head.

“Y/N, your calculations don’t make sense…” Robert interrupted you until he realised that you were talking about two entirely different substances now.

“We aren’t talking about uranium anymore, are we?” he thus ought to clarify, causing you to chuckle.

“Well, you aren’t talking at all Robert. You can’t tell me anything, remember?” you teased before telling him that it was plutonium which you based your calculations on rather than uranium.

“Plutonium is too fragile” Robert pointed out which is when you dropped the chalk back on to the ledge of the board and shrugged your shoulders.

“Yes it is fragile, but it is powerful and you can extract more” you pointed out while, elegantly, crawling back into bed.

“It’s impractical nonetheless. It will be much more difficult to build a bomb using plutonium” Robert said while sill glancing at your calculations.

“Probably, which is why you need a bunch of people as smart as you are to figure out a way to make it work” you told him, causing Robert to pull you atop of him and kiss you again.

“There is something incredibly sexy about watching you calculate a reaction, completely naked, while talking to me about atoms” he then determined, earning him yet another quiet chuckle.

“If you say so” you teased while giving in to his many kisses and caresses.

“How do you feel about moving to the dessert with me?” Robert then wanted to know, causing you to pull away from him.

“You want me to come on to the project with you?” you asked somewhat surprised seeing that you were not even a postgrad student yet which, in your mind, made you unqualified.

“Yes. In fact, I think I need you” Robert told you nonetheless and with a great sense of determination, causing you to shake your head.

“You don’t need me Robert” you chuckled, seeing that he probably already had a group of well-known scientists on board, none of whom you could compete with.  

“But I do need you and it would just be you and me, working together during the day and then doing this at night” Robert responded to your statement while gently running his hands over your bare skin again in a suggestive kind of manner.

“Just you and me, huh?” you moaned before pushing Robert’s hand out of the way. “What about your wife?” you wanted to know, seeing that, no doubt, she would be there too.

“She has no desire to live in the middle of nowhere for a year or two, because this is how long it will take to make this bomb. She is not coming” Robert informed you while caressing your skin again, teasing you and making you ache with need and desire for him.

“Robert…” you gasped before his lips silenced you gently, kissing you passionately.

“Just think about it” he then told you after your lips drifted apart, causing you to nod.

“I will think about it and, maybe, there is a way you could make this proposal a little more appealing to me” you suggested just before you pushed Robert beneath you and assumed authority over him.

“How?” he asked while feeling your hand gently wrap around his hardening shaft.

“Well, for starters, you could fuck me again” you teased while stroking him.

“Right now?” Robert groaned while, again, you lined the head of his hard member up with your entrance, causing you to nod.

“Yes, right fucking now” you determined before sinking down on his cock, engulfing him completely, which was something you continued for a quite some time.

In fact, you made love for what felt like hours, up until one or two o’clock at night, following which Robert stayed with you, sharing a bed just like any other ordinary couple would until, suddenly, at 6 o’clock in the morning, you were startled by the arrival of someone unexpected, barging into your room.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

