#but i have noticed this with a few trans people when they are openly/currently transitioning

[uncanny-tranny]

Also, in response to the "testosterone making people angrier" myth, I've found that, personally, testosterone has given me the self-respect to recognize and call out when my boundaries are being overstepped in ways that I wouldn't have had the courage (or, frankly even liking of myself) to have done before. This is in addition to me working on my trauma responses, but testosterone was the spark that gave me the will to do this in the first place. When I see people sae that as anger and thus is a "bad thing," I wonder how much of that is just people being uncomfortable with us... having boundaries or enforcing them, and that the response to that overstepping is labeled as aggressive anger.

Frankly, I now actually respect myself enough to care when I am being mistreated. It seems that people sometimes take that as a personal failure on my end because I don't think I deserve mistreatment.

Caveat: Anger is a fine emotion, and it is a worthy thing to recognize and honour. I find that the accusation of trans men* and trans masc* people "being angry" on testosterone is a moot point simply because it is often a false accusation which uses anger as a punishment. My issue isn't that we're "angry," but that our perceived anger is used, often, as a transphobic bludgeon to punish those who either want to transition with testosterone or who currently are, and everything in-between.

[fipindustries]

my experiences with transphobia.

this will probably make me look a bit unlikeable because its going to ammount to "not that many tbh i was insanely priviledged", i am very well aware of the struggle that my community goes through every day all over the world, specially in the last few years where republicans and terfs and conservatives in general have seemed to drive themselves into mouth foaming frenzy out of disgust, and where intra community fighting seems to get more bitter every day.

but i do want to share my experience all the same and hopefully this will help give some hope in the current bleak state of affairs that not everything about being trans is constant suffering all the time.

winding back the clock all the way to me being a kid, i was very much bullied, from kindergarden to high school. my experience in the education system was twelve solid years of being called names, being pushed around, being ostracised, being made fun of and being excluded. i had people trick me into accepting food the offered and then telling me they had spit on it before (my response to that was to keep eating it all the same and made sure to enjoy it in front of them). ive had people beat the shit out of me, and i had people point at me on the hallways and laugh every time i would walk across them.

none of this was over any gender stuff, mind you, but because i was just "the weird kid" i was very openly nerdy and neurodivergent, i had been raised by cartoon shows and i would insist on behaving as a cartoon character irl. also because i was not very social, i was awkward and because i tended to keep to myself.

besides that i lived in a small town with no nerdy scene at all, my family (especially on my dad's side) just plain didnt get me. noone seemed to share or understand my hobbies and my dad would constantly critcize me for the way i behaved, the way i dressed, the way i talked, etc.

out of all this my response was to say "no, its the children who are wrong". i resolved from a very young age to just be myself and if that made me an outsider and a weirdo and an outcast then whatever. if some came to make fun of me or criticise me for just being me then they were in the wrong and their opinion was automatically discarded. i was not going to compromise myself for the sake of others. i never really developed a sense of shame over being who i was.

this of course was in part a bit of a trauma response which ended up with me having the maladaptive trait of being too self centered and too inconsiderate of other people's needs, i had a really bad tendency to see any criticism, no matter how valid, as an attack to be ignored, to this day i still have trouble measuring myself and noticing when im hurting others, i still have a hard time prioritizing other people's needs over my own.

but, tragicomically enough, this attitude proved to be actually rather useful for when i transitioned. i am more or less impervious to weird comments or outsiders eyes. as soon as i came out of the closet i was going out in full drag like, literally three days after. i was walking outside, going to the corner store, doing groceries, running errands and stuff ouside in the street with fake boobs and my face caked in make up i still didnt fully know how to properly apply. i had a bunch of kids yell faggot at me and my only thought was that those little shits should get taught some manners.

it also helped me brush off really unpleasant comments from a close friend with regards to my transition, like her saying she was sure i was going to end up detransitioning or that everyone thought i looked like a fake caricature of a woman. my first reaction to those comments was "she is just saying that to hurt me, opinion automatically discarded". it helped me stand uo to my dad who outright refused to call me by my pronouns or treat me like a girl so i just immediatly stopped talking to him or visisting him until he changed his mind. it took a year but he eventually did and now things are great between us.

but that is only half of the story. im telling you all this because it sounds cool and because im genuenly proud of it but the truth is also that, i just didnt have to put up with a lot of hardship in my life in general, i grew up in a nice house with a loving caring mo and step dad, i went to college, i lived a lower middle class lifestyle generally. once i got out of high school i managed to get some actual friends. and i live in a more or less stable country.

all of my friends and immediate family were instantly cool about my transition. my uncles, my grandma, my cousins, my mom, my sister, my step dad. i was immediatly accepted with an "ok, cool, you are mandy now". all of my friends immediatly accepted me with open arms as well. if there were ever any weird social games about "being excluded from girl spaces" or people treating me different or whatever im probably too socially oblivious to notice them.

on top of that i live in a genuenly very trans friendly country, in a seemingly trans friendly city. so generally goberment institutions, health care institutions, private bussineses, the companies i worked for, they all went out of their way to use my prefered pronouns and name, even before i changed my documentation to reflect this.

i dont think i ever was scared to come out of my house or walk down the streets of my city, even at night. and let me tell you, there are times where the sun hits the wrong way or i forgot to shave or all my clothes were dirty and i had to essentially boy mode, and none of that deterred me from going outside and doing my bussines without even sparing a second thought to what strangers on the street might think. other people on the street are just non-entities for me, they might as well be painted on the walls, i just cannot bring my self to care about what they might think.

i keep thinking back to that scc article about people living in different circles that seem to either automatically insulate them from or automatically draw them to abuse from others.

people are generally nice and normal and reasonable around me and i dont know if this is because i have an "anti-transphobia" field or i am just incredibly innatentive, where its happening all the time and i just dont notice it, but it has certainly made my life easier.

[nothorses]

I don't know if I'm looking for advice or merely comfort but I didn't really know who else to come to with this.

I am becoming increasingly desperate to get on testosterone. With every passing day I think more and more about the changes T would bring and how happy they would make me. I was going to wait until my grandma passed because I know it will cause problems with my extended family, but I just. I really want to be on T and I'm hoping that if I hide the effects for long enough it won't be a problem.

But what will be a problem is that once the T starts giving me body hair and lowering my voice and changing my body shape, I'm going to be very visibly trans. I don't bind and I don't intend on using the men's restroom and I live in a very small town full of conservative people who know where I live. People with guns. What's worse is my boyfriend's grandparents are openly transphobic. They will notice. I don't know what their reaction would be but I can't imagine it will be good. Me and my boyfriend live with his dad and I worry that transitioning will get us kicked out. His dad has never really expressed an opinion on trans people but considering his political leaning I'm assuming it's not good. And even if his dad doesn't care I worry that a strained relationship with my boyfriend's grandparents will still cause issues.

I have so few supportive people offline. My mom still misgenders and deadnames me. My friends put in the bare minimum amount of effort to use my correct pronouns. My brother is the same way. The only one who actually treats me with any respect is my boyfriend and I'm scared that it's not enough. I don't know what will happen to me once I become a visibly trans person and that really scares me. But god I need to get on T.

I guess maybe I'm hoping you or some of your followers will have advice on how to protect myself. Transphobic violence will be a very real threat for me that I don't think I'm prepared to handle. And with everything going right now it's just. It's a lot to deal with alone.

Anyway. I hope you're doing alright.

I can't give you a lot of advice aside from, like... this is always going to be a decision between what external dangers and changes your internal happiness is worth, and what is a reasonable amount of time to wait. Ultimately, things will change no matter what you do, and sometimes the right choice is to try to seek out the change that makes you happier if nothing else. When and how you do that, though, is entirely up to you.

RE: Safety... stealth is always an option if you think that would work for you, but if course it doesn't do anything for anyone you currently know. It sounds like there are some things you can't do anyway, though, so maybe that's not something that makes sense for you right now.