Tag List

@fastfan

@elenavampire21

@dolllol2405

@allie131313

@cilliansangel

@coldbastille

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@cdej6

@kathrinemelissa

@landlockedmermaid77

@crazymar15

@damedomino  

@lauren-raines-x

@miss-bunny19

@skinny-bitch-juice

@odorinana

@cloudofdisney

@weepingstudentfishhorse

@allexiiisss

@geminiwolves

@letsstarsfalling

@ysmmsy

@chlorrox

@tommyshelbypb

@chocolatehalo

@music-lover911

@desperate-and-broken

@mysticaldeanvoidhorse

@peaky-cillian

@lelestrangerandunusualdeetz

@december16-1991

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

@romanogersendgame

@randomfangirl2718

@missymurphy1985

@peakyscillian

@lilymurphy03

@deefigs

@theflamecrystal

@livinginfantaxy

@rosey1981

@hanster1998

@fairypitou

@zozeebo

@kasaikawa

@littleweirdoalien

@sad-huffle-nerd

@theflamecrystal

@0ghostwriter0

@stylescanbeatmyback

@1-800-peakyblinders

@datewithgianni

@momoneymolife

@mcntsee

@janelongxox

@basiclassy

@being-worthy

@chaotic-bean-of-smolness

@margoo0

@vhscillian

@crazymar15

@im-constantly-fangirling

@namelesslosers

@littlewhiterose

@ttzamara

@cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian

@severewobblerlightdragon

@dolllol2405

@pkab

@babaohhhriley

@littleweirdoalien

@alreadybroken-ts

@masteroperator

@stevie75

@shabzy96

@rainbow12346

@obsessedwithfandomsx

@geeksareunique

@laysalespoir

@paigem00

@lkarls

@vamp-army

@luckystarme

@myjumper

@gxorg

@eline-1806

@goldenharrysworld

@cristinagronk16

@stylesofloki

@faatxma

@slut-for-matt-murdock

@tpwkstiles

@myjumper

@cloudofdisney

@look-at-the-soul

@smellyzcat

@kittycatcait219

@theliterarybeldam

@being-worthy

@layazul

@lyn07

@kagilmore

@50svibes

@mainstreetlilly

@ourthatgirlabby

@bitchwhytho

@takethee

@registerednursejackie

@sofi128

@mrkdvidal1989

@minxsblog

@heidimoreton

@laylasbunbunny

@laylasbunbunny

@queenshelby

@camilleholland89

@forgottenpeakywriter

@vintagecherryt

@indierockgirrl

@mrkdvidal1989

@bluesongbird

@dudde-44

@gasolinesavages

@kissforvoid

@bluebird592

@1eugenia1isabella1

@esposadomdp

@lulunalua23

@lovelace42

@bookklover23

@iwantmyredvelvetcupcake

@moonmaiden1996

@marlenamallowan

@cyphah (cannot tag)

@majesticcmey

@cleverzonkwombatsludge

@throughgoeshamilton

@alessioayla

@elenavampire21

@justforfiction

@cilliansangel

@alannielaraye

@satellitelh

@pandoramyst

@duckybird101

@snixx2088

@kylianswag

@alessioayla

@pono-pura-vida

@iraisbored69

@howling-wolf97

@aesthetic0cherryblossom

@weirdo-rules

@lovemissyhoneybee

@dazaiscum

@esposadomd

@etherealkistar

@ur--mommy

@throughgoeshamilton

@celverzonkwombatsludge

@cyphah

@atomicsouldcollecto

@heidimoreton

@nela-cutie

@futurecorps3

@delishen

@nosebleeds-247

@thirteenis-myluckynumber

@gills-lounge

@hjmalmed

@lost-fantasy

@tiredkitten

@sidechrisporn

@smallsoulunknown

@charqing-qing

@hopefulinlove

@aporiasposts

@shycrybaby

@me-and-your-husband

@hjmalmed

@lacontroller1991

@galxydefender

@aporiasposts

@multifans-things

@galxydefender

@hunnibearrr

@saint-ackerman

@raineeace

@lunyyx

@gentlemonsterjennie1

@littlewolfiieposts

@ihavealotoffandomssorry

@tn22220-blog

@nadloves​

@lost-fantasy​

@noluces​

@mcavoy-girl​

@hjmalmed​

@yogurt567

@bloodybagels​

@obeyme4life​

@richiesgroupie​

@blushykiss​

[munsonkitten]

cw: sexual discussions, gender dysphoria (trans Eddie Munson pov), virgin Eddie, mentions of period typical transphobia and homophobia

It comes as a bit of a surprise, when Steve comes out to Eddie as gay. Even more of a surprise when Steve follows it up with and I’m attracted to you. Eddie has to remind him, with clenched teeth, bracing for the impact of rejection, that he doesn’t have the parts Steve wants. 

“You think I care what’s in your pants, man? You’re hot, either way. I’m just saying, like, I’d fuck you,” Steve says, blowing smoke into the air in front of him. He’s sitting against the side of Eddie’s bed, hogging the joint Eddie rolled for them both. “I’m also, like, really fucking high. So forget I said all that.”

Eddie reaches over the edge of his bed and snatches the joint back before Steve can bring it to his mouth again. 

He takes a hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs while he ruminates on, well, all of that. 

“You sure you’re gay?” Eddie asks, settling on that question first. He winces as he says it, his own internal hangups taking hold of him. He knows he’s a man, there’s no doubt about that. He’s been validated to hell and back by Wayne, a bunch of older queers Wayne is friends with, and the one doctor in the state of Indiana that has shown him any kind of compassion. 