Low dose T might be another option, just so you have some forward motion while you continue to sort out your situation in the meantime. Changes take a much longer time to take effect, and you'll probably see some things happen that other folks won't notice for a very long time.

You can also stay closeted for a pretty long time even while transitioning; Abigail Thorn definitely proved that, even if her transition was very different. Some folks will notice things are changing, but for the most part, cis people just don't see what they don't want to see.

I'll let folks add to this post, too. I don't have much personal experience with this sort of thing.

I'm sorry you're going through this, though. You deserve better. And I hope you can get what you need soon. 💙

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

The Fantastic Beasts Franchise and JK Rowling

Alright, so...hi everyone.

I don’t know how many people follow this blog anymore because my main blog of operation is now @alwaysahiccupandastrid - I still try to keep this blog relatively active though, just because it was my original blog, I’ve had it since I was 13, and I have so many memories attached to it.

I’m aware that a lot of the people who follow me, especially since late 2016, do so because a) I was a loud and proud Fantastic Beasts fan, b) I wrote some Newtina and Jakweenie fic, and c)...I don’t know. I literally don’t know why people bother following me anywhere because I don’t feel like I have a lot to say. But, anyway, many people probably follow me due to Fantastic Beasts and my posts/fanfics within the fandom.

Those who follow my active blog will already know my feelings and thoughts, but because of the fact many things about this blog - me, the posts for the last four-ish years, the url itself - are Beasts related, I felt it was necessary to come and write an actual post here instead of just reblogging things and calling it a day. I’ve always been very outspoken online, but I’ve been avoiding a certain topic of conversation on this blog for years now, and I’m finally in a place where we can discuss it.

I am, of course, talking about the hot topic that is JK Rowling.

Back in the days between FBAWTFT and FBTCOG, I was a very outspoken defender of JK Rowling and her decision to defend Johnny Depp’s inclusion in the films. Now, this is something I still stand by to this day, and due to the evidence that has since come out, I’m even more steadfast in the opinion that keeping Depp was a great decision. I am fully in support of him and the way he’s currently battling against his abuser. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about right now. As I was saying, back in the day, I was outspoken about the opinion that “we don’t know the full story” etc., and as a result I received very colourful anon messages. Now, to my knowledge, none of these were about JKR being a TERF/transphone, but I think it’s important to mention that at the time I scoffed at the idea she could be one. I openly admit that I didn’t listen to what other people - including actual trans individuals - were saying about JKR and her transphobia because I frankly didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to admit that the person who wrote something that saved my life could be so hateful and a bad person - that, and at the time I passed it all off as “wokeness out of control”.

It is now 2020. Up until last Saturday night, I was still in support of JK Rowling - I didn’t agree with some of the stuff she had said, but I was trying to be positive and have hope by telling myself that she didn’t mean to be transphobic, that she just didn’t know what she was doing was wrong, even though the evidence clearly showed otherwise (I.e. her liking transphobic / radfem tweets). I said to my followers on my Beasts page that instead of cancelling people outright, we should be attempting to educate them instead, and if they choose not to learn then fine. And, being 100% obvious, I didn’t want to admit it because I frankly already was feeling annoyed at two different Beasts cast members for different reasons: Ezra Miller (for choking a girl) and Dan Fogler (for his tweet about BLM - admittedly that was probably him being well intentioned but not saying it right). So yeah, I didn’t want to cancel another member of the Beasts “family”.

I had JKR’s tweets on notifications, and for the most part over the last few weeks, it was all about the Ickabog. However, on Saturday night I noticed that she had suddenly tweeted something completely different, and I looked at it. Given that I had adamantly defended her and said “freedom of speech” for so long, it’s telling that my first thought upon seeing her tweet was literally “for fuck sake, Jo, why”.

I won’t post her tweets here but to sum that first tweet up, it was her being annoyed over the term “people who menstruate” being used in an article instead of “woman”, and mockingly saying “there used to be a word for that” before pretending she didn’t know the word. She knew that tweeting it would start arguments and anger, and yet she still made the decision to do so. Her follow up tweets frankly dug the hole deeper; she tried to defend herself by saying, to sum it up, “I have a butch lesbian friend who agrees with me” “I just care about women’s rights!” And “IF trans people were marginalised I’d march with you!” (“If”, of course, being the real kicker here because what do you mean IF. They ARE. Every DAY.)

Since then, JKR has written an essay on her website defending herself and her opinions, and yes, I read it. I read it a few times, in fact. At first, I felt my anger simmer and felt I had been too hasty to make anti JKR jokes, that I was wrong...but then I read it again properly and realised that what she had written was a piece that turned herself into the victim, and that despite putting on the appearance of her saying she supports trans people, including the phrases “I support trans people” and “of course trans women are real women”, she still spewed much transphobic vitriol and hate. She cited no sources for any of her proclamations or statements about statistics, implied that trans men transition to escape their “womanhood”, that trans women are men in dresses, that trans women are dangerous to “real” women (aka cis women) and shouldn’t be allowed into women’s changing rooms or toilets. There was also the autism comment, and the implication of autistic girls somehow not being able to make decisions or whatever.

I’m going to get straight to the point: I don’t support JK Rowling or her radical feminism.

As someone who is a proud feminist (libfem?), I can honestly say that never have I felt threatened or like I was being silenced by the inclusion of trans women in feminist spaces or conversation. Never. In my second year at sixth form, I was in charge of the LGBTQ+ club until a new leader with better leadership skills could step in, and - put simply - that year, the club was made almost entirely of first year transgender students. Even though I had called myself a trans ally for years, I realised there was a lot I didn’t know, and I learnt quite a lot from these students. I continue to still learn today. They were some of the nicest and most intelligent people I got the chance to meet, and I can truly say that at no point was I ever worried to be in a room alone with a trans woman, nor was I concerned about which bathroom they went in - bathrooms are bathrooms. Speaking of bathrooms...when I was at uni during a particularly tense rehearsal a few weeks before our final show last year, a guy in our group made me cry and I ran to the women’s bathroom to escape. Not only did the other girls come to comfort me, but you know what? The guy came in and apologised profusely to me. Did any of us girls give a shit about having a guy in our toilet? Absolutely not. It’s a fucking toilet. And, on that note, I was never worried about a trans woman or even a cis man attacking me in the toilets. You know who DID attack me in the toilets regularly? Other cisgender women.

As a feminist, I fully support trans women and am not threatened by the inclusion of trans women in women’s spaces or in women’s rights discussions. While I agree that cis women and trans women inevitably go through different struggles, at the end of the day, we all identify as women and are women. I think that if your feminism is so threatened by the existence of trans women - TERFs, RadFems, JKR, looking at you - then your feminism is flimsy and not feminism at all.

As a woman, I find it highly offensive that JKR and many RadFems focus so much of womanhood and feminism on an involuntary biological function that, frankly, many of us would rather do without. Yeah, I’m talking about periods - no matter how proud I am to be a woman, I still fucking hate periods and would get rid of mine if I could without erasing my chance of having kids someday. I can hear the RadFems accusing me of “internalised woman hatred” for saying I hate my periods, but you know what, they suck and they hurt and fuck them. The fact that JKR (also the the radfem movement) reduced “women” to just people who menstruate and can have children, and vice versa, is incredibly offensive and misogynistic. For a start, trans men menstruate, intersex people can, non binary can etc. Next, not even ALL cis women have periods - women who are menopausal, young women who haven’t started puberty yet (some do start very late), some women don’t have regular cycles, some women have medical problems that affect their cycle, some women are on birth control that can stop their cycles. So the idea of women being defined as “those who menstruate” is offensive not only to trans/intersex/non binary individuals but also to cis ones too.

As I write this, I’m a 22 year old woman who is still learning and changing every day, and one of the things that I’ve found myself thinking about recently - especially since we’re in lockdown and we have nothing BUT time to think - is about myself and my identity as a woman. What prompted this was when I saw Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s beloved book, “Little Women”, which I’ve since read, for my birthday back in January, and I left the cinema feeling exalted and powerful with my own identity as a woman. (I’ll be returning to LW in a bit)

After some thinking, I’ve realised some things. For me, my identity as a woman is not just because once a month my uterus decides to shed; I do not identify as a woman just because I have certain physical features. I am not a particularly feminine person either, and I’m what some may call a “tomboy” (a phrase I actually don’t mind but I know a lot of people do for understandable reasons since it’s a phrase designed to differentiate people who don’t conform to society’s expectations etc) because I prefer video games and more geeky stuff to shopping or dressing up or make up.

For me, there is no one way a person has to be or appear in order to identify as a woman. Women are beautiful, complex human beings; we are not defined by our genitalia, by an involuntary biological process. Women are strong, intelligent, and interesting people - no two are the same. For example, some decide to raise families, some choose to pursue a career, some do both - all of these are valid and none are more “feminist” or “womanly” than the others, because it’s our as women. I guarantee that if you lined up every single woman in the world - cis AND trans - no two would be the exact same.

I mentioned “Little Women” earlier, and as I was pondering over what makes me identify as a “woman”, I thought a lot about a certain quote from the 2019 film that has stayed with me since it was first said in the release of the trailer. It’s spoken by Jo March to her mother, and I’ve started to understand what for me makes me a woman.

For me, being a woman is all of this: having minds, hearts, souls, ambition, talent, and being beautiful each in our own ways. Women are capable of love and empathy, capable of desire, capable of the most complex and human feelings and emotions, and coming out the stronger for it.

Sex is one thing; gender identity is another.

I won’t dissect every single thing JKR wrote in her essay, but I will just say this: her comments regarding autistic girls are extremely tone deaf and she does not speak for those with autism. I’m going to be honest and admit something here I haven’t before: I have not been diagnosed with autism or aspergers but I AM currently on the waiting list to see someone who COULD diagnose me. Apparently I show signs of a potential diagnosis, so...we’ll have to see. But I have friends who are autistic, and they’re disgusted by JKR trying to use them to support her TERF arguments. Autistic and other neurodivergent people are absolutely capable of making decisions and are NOT people who need to be babied or have their hands held, to be told who they are. It’s incredibly ableist of JK Rowling frankly.

I would also like to point out... I’ve seen people saying “but she doesn’t hate autistic people, Newt is autistic!!!” - yes, but JKR didn’t write him as autistic. Eddie Redmayne chose to play Newt as autistic - JK Rowling didn’t do shit.

It’s also time that I acknowledge that both Potter and Beasts inevitably hold JKR’s problematic views, and that by denying her ownership of her work, we’re not holding her accountable for the horrible things she’s done. This includes - but is not limited to -:

Anti-Semitic stereotypes in the goblins

Lycanthropy being used as a metaphor for AIDS - an illness that is heavily associated to the gay community, and also there was the panic of the AIDs crisis in the 90s where much misinformation and homophobia was generated and spread because of it.

Adding further to the lycanthropy point, one of the infected individuals - Greyback - is stated to have a sick preference for infecting children. Not only are werewolves tied to harmful gay/AIDs stereotypes, but also to the disgusting and frankly wrong notion that gay people are pedophiles.

The only Asian character is called Cho Chang. Cho Chang. That’s two steps away from outright just calling her “Ching Chong”. It’s not a name an actual Asian person would have.

The Goldstein sisters are probably distantly related to Anthony Goldstein, who JKR confirmed (on Twitter of course) is Jewish, meaning that Tina and Queenie are most likely Jewish too (and Goldstein is a Jewish surname). However, despite the fact that the first FBaWTFT is set DURING Hanukkah in 1926, there’s zero signs of them celebrating or observing it. Maybe that’s more on set design than anything else, but come on - if I, a fanfic writer, can do some research, JK/the crew of a major movie can too!

Adding on from that, gotta love how one of the JEWISH main characters then decides to join the Wizarding world equivalent of Hitler. I already had problems with Queenie’s characterisation in CoG, but that’s the icing on the cake.

POC/Black characters - in both series but since I’m a Beasts blog... Seraphina Picquery, a Black female president serving a term during a MAJOR wizarding world crisis, is severely reduced to have only 3 lines in CoG. Nagini’s only purpose is to be the only friend of Credence, a white man, before he joins Wizard Hitler and abandons her; she’s also an Asian character who we know one day permanently becomes a SNAKE, and who goes on to actually have a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside of her?? And some do see her as his slave, though you could argue that she’s actually the only being that he holds any love or respect for. Leta Lestrange is a half-black woman who is killed/literally sacrifices herself for TWO WHITE MEN, and who’s death was literally confirmed to have been added in last minute.

Also, the whole Lestrange storyline was fucking nasty: white Lestrange Sr imperius-ed a black woman (Yusuf Kama’s mother), raped her, and she then died in childbirth. I’m sorry, what the fuck??

In Harry Potter, Seamus is a terrible stereotype of an Irish person - he likes to blow things up. Look up the IRA and their bombings. Fucking Irish stereotype. As someone with Irish grandparents and who is proud of their Irish heritage, this really pisses me off.

Let’s not forget the whole Native American cultural appropriation. That truly speaks for itself.

So here is where I speak candidly to everyone who follows me and/or sees this post. While Beasts is no longer my No. 1 fandom these days, it and Potter still hold a huge piece of my heart. I have 5 wizarding world tattoos, so much merchandise, and I can safely say that being a fan of both series has shaped me as a person. Both of those series helped me get through the darkest days of my life, including bullying at school, my Nan passing away, and my mental health struggles.

This is why what’s happened has impacted me so much and broken my heart. For me, it feels like it’s tainted now because of Jo and her views. I know that we should separate the art from the artist, but when her views are so clearly woven into the very fabric of the Wizarding world, it’s a huge problem.

Here’s another part of the dilemma - I do not wish for the Beasts films to be cancelled. I’m well aware that the *cough* people who dislike me will say I’m trying to be negative, trying to boycott the series blah blah blah, but that’s truly the last thing I want. I still love the story, the characters, the soundtrack, and I want to know how it ends, if only for my own piece of mind. It’s also important to add that by boycotting Beasts, it’s also harming the hard working thousands of others who worked on the films: the cast, the crew, the extras, the musicians, etc., not to mention the fans who actually are invested in the series and have taken solace in it. It’s not fair for them to all suffer over the actions of one TERF.

This is one of my biggest worries, however: the Fantastic Beasts films do NOT have a good reputation as it is. The second film was boycotted by some due to Depp, and now there’s talk of people boycotting number 3 because of JK Rowling. Lots of people already talk hatred about it, and this will only fire that hatred up even more.

There’s also talk of Eddie Redmayne potentially being kicked from the franchise due to a “leak” that he doesn’t want to work with JKR anymore, but this could be sensationalist news reporting. But if it came down to it, I can honestly say that I would rather continue to have Eddie play Newt than keep JKR as a writer. Eddie has done more for Newt than even JKR has, and if he goes, then that will be the last straw for me within the fandom. That will be when I take a sharp exit out, sell my FB merch and have my tattoos covered.

To add, the Fantastic Beasts scripts are...not great. Or, at least, what we saw on-screen wasn’t. Maybe that’s David Yates being the literal worst (fuck you, Yates, you suck) and cutting all the parts with strong female characters, but I honestly don’t think that JKR can write screenplays well at all. I think she’s clearly better at writing books, and that’s fine - books obviously allow for more time to explore characters and story/plot arcs etc, and film scripts offer way less of those chances. I don’t think screenplays allow her to write what she needs to in order to tell the story she wants to, hence why CoG was kind of a hot mess. So maybe it’s just that she’s not suited for screenplays and should stick to books.

Honestly, I kind of just wish that WB would hire another person to finish writing the Fantastic Beasts movies - obviously they’d have to keep JKR on board to tell them the actual plot, but get someone who can actually write screenplays and not be problematic to write them.

By now I’ve gone on long enough that I’ve forgotten my original intent while writing this, so I’ll try to sum up and end now. In short, I am extremely disappointed in JK Rowling and do not support her or her views any longer.