He just knows how other people are. How, despite him knowing who he is, a lot of people just see him for his cunt and his tits. Well, not like he has much of his tits left, not after the demobats performed a botched mastectomy on him and left him with one and a half breasts. The doctors that put him back together wouldn’t remove the rest. He knows that Steve could just be getting some wires crossed — yes, he could be attracted to Eddie, but Eddie has to ask if it’s really because he’s into men and sees Eddie as a man, or if… If it’s the alternative. 

“Pretty sure, man,” Steve answers. He tilts his head back over the edge of the bed and looks at Eddie, where he’s lying against his pillows. “Like, I don’t think about,” he waves vaguely at Eddie’s body, and Eddie knows he’s being careful, like he can’t just talk about him without overthinking each word. “I think about, like, how you pinned me to a wall with a bottle to my throat and I think about how you hotwired that RV. I was definitely into you during both of those things, and I had no idea about, you know.”

And that’s true. Eddie’s been hiding it pretty good since he moved to town. Buzzed his head in his bathroom the day his dad got arrested. Had a pretty good feeling his pops wasn’t coming back from this one before he even left. Usually he took Eddie along with him, but that final time he left him with a pile of change and a phone number and told him to call Wayne if he wasn’t back by the next afternoon.

Wayne took one look at him when he showed up, asked him about the buzzcut, asked him what name he was going by these days, and then took him to meet some friends. Didn’t even have time to meet any other kids before he started getting tips from an older trans man that Wayne met years back. Since then, Eddie kept his head down, his chest bound, and never uttered a sound until he got on testosterone and his voice started to deepen and crack along with all the other boys. 

“Okay, well now you do know, so,” Eddie points out. He shrugs, takes another hit and then passes the joint back down to Steve. “You’d really fuck me? Pussy and all?”

“I mean, I’ve got experience with it,” Steve says. “I just don’t like women, is all. You’re not a woman.”

Eddie doesn’t really get it. How Steve can go from Hawkins’ biggest lady killer to lounging on Eddie the freak Munson’s dingy bedroom floor saying he doesn’t like ladies at all. Steve Harrington, who, and it’s no secret, called Jonathan Byers a queer a few years ago and laughed when his slimy friends called other boys fags. Yet here he is, saying that Eddie’s a man. So much of a man that Steve says he’s gay and wants to fuck him in the same breath.

It doesn’t make any fucking sense. 

“What about you?” Steve asks. “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Fuck me,” Steve clarifies. “Want to get fucked by me. I mean, hey if you’ve got a dick laying around, I’d let you put it in me, too. I don’t think I’m picky.”

Eddie sighs, dropping his head down to his pillow. This is where it gets tricky. Yeah, he’d have sex with Steve Harrington. Who wouldn’t? But as much experience as Steve has with pussy, Eddie’s a pussy with no experience. Other than a few drunken kisses in dark clubs eighty miles from home, he’s completely terrified of putting himself out there, and honestly for good reason too. 

Being gay in this town is hard enough, but if anyone finds out he’s trans, he’s fucking done for. It was scary enough realizing Steve knows, and he didn’t even have a choice in Steve finding out. Next time he tries to die, he’s gonna make sure he gets to a hospital instead of getting his clothes cut off on Steve’s parents’ bathroom floor. 

But yeah, Steve knows, and there’s no more risk of him finding out, and that’s pretty much the main reason Eddie hasn’t had sex with anyone, so. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he answers. 

“Cool,” Steve whispers. 

And that’s it. That’s all the conversation is. 

Steve crawls into Eddie’s bed and curls up beside him like they always do when he sleeps over, and he takes the joint from Eddie to take one last hit. He reaches over Eddie to put it in the ashtray and then lays back down.

“So, um,” Eddie says. Because he’s confused. He thought Steve was coming onto him. He thought this was a precursor for Steve coming in him. 

“What’s up?” Steve asks lazily, voice catching on a yawn. 

“Well, I’m glad we established all that, but, like… Are we not going to…?”

“What? Oh, no. I’m way too high,” Steve whispers, turning his face into Eddie’s shoulder. “Another time?”

Eddie laughs because he has no idea how his life became this. 

“Sure,” Eddie agrees. “Another time.”