I don’t know how any of you guys are feeling but I would be interested to hear other people’s thoughts, especially other Fantastic Beasts fans. I want to also add that, as always, my DMs and inbox are always open - if not here, then always at @alwaysahiccupandastrid where I’m more active nowadays.

Finally, you guys don’t need me - a white cis woman - to tell you this but you’re all valid and magical and fuck JK Rowling. Her characters would all be ashamed of her, and the characters we grew up with would not stand for the bigotry and vile hatred she spreads under the guise of ““protecting women””. Several of the amazing actors from Potter and Beasts have spoken out against her and her tweets: Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, Bonnie Wright, Katie Leung, Chris Rankin, Eddie Redmayne. Some have been...less inspiring (Tom Felton, Evanna Lynch, looking at you two 👀)

I’m sending love to everyone right now. I wish I could say something more useful but I’ve spoken enough - I’ve made my opinion clear. I love you all, please stay safe.

[persephonewing]

Choosing a New Name for a Truer Body: Introducing Persephone

After coming out as a Transgender Woman a few days ago, nothing has really felt the same. Or, in more positive terms, everything is feeling more real. I’m openly talking about being and feeling like a woman. How my gender dysphoria has confused and harmed me for the past twenty one years and all the many transitions (Socially, culturally, physically) that will and are currently happening to me. 

Upon this, just yesterday, me and one my best friends, Emma, were swimming at a nearby lake here at Eastern Washington University. We had been playing around with names. For a moment I was dead set on the name Camilla. It had a C in it, like my boy name so it felt familiar. It allowed me to feel comfortable, passable, and like a cis-woman. A simple name that no one would question, look at, or invalidate. In a way, the name Camilla itself made me feel like it would protect me from the cis, straight world but as all trans women come to know, I would never be accepted there. A fate Persephone came to understand too.

I expressed this to Emma on the trip. How I wanted to find a name. A name that really encompassed my story, my truth, and my unwavering love and comfortability in womanhood.

 Emma is an art history major and is just an overall intelligent girl. I asked her about names that would fit me in her realm of knowledge. Maybe some from the greek classics and/or greek myths. 

This is when she told me the story of Persephone, the greek goddess of spring and the underworld. I was in complete euphoria hearing the story and swaying on the surface of the buoyant, dirty water. I felt like a true women just then as Jalaja Bonheim’s writes on her website, 

“When women get together, they tell stories. This is how it has always been. Telling stories is our way of saying who we are, where we have come from and what we know. Women have always found sacredness in the midst of the ordinary, harvesting spiritual wisdom from the fields and forests of their everyday embodied experience.”

Emma went on to tell me the story and the raping of beautiful Persephone. I felt myself slowly being connected to this woman. To her entire experience. I felt myself slowly unpacking, relating, and bonding to this mythical figure.

Persephone is seen as a more vulnerable goddess. Where relationships are essential to her life, as they are to my own. Her whole life, a relationship has taken the lead. Most times over what she really wants and desires. She is known for putting the needs of others over her own, something I have struggled with my whole life. 

Her mother, the powerful goddess Demeter, is controlling and desperately wishes to be with her daughter at all times. Her rapist and husband Hades forces her for a third of the year to be imprisoned with him. She is even the goddess that welcomes the living and shows them the underworld and teaches them about life and death. Plus her constant affairs and dramas with the other gods all goes to prove that this woman takes the people and relationships in her life very seriously. 

This isn't to be confused with weakness, confusion, or stupidity as so many people try to say she is. She loves and she loves hard. She knows both love and loss profoundly. She knows the horror of powerful men deciding and controlling her every move. She knows what it means to transcend through death (her being brought to the underworld with hades) and to be born again as a more powerful, authentic, and understanding woman (when she becomes free again with her mother, picking flowers). She knows sisterhood, struggle, and lust. To me, Persephone is the definition of my womanhood. She embodies a lot of what womanhood looks like for myself and my life. 

The article “Greek Goddesses and the Wisdom of 7 Feminine Archetypes” by Ibtisaam writes about this group of vulnerable goddesses, saying 

“Vulnerable Goddesses (Hera, Demeter and Persephone)... Correspond to traditional roles of wife, mother, and daughter. They are the relationship-oriented goddess archetypes, whose identities and well-being depend on having a significant relationship. They express women’s needs for affiliation and bonding… each of them also evolved, and can provide women with an insight into the nature and pattern of their own reactions to loss, and the potential for growth through suffering.”

Focusing more about Peresphone the author writes 

“Persephone contains within her the dual archetype of the maiden (a young goddess, innocent and associated with fertility) and the Queen of the Underworld (“who reigns over the dead souls, guides the living who visit the underworld, and claims for herself what she wants”). To be the maiden has less to do with age than it does to do with “being the eternal girl who doesn’t commit herself to anything or anyone, because making a definite choice eliminates other possibilities”. While this allows for great adaptability, in order to truly grow, the Persephone woman must learn to make commitments and to live up to them. Failing this, she will forever be a victim of the will and power of others, becoming a long-sufferer or martyr. However, her descent into the underworld shows the possibility of pain forcing growth. As the Queen, Persephone symbolizes receptivity, intuition and empathy to the suffering of others. Thus, Persephone’s gifts include the cultivation of imagination and inspiration.”

As Emma contuined on with the stories I noticed many men started to take the form of Hades in my vision. My dad, my step-dad, my first love, my brother, and the male world at large. Hades had come to symbolize body dysmorphia and the privileged male world. 

Here is Persephone, me. A girl picking flowers, enjoying and comforted by her mother, resting in her beauty and strength. Thinking of nights with her sisters, of lust and love. A girl that wanted to see things, know things, teach things. A girl that wanted the comfortable, dramatic, and loving life as a wife and sister. Just a woman, end of sentence. 

Then a man comes. He corrupts, harms, and oppresses her. Steals her away from her mother and her sisters (stealing her away from her womanhood) and into a world of oppression, abuse, neglect, and pain. A world that some could see, as I do, as a males world. A world that I nor Persephone have been allowed to survive in. Hades kid-napes her, rapes her, holds her prisoner, and slowly tries to make her become what so many women fear to become: a shell of her former, womanly self. 

I felt a massive connection here, I knew what it was like to be taken from the world of women (as I was younger) and into the world of men (when I was older) and feeling completely  disgusted, unnerved, and wrong about it. 

But, Persephone is not weak. She’s smart. She was able to become free. Hades had fallen in love with her womanhood the moment he saw it and she knew that this was his biggest flaw. She had something that she could use. She decided to be his wife because even though he symbolized and represented the worst of manhood, she knew there would be freedom in having access to both worlds. In having relationships in both worlds. She does this even when others don't understand it. Even when people try to rob her of her femininity, she powers on as the undercover ruler of both worlds. 

I relate to this as a woman who consistently feels divided between these two spheres. 

My world of womanhood where I am truly myself, beautiful, and authentic. With other women who protect and respect and care for me. Who love me. Where I can flip my hair, cry, drink wine, and talk about struggle. And the other world, the underworld, where I am surviving, working, and grinding to change and mold into a body and life that is not mine. 

Persephone knows pain, hurt, loss, and grief. Her mission is to help every passenger, in both worlds, better understand themselves and the complexities of living life. This has always been my mission as well and hurt as been the greatest teacher to both of us.

Persephone symbolizes everything I have felt myself to be as a woman. Loving, forgiving, powerful. A woman who gets what she wants even when everyone thinks they have her in the bag. She knows growth and transformation. She is a woman that I have always felt myself to be. 

So now, with the thanks of Emma and research, I am changing my first name to be Persephone. A name that my younger self would've cherished. A deserving name for a deserving woman.

[toastedbuckwheat]

Inktober 2019 - day 16

Self portrait, because it was an important day. 

Had my first appointment with the gender doctor!!

It wouldn’t have happened (or certainly not so quickly) without your contributions and support. Thank you so much. You guys are a blessing and I never expected so much help! 

It means now I can finally do my *first transition update*

My hair was a bit more presentable than pictured above when I got to the touristy heart of London and sat in the (surprisingly posh, my mind of a poor art graduate was blown) waiting room to have my first consultation. If you wanna know which doctor did I go to or know more, please drop me a message; I just somehow don’t feel comfortable operating with names of respected medical professionals so openly on my fanart blog. I don’t think I need to describe how nervous I was - today had a potential to either be the best day of my life (in unlikely circumstances of getting hormones prescribed there and then) or at least a step towards a better life, finally.

It was both slightly difficult and very relieving, that meeting. Mostly her trying to get to know me, asking loads of general questions rather than doing a dry box ticking exercise that I expected in that situation. Taking her time.  I was surprised when she mentioned she had concerns about me reaching out to her for testosterone and not making the top surgery my first step, seeing that I identified as non-binary (the exact opposite of how the public gender clinic approaches the situation!) - and that she had not had good outcomes who took that route. I think it got clarified when I mentioned that a desire to have a surgery first was the original reason why I contacted the GIC (Gender Identity Clinic - the public one) two years ago, and while waiting to be seen by them (as I ranted before, it currently takes 2 years to get to a first assessment) I realised that there were other things that affect how I feel about myself on a daily basis- such as my voice, the fact that I do not pass if I wear anything remotely feminine etc - I basically decided that I did in fact need hormones, and it would be a long route to even get a smell of it through the strained National Health Services. It is worth mentioning that she is respectful of the non-binary identity and attempt not to make it more difficult (the GIC do, apparently?), however - how I understood it at least - she tried to exercise pushing me into binary for the sake of finding out whether hormones are what I really want, because of course taking it wouldn’t really leave me ‘in between’ and whether we want it or not, people do immediately categorise us as male or female. Her take was that being on testosterone, after certain point at least, would push me the other side, so she wanted to find out whether I would for instance be comfortable if people suddenly started calling me ‘he’. I of course exclaimed something along the lines of ‘hell yes??? i would be comfortable, please may I be a he???’, but I understand the concern. It wasn’t in a ‘you briefly mentioned you could describe your gender as enby, I will now deny you HRT’ way, not at all. It felt more profound and caring.

One thing that made me very nervous is the fact that she wanted me to change my name by deed poll. Now, I would have done it long time ago had I known it was legal for me to do! But I am not a British citizen yet, so changing my name and all British documents would result in a conflict with my Polish passport. Which I wish I could change, but as there’s no other way to have your sex reassigned in Poland but by taking your own parents to court (which in my case also requires a lawyer to represent my deceased father whom I never met)  over mistakenly assigning you the wrong sex at birth or however else should I formulate this bullshit of a law - I can’t do it just right now. Yes, you don’t just go there and tell them you’re trans - you sue your own parents, despite being a grown up - and technically parents could make it difficult fot you. I don’t think I’m strong enough or have enough money to fly back and forth to a hostile country that treated me so badly just to follow this process. But if I do change my name in the UK now, this will have to be done asap. And the doctor, who said she’s advised that to multiple foreigners living here - says it will actually be required by the GIC as an important milestone in living in a desired gender role (screw that, I’ve been living in one for years, I just wanna be legal and use my passport, and Brexit is coming!!!)

Meanwhile, after 22 months of a wait about which I rambled multiple times, the GIC suddenly texted (!) me on Friday asking me to contact them asap cuz they might have a short notice appointment for me. I was at work til late, so I called them on Monday morning, just to discovered that the slot had been snatched. I was not particularly surprised by it. But then I got another call in the afternoon informing me that they had one more appointment available, but it was going to be this Thursday. That is, in a few hours from the moment I am writing it. I am shocked that I will finally be seen - surely no chance for hormones/surgery recommendation right now, and the next appointment won’t be in a year knowing how things work, but at least something!

So that’s it - congratulations if you’ve gotten to the end of it! I hope things progress soon; I am nervous AF but at least the ball is rolling now. 

I still do accept any donations from kind ppl who wish to buy me a virtual coffee - there’s a secret drawing of Aziraphale in the updates section that should be revealed upon making a contribution! Again, thanks to all of you who made things possible so I had something to write this long post about!!

and as always thanks to my dearest @mimimarilynart who is always here for me and somehow hasn’t died from listening to my rants yet. Thank you for being so supportive all the time <3

[nexstrik]

when i see you, my voice goes (1/6)

Summary: Evelynn and Ahri had been together for as long as anyone could remember. They always thought they never needed anyone else, and then then slowly learn how wrong they were.

A/N: Takes place from inception of the band to when POP/STAR blasts the charts, and a glimpse of what comes next. Ahri/Evelynn with eventual KDA-poly.

Rating: EXPLICIT. 

You can read this story in chronological order on my blog You can also read this story on AO3

She didn't often call Evelynn.

They spoke every day, of course. Through texts and emails and silly snapchats. Near constantly, during every spare minute, Ahri could look at her phone and see Evelynn's name. In between modeling gigs and meetings with her marketing team, trying to get her fragrance line off the ground, trying to stay sane. The dusky twilight hours when smog hung low over the city, or in the crisp early morning when one or both of them should have been in bed.

Long distance coupled with the burden of their profession might have killed any other relationship. Not them. Pride held them together as much as devotion. They ran together like a pair of mated wolves. Nothing and no one else was big enough to take either of them down, or replace them.

"Gumiho." Evelynn's smoky voice purred in greeting. "Not that I don't love hearing your voice, but what time is it over there?"

Every conversation these days started with that question. Fifteen years later and Evelynn was still trying to mother her. "The sun's been up for thirty minutes." Ahri looked out her hotel room window, twirling a strand of hair around one finger. "Is this a good time to talk? What time is it for you?"

"Six in the afternoon."

"Oh, so you just woke up."

"Bitch." Evelynn said it as fondly as any other pet name, completely devoid of any bite. "Did you need something or are you wasting my mobile data just to insult me?"

Biting her lip, Ahri tried to find the words. As with everything else, she had practiced for this. But with Evelynn, things never went according to plan. That's what made this so difficult. Even if she objectively knew Evelynn would drop everything for her at a moment's notice, there was no way to soften what she was about to ask.

She didn't often call Evelynn, but she knew this wasn't a conversation she wanted to have over text.

"Do you remember..." She started, then stopped. Pacing her hotel room, Ahri felt like a caged animal. Shaking her head, she tried again. "Are you working on anything right now? Wait, dumb question. Of course you are."

That's why she was in New York, currently, while Ahri stayed in Seoul. While her public-facing persona suffered a blow, her career as a lyricist was still thriving in the shadows. But Evelynn didn't go out much these days, not anymore. Not even in a strange city. Not after what happened.

"Some sweet little thing needed to consult me for her new single." Evelynn's laugh was muted, something low in her chest that never fully managed to claw its way free. "But once I'm done with her, I'm all yours."

"You're always mine," she said softly. "Don't ever forget that."

"Of course. Silly me. As an apology I'll take you somewhere really nice...Maybe I can meet up with you in Italy again?"

"That sounds good, but I need you here."

Tension coiled through her words. "I'm not sure I'd be welcome back home."

"Of course you will." Ahri rubbed her forehead, and then bullied herself back on track. "Listen. Do you remember when we were thirteen and I told you one day we'd be in a group together?"

"Mmm." Her wife agreed. "Of course, baby. That promise kept me going for a long time."

"Do you still want that?" Ahri swallowed. "Because I want to do it. I have almost everything set up, all I need is a word from you."

She swore she heard Evelynn blink.

"...Are you being serious right now?"

"Yes?"

Evelynn's silences often spoke more than words could. Over the years Ahri had learned to translate them all, so in tune with Evelynn's idiosyncrasies that she could read her thoughts from nothing but a careless inhale.

Right now Evelynn was waiting for Ahri's claws to come out. This probably felt like a trap. Ahri was offering her nothing except a fantasy, and the promise of more pain and public scrutiny.

"Take your time. I don't need an answer right away," she said, to reassure her.