Steve sits up, presses a loud, smacking kiss to Eddie’s temple, and then drops his head back down. He turns his face in toward Eddie’s neck, arm finding its place around Eddie’s waist. Eddie can’t see his face, but he thinks Steve’s pleased smile might just match his own. 

Read More on AO3

[tea-and-secrets]

something ive noticed in my transition - women just do not treat me the same. its weird /: it felt like one day i was the butch everyone hid behind & felt safe with, and the next i was scaring ladies by just like existing

idk it just hits me really fuckin hard every now and again yk? like tn for example. i work at a restaurant, we close at 11pm, i typically take the last bus of the night home. tonight there was this woman (20s? 30s?), real pretty, real white, and obvs new to town. anyway, she got on at the same stop i did, and she got off at the same one i did (i live in company housing, and most all of us have 2nd jobs so its quite routine to see another [redacted] employee on the city bus to/from work #2). now its a mile long walk right on the edge of the creepy ass woods, in the pitch black, to the company apt complex. and i was walking behind her the whole way 😐 she got so freaked out y'all! mace open n ready, keys in the fingers, pretending to be on the phone, etc. and im jus over here takin my sweet ass time walkin so i can star gaze. i felt bad for her feeling scared, so idk i just made noise and turned my flashlight on and tried to let her get as far ahead of me as possible. mostly cuz i was Not about to have her call the fuckin c*ps on me, an entire ass queer brown man, for daring to walk home in the dark behind her. BITCH WE GOT BEARS OUT HERE like if ur so "scared" of me wtf u gon do when u come face to face wit them? die??

sorry that was all over the place im just. so tired!!!! of cis women & white people being "scared" of me because of who i am and what i look like (ive been told i look like an ndn chulo 🤔 sorta danny trejo mixed wit rez kid, but fagged up real good). i miss the "innate" kinship, the "i do not know you but that person is being creepy af so ig we've been besties since grade school" or "hi, ik im walking so close behind u but its cuz ur bleeding. heres a tampon hun" or "were bonding over having a very similar experience within this society" kinda thing yk?

of course, i still have that with [most] other queers it just, hurts ig. to have my "role" flipped so suddenly. i *like* being someone ppl flock to for safety. i *enjoy* protecting others and providing comfort. i *want* randoms to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for help if they need it. idk 😐 hard bein 🫳🏽 and a 2Spirit fagdyke

.

[cnjosephs]

POLARIS TRANS*

A poem for Pride. Continued under the read more.

As I grew from a little girl to a teenage boy, They said I should call myself trans*, with a star at the end: A star for something unfinished; a star for possibility.

As I grew from a teenage boy to a femme young adult, They said I should call myself trans, with no star at the end: That the star’s sharp points only served to cut and divide.

As I grew from a femme to a gloriously butch dykefag, I thought again about the star of my youth And about all the things it can stand for:

Trans* is for transgender— It’s for language that grows and shifts Like a living being; like a tree; like a child; For Sylvia’s Transgender Action Revolutionaries And for the kids at their high school GSA Walking into the club with their hearts in their hands.

Trans* is for transgressive— It’s for shattering expectations Shattering societies, boundaries, and binaries Like panes of fractured glass; The glass was breaking already, you know, But now we can turn it into a mosaic.

Trans* is for transsexual— It’s for those who pick up an old word That they’ve been told is “outdated” And brush the scorn off of it Like dust off of fine China To display it with pride on the shelf.

Trans* is for transformation— It’s for the little girls who became men, For the little boys who became women, For everyone who became everything, For everyone who became nothing, For everyone who became.

Trans* is for transvestite— It’s for shedding the skin you were forced into Like a snake shedding too-tight scales And growing something that fits you better; Making something new and beautiful, Wearing something beautiful and yours.

Trans* is for transitory— It’s for those of us whose gender shifts Like the phases of the moon; For people who fall asleep a femme fag And wake up a butch dyke And repeat the process again in a week.

Trans* is for tranny— It’s for picking up the stick they beat you with And sharpening it to a spear; Holding it up to defend yourself, To defend your kin, and saying: “You really wanna mess with us?”

Trans* is for those who reject the New Queer Binary— Who answer “Are you transfem or transmasc?” With an annoyed “Neither, actually”; Whose gender is not silence, but absence of noise; For men who are also women, For lesbians who are also gay men; For people so outside the binary That “nonbinary” feels like a chain around their throat; Maybe you can’t be cis and trans But I know you can be cis and trans*, And I know that you can’t draw a line between genders Like the respectable queers pretend you can.