"Your solo career is just starting." As always, Evelynn was most comfortable bouncing the focus away from herself. She operated best that way, just out of frame. "Wouldn't you rather work on that than try to lift a new group out of thin air?"

It was a reasonable point, and Ahri hadn't expected Evelynn to agree to this without some coaxing. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little slighted. "I want to work with you."

For years, they had been inseparable. They had the same trauma, the same wounds. Ahri had wrestled the demons off of Evelynn's back, kept her clean for almost a decade now. Meanwhile Evelynn wielded the first needles that kickstarted Ahri's transition, pierced her skin while Ahri closed her eyes and wondered if she might faint. They'd shared fame, money, scandal, women.

They shared everything, except for this. While always closely linked, their musical careers never fully overlapped.

One last bastion— one thing separate.

Ahri was asking for more than she'd ever asked from anyone else.

She was asking her wife to tear it all down.

"I want this for you, Evelynn," she said at last, when it became clear Evelynn was still mulling it over. "I know how much it's hurting you, not being able to do what you love. And no, writing songs for tween idols in America doesn't satisfy you, so don't bother trying to lie."

Ahri heard a click on the other end, imagined Evelynn's jaw snapping shut in anger, how the tendons in her neck would stand out like steel cables.

"You want to be in front of a camera again, and not covered in blood this time. You want to sing and you want to be on stage." Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Ahri stared at herself in the mirror. She looked hungry, or so she thought. She felt hungry most days, for something more than what her restricted diet forbade. "If you're with me, and maybe two or three other girls, we can be a buffer."

Evelynn just sounded darkly amused. "You think you can dazzle the media enough to make them forget? They'll turn their eyes aside and pretend it never happened?"

"I can make them do whatever the fuck I want," Ahri countered. "And they'll turn their heads any direction I tell them to."

All this for a childhood promise? Maybe, maybe. Mostly it was for her wife, because she knew exactly what she wanted and how to get there. All she needed was a little time, and support.

They'd never worked professionally together because there was always the risk that this could break them. But the risk was worth the reward. Evelynn was an uncompromising artist, and Ahri trusted her with her life. It was time to put that trust to the test.

If this worked, they could be gods.

"Okay," Evelynn said.

Ahri went still, eyebrows shooting up. Getting to her feet again, she stepped forward like she could be closer to Evelynn somehow, feeling her there in that room though they were an ocean apart. "Okay?"

Not that she was displeased, but she'd been expecting a bit more fight than this.

"You know I can't say no to you, gumiho. I'll need eight days. Be ready to record." There was a rustle on the other end of the line, the sound of Evelynn rapidly flipping through sheaves of paper. "I have to go now. If this is going to happen I need to make a lot of other phone calls. Goodbye. I love you."

The line went dead in her hand. Staring at it, Ahri could only let the quiet morning overwhelm her.

Then she started laughing.

  Three days later and Ahri was finally wrapping up the photoshoot for her new scent line. There was a relaxed air to the whole thing, something that felt almost like the last day of school. Placing a palm over her stomach, Ahri tried to share in some of that good mood, but she was too anxious.

"A quick break for lunch and then we'll start again, Foxy."

Perking up, Ahri gave her most dazzling smile to Kwag Sol-mi, the art director. She was a friendly butch woman, and Ahri found herself gravitating to her implicitly. It was just nice to have a kindred spirit in the crew. In different places, on different sets, others had often similarly gravitated to Ahri. Her status as one of Korea's few openly trans idols meant certain people felt free to be vulnerable with her.

It was a good feeling.

"Did you see where my water bottle went?" she wondered. While everyone else was eating lunch, she needed to make sure she didn't bloat up too much. "I just made some peppermint tea and now I can't find it."

Just one more shoot and I'll get something to eat, she promised herself, feeling Evelynn's looming, judging, protective presence even though her wife was nowhere near.

Sol-mi made a noise of thought. "Maybe in your dressing room?" 

"I could have sworn I hid it behind your chair." Pulling her big fake fox tail up to her chest, Ahri hugged it tight just in case the mass of floof was hindering her vision somehow. 

Then a cold metal edge smacked against the back of her head. Anger roused, Ahri flipped her hair over her shoulder before glaring back at whoever had touched her without permission.

It was her wife, with Ahri's aluminium water bottle held loosely in one hand.

"Evelynn!" All her irritation evaporated in an instant, her poisonous scowl shifting into a wide grin. Ahri threw herself at Evelynn, wrapping arms and legs around her with a shout. "What are you doing here?"

Stumbling back one step, Evelynn dropped the water bottle to hold her in place, both hands cupping her lower thighs. "Hey." 

"Is that all you have to say?!"

One hand moved up. Grabbing Ahri's tail by the base, she gripped it in her fist before running a palm over the fake fur. "This is cute."

Resting her hands on Evelynn's shoulders, Ahri squeezed her legs tighter around her waist. "You weren't supposed to see it for at least another six months, along with the rest of the world." Then she remembered the very restricted guest list. "Wait a minute, how did you get on set?"

Her wife responded by tilting her head lower, letting reflective shades slip down her nose a bit. She winked, slowly, and provided no other answer.

Suddenly aware that she had just climbed Evelynn like a tree in front of the art director and half the crew, Ahri glanced around her and frowned. Wiggling out of her wife's arms, she landed on the floor with a click of her heels. "Fine. Keep your secrets. I have a perfume ad to finish."

Evelynn had a huge leather tote bag with her. She pulled a binder out of it, all business as she flipped through laminated pages. "Are you almost wrapped up, then?" 

"The crew is on their lunch break right now," Sol-mi said, watching them with a raised brow.

"Good. I wanted to go over some new lyrics with you."

Every set of eyes in the room was already on them, but at those words it intensified. Ahri swore she saw the whole lighting crew lean in, whispering already. "Not here, Eve."

"It'll take just a second," Evelynn said. "Promise."

"Eve!" Glancing around her, Ahri grabbed her wife by the wrist and dragged her off set and towards the dressing rooms. She slammed the door shut behind them, feeling ready to puff up and hiss like a cat. "You told me eight days."

Unbothered, Evelynn just stood at the doorway, fighting a losing battle against her smile. She pulled her sunglasses free, hooking them on the v-neck of her dress. "I said be ready to record in eight days." She pushed the binder into Ahri's hands, before capturing her wrists so that she couldn't retreat. "Obviously I arrived sooner to see you."

A tendril of heat spread out from where Evelynn's nails scraped, right over her pulse. One simple truth that never changed— whenever Evelynn touched her, Ahri wanted to melt into a puddle. Struggling to maintain professionalism, she ignored it to flip through the binder instead, and wrinkled her nose at what she found.

It was all junk. Lyrics Evelynn had written for other bands, some of it ripped right from fansites.

"Is this a joke?"

"I needed to give you a convenient excuse to immediately drag me somewhere private."

 Ahri snapped the binder shut. "And of course I fell right into your trap."

She glared up at Evelynn only to buckle under the heat of that gaze. Evelynn's eyes were famous, a honey-brown so light they shone gold in the right angle. Those eyes netted her a heap of trouble, the whole reason she hadn't set foot on Korean soil in three years.

There'd been a long-standing feud between Evelynn and a persistent 'journalist'. He hounded her in every space she carved out for herself. Online, in person, over the mail. No one ever did anything, and no one took it seriously until he decided to escalate, and she gave him the photo of his career.

With just snapshot from his phone, he tried to ruin her. In it, Evelynn was standing over him with his camera crushed in one hand, her famous eyes wrathful and expectant and blank all at once, his blood pouring down her face. She'd headbutted him so hard she'd broken his nose, and the yellow street lights haloed her like a fallen angel.

Public opinion shattered in one of three ways. Either you felt the creep got what he deserved, you thought she was a violent psycho who deserved to burn, or you repeatedly and eagerly requested that she headbutt you next. 