Trans* is for all of us— For boydykes and girlfags, For queens and kings and crossdressers, For masculine women and feminine men, For my oft-excluded intersex darlings; For FTMs who wear suits and MTFs who wear gowns, For MTFs who wear suits and FTMs who wear gowns; For those on hormones and those who eschew them, For those who change their name and those who don’t; For those who want surgery to get a penis or a vagina, And those who want surgery to get both, And those who want surgery to have nothing.

Trans* is for everyone who marked the path we walk on now— It’s for Lili and Dr. Barry, For Roberta and Christine, For Marsha and Sylvia, For Stormé and Miss Major, For Leslie and Lou; And for so many others whose names we do not know Because they were blessed with the safety of privacy Or cursed with the violence of erasure.

If you asked me to name trans-with-a-star I’d tell you to call them Polaris Trans* The gender-variant community’s guiding light.

Trans* tells us where to go— To follow the paths cut by our predecessors, While keeping their drive to explore untrodden ground. To offer our hands for each other: Both to raise each other up when we fall And to fight when we’re under attack.

Trans* tells us who we are— We are faggots and dykes and sissies and queens, We are a bunch of rowdy queers who won’t shut up; We are armed with bottles and glasses, With bats and pens, with guns and paint; We are the people who have only survived Because when nobody would take care of us, When respectable queers treated us like a stain on their flag, We took care of each other.

Trans* tells us who to be— It tells us that we must be so brave and so strong, And so scared and so soft. That we must save our anger for those who hurt us, And not turn it on each other. That we must hold each other accountable for harm, But understand we are all flawed humans, And that mistakes are not unforgivable. That we must not hurt our trans* siblings For daring to be trans* in a way we cannot understand, And that you don’t need to know exactly what stars are made of To love how they shine in the sky.

Historical Notes

The figures referred to in the thirteenth stanza are, in order: Lili Elbe, Dr. James Barry, Roberta Cowell, Christine Jorgensen, Marsha P. Johnson, Sylvia Rivera, Stormé DeLarverie, Miss Major Griffin-Gracy, Leslie Feinberg, and Lou Sullivan.

Sylvia Rivera is the same Sylvia mentioned in stanza four. In the 1970s, Sylvia and Marsha founded the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries together. They provided housing and care for homeless gay and trans* youth while working towards broader goals of achieving trans* liberation. Sylvia and Marsha kept their kids fed and housed through funds they raised via sex work. 

Sylvia would later say that the death of STAR came at the 1973 Christopher Street Liberation Day Parade, where trans* activists were told they couldn’t speak on stage. Sylvia and drag queen Lee Brewster physically fought their way to the stage and criticized the gay community for abandoning the trans* community after the trans* community had spent years fighting for rights for all of them. Lesbian activist Jean O’Leary verbally attacked them both, claiming that drag was “misogynistic” and “demeaning”, and that trans* people had no place in the gay rights movement. Receiving such a devastating rejection from people Sylvia had considered friends pushed her out of working in activism for many years. 

Marsha was tragically murdered in 1992 at the age of 47. Eight years later, in response to the murder of trans woman Amanda Milan, Sylvia resurrected STAR as the Street Transgender Action Revolutionaries. While Marsha and Sylvia were both integral to the initial work of STAR, I refer to it as “Sylvia’s” in the fourth stanza to make it clear I’m referring specifically to the later incarnation, which used “transgender” in their name. You can read more about Sylvia’s life in her essay “Queens in Exile, the Forgotten Ones”, written just before her fiftieth birthday in 2001. The closing paragraphs of the essay are, in my mind, both a profoundly valiant rallying cry and an agonizing indictment of our community’s failures:

Before I die, I will see our community given the respect we deserve. I'll be damned if I'm going to my grave without having the respect this community deserves. I want to go to wherever I go with that in my soul and peacefully say I've finally overcome. Editor's Note: Sylvia died on February 19, 2002, from complications of liver cancer. She was 50 years old. 

[momma-pixel]

I Must Speak But Don't Have The Words

[TW: Suicide] When: 1988 Where: Playground, Kindergarten Situation: Little Me strongly and firmly believes that if I antagonize the girls and make them chase me then when I get caught they'll turn me into a girl like them as punishment. Apparently boys will be boys.

When: 1989-1994 Where: My bed, every night / Home Situation #1: I prayed to god every night to let me wake up as a girl. Situation #2: Caught wearing my sister's panties a few times, said it was because I couldn't find my own underwear. Situation #3: Constantly asked to help with yard work, would prefer to help in the house. Told that's women's work, what are you a girl, stop being lazy.

When: 1993-1995 Where: Home / Hospital Situation: General moodiness and angst, aches and pains. Breasts and hips are forming. Why parents? You're fat (I wasn't). Get confused for a girl out in public, parents force me to cut my hair and go on a strict diet. Doctor says I only have one testicle but also wants to run chromosome and hormone tests. Parents balk at cost. Surgery to find a missing testicle. I prayed to god, for the last time, to have the doctors turn me into a girl. They find a testicle slightly smaller than a marble, it's atrophied.

When: 1996 - 2000 Where: High School / Home Situation #1: Fell in with the punk and goth crowd. Had friends. Learned about the world at large thanks to them (and this new thing called the internet!). Discovered I was Bisexual. Learned the term 'transsexual'. Boom, head blown. Female bestie opens her arms, heart, and closet doors to me. Wearing black lipstick, black nail polish, eyeliner. Parents hate me. Wanted my ears pierced, dad said it was for girls and fags. In an argument about something dumb my mom calls me a cocksucker - I quipped that at least I was getting dick, flipped my hair, and walked away...we didn't speak to each other for a month. Situation #2: Attempted suicide twice. Both attempts failed right before they would have succeeded thanks to some spectacular reverse-final destination shit. Parents blamed my friends, my books, and anything else they could. Boyfriend jokes it's because god is scared of me after ignoring my prayers for so long and needs time to come up with an alibi.

When: 2001 - 2005 Where: Therapist's Office Situation #1: Asperger Syndrome (to be changed much later to Autism), Depression, Transsexualism. Do this thing called a Real Life test. Standards too rigid, too high, failed test. Situation #2: Final suicide attempt. Lots of counseling, meds, and restrictions.

When: 2010 - Present Where: New State of Being/Mind/Residence Situation: Grabbed life by the gooch and made it my bitch. Found new therapist, learned about myself more, began fixing myself, started a proper transition.

I never knew the words needed to express my mental anguish and emotional turmoil. They were concepts in my mind colored with prismatic abstract thoughts. My world was a tiny box with the only things allowed in governed by my parents. I wanted so badly to say to someone, anyone, that I was in pain and needed help but didn't know how. Even today I still have trouble putting words to thoughts - as an example, this post alone has already taken an hour to write.

For any of you out there struggling to talk about your changes, your transitions, your mental state of you, take this advice - there are words out there for you! Take your time to craft them as purposely and gently as possible. Some people will kick up at them and try to break them, but they are your words and you made them. They can't be broken, they can't be sullied or tainted. Those words were crafted by hand with love (for yourself) and perseverance (for a better tomorrow) by the best craftsmen in the world: You.

[drdemonprince]

I wanted to say, about the "transandrophobia" thing and specifically about that particular experience of getting less emotional support or even affection when transmascs transition, that while it's a very real problem, there are ways out that I never hear transmascs -but especially a particular brand of straight trans guy obsessed with passing- commenting. Like, you CAN build circles where men get emotional support and affection to the same level as anyone else. It's not a flawless strategy, you'll probably get some people weirded out that you'll have to decide whether to keep being close to, and you might very well get called a fag or a misogynistic insult, but you DON'T have to be isolated, you can build different types of relationships, which should be what being queer is all about anyway. Yeah strangers are gonna treat you differently, possibly more coldly, when you transition, but I see so many trans guys despair at how this is now the state of all their relationships and it's weird men don't acknowledge that all it takes for a good number of people to be warm and affectionate to you is to just be warm and affectionate to them first.

Yep, "transmisandry" bros don't want to make themselves vulnerable by asking for emotional support and affection, they don't want to put the work into building communities with other men to work on this shit, they don't want to provide the emotional warmth that they crave -- they want to complain that women aren't giving it to them and that people are sometimes wary of them when they are walking down the street because they now have visible social power. In these respects and many more they are exactllly like cis men's rights activists of yore.