It was the only scandal that gave Evelynn reason to pause. To assess herself, and wonder exactly who she was, and what kind of image she wanted to present to the world. As with everything, she refused to do this in half-measure. A self-imposed exile was so agonizingly on-brand for Evelynn, and Ahri hated every second of it. Even so, she'd never tried to change Evelynn's mind until now.

"So rude," Evelynn lamented. "I fly across the globe at your command and I'm greeted with accusations instead of kisses." 

"You don't want a kiss."

Her grin turned razor sharp, gold eyes widening. "...You're right."

Instinctively Ahri found herself backing up a step.

"No, no, gumiho." Evelynn slunk closer, hips swaying, hypnotizing. Every move calculated. Even when Ahri closed her eyes the temptation was there, Evelynn burned into them like the flash of camera lights. "Don't run away from me." 

Everyone else does, was left unspoken. Not you.

"I'm not."

But she was, more small steps backward until the edge of her vanity table hit the small of her back.

Warmth pooled over her hip, Evelynn's hand hot through the skin-tight fabric of her dress as she pulled her fake fox tail off. Evelynn kept a hard grip, like she wanted to sink inside her, grab her bones. "Then why do I feel like I'm hunting you down?"

Ahri stood up straighter, a little tremble running down her spine. It didn't escape Evelynn's notice; she tilted her head to the side and grinned.

In heels, they were almost matched. But Evelynn still seemed to tower over her, craning down from that great distance to nuzzle her face against Ahri's neck, inhaling deep. "It must be because every time I look at you I just want to eat you up." 

"You make it," Ahri said, and hated how breathless she sounded, "Very hard to stay on track when I'm supposed to be working."

"They won't miss you," Evelynn promised her, standing close enough that Ahri could feel the vibration of every word in her chest. "Not as badly as I did."

You're the one who left, she wanted to snap, but that was terribly unfair. Evelynn wanted to disappear for a while, in order to focus on where exactly her career would go next. It wasn't as though they never saw each other, it was just...

It was just no one understood her like Evelynn. Some days she felt like a doll, limbs ripped apart with the sockets and joints exposed. She was just pieces. Skin. Eyes. Hair. Lips. Tits. The space of flesh between the hem of her dress and the top of her stockings.

That's where Evelynn was stroking her right then, coaxing her thighs apart. Her palm slid up, cupping Ahri between her legs, and she couldn't bite back a whimper.

Evelynn made her whole. From scalp to toes, everything finally connected together. A woman's body, a human body. Not everything cut up and ready to be sold. Not a magazine cover or a perfume ad or a music video.

When Evelynn touched her she felt alive. It was the perfect high, fleeting and immaculate.

Two fingers pressed against her, the only two with blunt fake nails. Evelynn stroked over her lips, and the indirect pressure on her clit made her cry out. Evelynn kissed her open mouth to steal the breath right from her lungs, the untrimmed claws on her other hand hooking under Ahri's thigh to spread her legs wider.

Even as she molded Ahri together, Evelynn was pulling her apart again. She unzipped Ahri's dress only just to hike it up past her hips, the stitches popping. Her breasts spilled out of her bra, half-unclasped. Evelynn undressed her wife by piecemeal, leaving Ahri disheveled and panting.

Makeup products clattered behind her, dropping onto the floor as Evelynn draped herself over Ahri, tongue hot in her mouth.

"Touch me," Ahri pleaded in a whisper, holding Evelynn's head in both arms. She forced her down, twisting and whining at the feeling of Evelynn's mouth on her skin. She'd stopped petting her clit but Ahri could still feel an echo of the touch, torturing her until she ached. "God, please. It hurts."

That made Evelynn draw back to look at her, both hands braced on the vanity. It wasn't unusual for Evelynn to be cold as ice with her lovers. The distant persona was a part of the game as much as it was a genuine wall she put up, afraid of the vulnerability intimacy brought.

With Ahri, she melted. Those gold eyes reflected every stray thought, nothing left to hide behind anymore. She wanted Ahri desperately. She loved her. But loving someone always meant opening yourself up to be hurt.

And so there was always something terrified in Evelynn when she let loose— when she allowed herself to want— a small beaten thing that flinched at every raised voice.

"Show me where."

Dipping her fingers into Ahri's mouth, Evelynn ordered her to wet them.

Ahri nipped, teeth chastising, her tongue leaving them dripping. She savored the sensation of being filled before pulling them between her legs. Working Evelynn's fingers just under the fabric of her underwear, Ahri kept their eyes locked, lips scant inches apart. Relief hit her as crisp and clear as spring water, the shock of it making her gasp again.

"Good?" Evelynn wondered, warm and smug.

Nodding quickly, Ahri kissed her hard enough to smear her lipstick. Evelynn took care of her, teasing her entrance in lengthy strokes before focusing her clit until she squirmed. Arousal built, so fast and hard Ahri's legs started shaking. She begged without sound, without words, bucking against Evelynn's hand.

Not ready to see her break yet, Evelynn pulled free. Ahri's cry of dismay was quickly hushed by another kiss, and a growled command as Evelynn finished undressing her. Left in just heels and stockings, Ahri braced herself on the vanity as Evelynn sank down to both knees.

"Oh, you're so pretty," Evelynn whispered, thumb brushing over sandy blonde curls. She pushed Ahri's lips apart, kissing her exposed clit. Lapping at her with the flat of her tongue, Evelynn sighed in satisfaction.

It was still good, just different. Ahri had to start the climb from the beginning, though it was easier with Evelynn's mouth leaving her wet as sin. She suckled at Ahri's lips, the press of teeth not biting, but close enough to make Ahri twitch every time. She knew just how to reach the edge of pain, the perfect threshold to make it feel like it should hurt, which made the resulting pleasure all the stronger.

Shaking, she made fists with her hands to keep from grabbing Evelynn's head and grinding against her tongue until she came. She wanted to feel this for as long as she could, the perfect harmony that Evelynn's attention always gave her.

Evelynn kept her eyes closed, in focus and in rapture. Lost in bliss, she stroked her hands over Ahri's thighs, forcing her legs open wider. She only stopped to whisper filthy sweet nothings into the air, her low rasp promising so much more. Her lips and chin shone bright in the lamp light, a string of spit clinging to her when she pulled back to finally make eye contact with Ahri again.

"Don't hold back," she paused long enough to say, before planting another long, loving kiss to Ahri's swollen clit. "You know what I want to hear."

Sealing her lips around Ahri's clit, her eyes crinkled in amusement at how her wife shouted. They were both far past the point where they cared if anyone heard them, if indeed Evelynn ever cared at all.

All it took was a few firm, rough strokes. Just a twist of fingers teasing her entrance, and Ahri was gone. She shook, each cry swallowed back on a gasp. When the light cleared from behind her eyes she found she was curled up around Evelynn again, arms and legs, both hands fisted in her hair and her face bracketed by Ahri's thighs.

Evelynn patiently bore it until Ahri relaxed, bit by bit. When she was free she shook her head, grinning with a laugh that sounded almost reluctant. "You get so cute when you're trying not to scream." She wiped her lips clean, licking her fingers idly as she stood up.

Ahri wanted to respond, but she was jelly-limbed and limp, and all she wanted to do was curl up on Evelynn's lap and fall asleep.

Instead, she let Evelynn pull her up to her feet and kiss her again.

"I'm home," Evelynn murmured, stroking a palm over the back of Ahri's head.

Ahri held her closer.

Then Evelynn started circling Ahri, putting her back together again. Meticulous in her own way, she fixed Ahri's clothing and makeup and hair, brushing out the worst of the just-fucked gnarls in her blonde tresses.

"There," Evelynn said, stepping back and popping the cap back on her lipstick. She admired her handiwork with an appreciative head-to-toe sweep, the kind that left Ahri feeling distinctly underdressed. "Now you're perfect."

Ahri glanced at herself in the mirror to double check, though of course she trusted Evelynn to make her look her best. They'd spent their entire lives practicing makeup on each other. "You're a magician," she declared, giving Evelynn a light kiss on the cheek to avoid any lipstick stains.