Also. It's interesting isn't it that lots of transmisandry bros go on and on about how they cannot possibly have any male privilege, because they do not "pass"... but then also say that people treat them coldly and are suspicious of their presence in queer women's spaces and they feel like there's nowhere they belong. "Passing" is a regressive, self-defeating goal in the first place, so it's telling just how bitter many of them are that they don't meet that ridiculous standard 100% of the time, but also you can't claim that you're not being read as male at all while also complaining about people... treating you like they would a guy.

(in actuality, male privilege/being perceived as male is a lot more complex and amorphous than just magically passing as a cis dude one day. Passing is contextual, but trans men are often afforded a lot of social benefits even when they don't pass, especially within queer and feminist circles. more on this in my essay next week).

[froggywritesstuff]

i wish you were a girl | teddy lobo

ship/pairing: Teddy Lobo x male!reader

fandom: renfield

warnings: swearing, internalised homophobia, mentions of reader having sex, homophobic slurs, mentions of fisting, mentions of blowjobs, asshole behaviour, mentions of decapitating, mentions of suffocating/strangling, unsatisfying ending, mentions of vomiting, cringe, extremely out of character, barely proofread

word count: 1101

A/N: for any fem readers seeing this, this is a mlm oriented one shot. this has been in my drafts for too long and i hate looking at it

"I wish you were a girl. I wish you were a fucking girl."

The words hit you like a cinder block. This isn't new information, he's implied it on multiple occasions. But hearing the confirmation, hearing the words come out of Teddy's mouth invokes a pain you've never felt before. You don't even know what to think. You're pissed at first, summoning your best poker face as rage bubbles in your chest. You wish he wasn't a whore who couldn't go one day without fucking some girl he met two seconds ago. You wish he would go to therapy once in a blue moon instead of using you as his personal punching bag. You wish he didn't have you suck his dick or fist his ass till his eyes roll back while he calls you a fag and whines about how he feels so disgusted with himself for finding you attractive. But you don't throw that in his face, do you?

Your rage fizzles down as he stares at you, a rare, vulnerable look in his eyes. When you're not angry, you're left with the dreadful feeling his words give you. You despise yourself for it but for some reason you want him to love you. You crave any crumbs of his attention, whether it's good or bad. You wanna be everything he wants. Which you now know, is not you as you are. You wish you were a girl too now. To some extent at least. You've had the displeasure of seeing how he treats the women he fucks. Or rather the lack of treatment. You've heard him say countless times how he ghosts whatever poor woman he was with as soon as he gets soft, as if it's some kind of brag. At least he's talking to you. Would he treat you any better if you were a girl? He's kept you around for longer than he's been in a relationship (if you can even call it that) with a woman, so you had to be doing something right. But Teddy Lobo is the most unpredictable person you know. Some of the things he does and says makes you want to decapitate him, carve out his brain and study it. Or shrink him down to the size of a mouse and send him in a maze and study his every movement. Or grab him by the shoulders and shake him to see if he bubbles up like a bottle of soft drink. Would doing any of these things give you any of the answers you want? Who's to say? What you do know is that it's been too many seconds since Teddy spoke, and the silence might be indicating that he wants a response.

How the fuck are you meant to respond to that? You know you want to respond by suffocating him with a pillow and leaving, but that may not be the correct response. Is there even a correct response to this? Probably not. But the last thing you wanna do is sit in silence until Teddy gets bored and asks you to shove your tongue down his throat while you stroke his cock. Or something.

"I know." you look down. The last thing you wanted to do was look at him. 

"Yeah?" he says softly. In his defence, how was he meant to respond to that?

"I-" you go to stop yourself from speaking, your mind racing with different possibilities of his reactions. Once again, Teddy's unpredictability was not working in your favour. With a quick decision, you decide you don't care how he'll react. If he was gonna put you in an uncomfortable position, why couldn't you do the same? "I wish that didn't bother me so much... I wish I wasn't so hung up on what you thought of me." As soon as the words leave your mouth you want to throw up. You think of all the different ways he might respond. Look at you weirdly, disgusted by the sudden vulnerability. Call you a fag. Degrade you in some way. Or just completely ignore it and ask you to fuck him. You definitely don't expect his response.

"You care what I think of you?" he asks, not in a bashful, 'Jason the popular sports guy who all the girls want likes that I read books/skateboard/partake in a slightly niche hobby and don't wear makeup' way, but genuinely surprised. And a little confused. As far as he was concerned, he was just an afterthought in your life, and you just stuck around either for the sex, for protection, or out of fear of him and his family. He'll admit that it makes him feel powerful that he could have such an effect on someone. Especially you.

"Yes." You want to strangle him. Here you are carefully analysing your thoughts and he's blissfully unaware of your feelings. It's not like you shout every thought you have at him but you figured he had to have a fraction of a clue that he was making you feel this way. "Fuck you for that by the way."

"What do you mean- why?" you almost forget that he’s part of one of the most powerful crime families when you hear how desperate his voice sounds. 

"Why? You've ruined my life."

"No, why do you care about me?"

"I never said that.”

”But you do.” he says, way too confidently and you’re almost embarrassed that he’s right, “Why?”

“Because sometimes, some people grow attached to people they constantly have sex with."

"Yeah but I'm a fucking asshole to you."

"Yeah that's not news. But I don't have an explanation for why I feel anything for you."

Teddy doesn't say anything. It's unusual, him being so quiet. You can tell he's thinking when you look at him, like he's actually thinking before speaking for once. That too is unusual. And right now you have no desire to find out what he's thinking of saying. You clear your throat and begin making your way to the door.

"Are we done here? Cause I... I think I'm gonna go..."

His mouth falls open, and there's a moment of silence before he mutters a nonchalant 'uh-huh'. You nod, and push open the door, about to leave when he stops you.

"Wait." you look at him. He's trying so hard to look like he doesn't care. Like he's not affected by what you've said. He meets your eyes, before immediately looking away, "Um, never mind... I-I'll see you around."

You nod hesitantly, mumbling a goodbye as you shut the door behind you.

[gandalfsbignaturals]

"Bi lesbians" can't ask for community while using a label that is harmful to lesbians, bisexual women and trans women, are you kidding me? "Your label created by terfs to refer to lesbians who have dated trans women is valid uwu" come the fuck on

where did you hear that? cuz most of the "bi lesbians" i know are trans women. so if thats an actual fact, and not something someone made up to incite infighting, can you show me who coined it? was it in a paper, or an op-ed, or something? a source would be really nice, because thats a pretty hefty accusation to be slinging around over a word.

another thing... you said it "harms lesbians, bisexual, and trans women" but again, all the people i know who use this label are themselves trans women who have sex with women... are they somehow less bi and/or lesbian than the other people they are supposedly harming?

what is this harm, by the way? you stated that using the term harms people, but i fail to see how someone calling themselves something mildly contradictory is somehow oppressing other gay people. what about dykey fags, or faggy dykes, known archetypes of people who exist in lgbtq spaces... hell, what about genderfluid people? if someone considers themself both a man and a woman but is only attracted to women, i think that person would have every right to call themself a bi lesbian.

basically, youre throwing around a lot of accusations over a fairly pedestrian label being used by people because they feel it accurately descrobes their experience. again, id like to see your sources. if you cant provide any... well, ill happily introduce you to some of my bi lesbian friends. and while im at it, you can meet the boydykes and girlfags and genderfluid people in my life, all of whom have been nothing but good to me. the real question is if theyd want to meet you?

[doublestarsystems]

next time someone cis asks me about my identity (in a kind or not kind way) I’m not gonna hold back and I’m just gonna say yes, I’m a trans-fag, transsexual, non-binary boy-fag that wants to kiss boys and woo women. I desire nothing more than to be a middle-aged man wearing short shorts and kissing my husband. One day you’re gonna look at me, and where you once saw a lesbian, you will see the most Twinkiest Twink on planet earth.. nay- in the universe. The tattoos on my top surgery scars will be sigils that speak of my survival. Sometimes I’ll wear dress pants, a shirt and tie. Other days, I will wear things so insane you will just KNOW I’m a wizard. The cis-hets and cis-fags will watch me age into an old transsexual, and I will laugh in their face when they tell me that my bones will be dug up, and everyone will think I was a woman. Do you think that in death I will care what names they call me? I will be hurtling towards a heat death with the universe, I will be indistinguishable from every bit of matter in this place. My gender in death will be fucking radiation. My gender in life will not have been meaningless, no, it will simply be a loving memory. so much more interesting than saying I’m transgender and gay