"That's why you married me." Evelynn made no attempt to hide her smug smile. Instead she shifted to stand behind Ahri, guiding her towards the door with both hands on her shoulders. "Now get out there! You have a photoshoot to finish."

She ushered Ahri out with a pert slap on the ass, making her squeak and flinch out of range.

In the wake of all that, Ahri thought she might be lethargic. Instead she worked like a woman on fire, possessed with more energy than she knew what to do with. Evelynn joined them on set a little later, staying just on the edge of Ahri's vision at all times.

Every pose melted effortless onto the lens, the shoot wrapping up an hour earlier than anyone projected. And every time Ahri thought she might start to flag, she saw a pair of golden eyes burning into her from the sidelines, swimming with adoration that bordered on worship.

She took it, fed off it. The end results flickered across Sol-mi's laptop one by one as they went over the photos together.

"Mmm." Evelynn wrapped her long arms around Ahri's torso, chin resting on her shoulder. "These look great. They're dripping with charisma."

"Do we have to say dripping?" Sol-mi wondered out loud, mumbling as she shut the laptop. "We can't think of any other word?"

She was only a little grouchy because Evelynn had clearly broken onto the set just to fuck her wife. But at the same time, she couldn't argue with the finished product. So she instead slid a stack of paper into Evelynn's hands.

Evelynn's voice dropped ten degrees. "....What... is this?"

"An NDA," Sol-mi and Ahri said at the same time.

"A what?"

Ahri crossed her arms, jutting one hip out, her tone imperious. "If you want in on my private photoshoots, you need to follow the same rules as everyone else. So sign them, or else you will hear from my lawyers." 

"Seriously? I'm your wife!"

"Well, my lawyers could fix that, too."

"Gumiho!"

  Evelynn sulked the entire drive home.

"You're so mean to me," she lamented, slumping in her seat as much as she could while driving. "And I'm nothing except the most perfect and caring spouse."

"It's just smart business practice, baby." Pulling her legs up under her, Ahri undid her heels and toed them off. She sighed in relief, wiggling her feet once they were free before turning back to her wife. "Don't tell me you're still mad."

"I don't like contracts being thrust at me without warning."

Reaching over, she trailed her nail over the curve of Evelynn's ear, smiling when she twitched away. "Don't worry. You'll have plenty of time to go over the next one."

That piqued her interest. Evelynn tore her eyes from the road just for a moment, curiosity glinting gold-bright in her eyes.

"We start as soon as we get home. I have something to show you." She dropped her hand on Evelynn's lap, fingers tucking under the hem of her dress to touch warm flesh. Evelynn's hips shifted slightly, her body responding on instinct. "Right after I pay you back for that little stunt in my dressing room."

When Ahri touched her, she was already wet. A low exhale escaped her as Evelynn clutched the wheel tighter, eyes focused stalwartly ahead. The car engine hummed louder, Evelynn's tension translating to a lead foot. It seemed to surround them as if the noise came from Evelynn herself. A low rumble. Almost a purr, not quite a roar.

"Stop that," Evelynn muttered at last, between grit teeth, and Ahri withdrew. She sank back into her seat, dragging her tongue over the length of her fingers. "You're bad."

"If I don't get at you while you're distracted, you try to take over," Ahri complained, pulling her blonde hair over one shoulder so she could play with it. Idly she started working it into a braid, musing out loud. "I like being in charge sometimes, you know."

"Do I know. Sweetheart, the bedroom is the only place you aren't in charge."

Ahri's face scrunched up in a smirk, falsely sweet and childishly mean. So Evelynn reached over and flicked her nose.

"Ow!"

Past the guarded gate to their home, safe in the garage with the doors surrounding them, Evelynn clicked Ahri's seatbelt free and then bodily dragged the other woman onto her lap.

"Now, what did you want to show me?"

  The two of them had never worked together professionally before, so Ahri was a little nervous at first. But it quickly fell into place alongside every other aspect of their life. They understood each other intuitively, often better than they understood themselves. Chattering about their plans took up most of their mornings. As they wrapped up their other obligations, and as Evelynn slowly reintegrated back into Korean society, they discovered something important. 

They liked being coworkers.

Over breakfast, they went over more of their options. "I'm so glad we decided to do this." Ahri propped her elbows on the counter, wiggling on the bar stool. "What've you got for me today?"

Evelynn hummed in agreement. When she kissed her, she tasted like bitter black coffee. "Just listen."

Linking her phone to the wireless speakers in their kitchen, Evelynn searched through a few tracks before landing on the one she wanted. Pressing play, she savored her coffee with a pleased expression.

Ahri closed her eyes in concentration, frowning slightly. The melody was muted, but haunting. She wondered what exactly she was supposed to be listening for when the vocals started. The very first note stretched out like a violin chord, a low wail that vibrated through her entire body.

Buzzed, Ahri's eyes flew open to see Evelynn more smug than ever.

"Who is that?" she demanded, just a little breathless. She snatched up Evelynn's phone, reading that name out loud. "Kai'sa? How do we know her? How have I not heard her before now?"

"You might know her better from some of her choreography," Evelynn said. "That's where she's most comfortable. Musically she's resistant to being shackled down, so nobody's ever signed her on. She likes keeping it indie. But she's got a voice like—"

Ahri didn't let her finish. "Like an angel."

"Mmm. Usually. She can get brassy as an alto sax when she's in the mood."

Something about Evelynn's tight smile made Ahri do a double-take.

"Oh," Ahri said. "So we know her. Do you feel comfortable having a lover on the same team as your wife?"

"Ex-lover. If we excluded people I've slept with, we'd have nobody left in the business."

Ahri rolled her eyes. "Don't exaggerate."

Still, she could see why Evelynn had brought Kai'sa to her attention. The song itself wasn't to Ahri's taste; It was a little too blue and sweeping. But Kai'sa's operatic quality made her extremely attractive. Later that week they set up a meeting since Kai'sa was in town, only partly because Evelynn wanted to see her old friend.

"We need to make sure she meshes with our vibe. We're the opposite of indie, so she might not be on board."

"Just try not to fuck her unless we know contracts are off the table," Ahri said, with some amusement.

Evelynn's hand flew to her chest, gasping in shock. "I'd never fuck someone on their own contract! Give me some credit."

"That's not what I—" Ahri stopped at the sharp smile on Evelynn's face. "Hmm. Okay, you're negging me. That's fine."

Her wife moved around the counter, wrapping one arm around Ahri's waist. "Oh, sweetie. Do you not know what negging is? I don't think you know what that word means."

"I know when you're grating my nerves on purpose," she said, squeezing Evelynn's hand to let her know she was only joking.

"Well it's like my dad always used to say." Evelynn quickly swapped to English. "Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen."

"That's gross. You're gross."

Laughter, their usual biting back-and-forth, kept them distracted from their nerves. As things turned out, they needn't have worried.

  Kai'sa had black hair when Ahri first met her. She walked into her living room after a quick shopping trip, not expecting to find a stranger on the couch. The meeting officially wasn't supposed to happen for another hour, and Evelynn hadn't warned her the other woman arrived early.

Stopping in her tracks, Ahri couldn't even muster up shock, much less anger at the intrusion.

The woman appeared asleep, eyes closed and cheek resting on one arm. With her legs curled up under her, dressed in all black leather and lace, Kai'sa looked a bit like a wandering, dreamy forest spirit. Sensing another presence in the room, or maybe feeling Ahri's stare, Kai'sa slowly opened her eyes. They were a shade of blue so intense Ahri mistook them for purple contacts.

"Oh!" Kai'sa smiled, shoulders hunching in apology. "Hi! You must be Ahri. Your wife let me in, sorry if I startled you."

"It's no problem," Ahri said, quickly connecting the voice to this face. "I've been looking forward to meeting you, Kai'sa."

"Me, too!"

When Kai'sa stood up, Ahri had to fight the urge to take a step back. She was tall, almost as tall as Evelynn in heels. Watching her was like watching a dark flower unfurl, every movement somehow graceful and transformative. Just getting to her feet netted a change, liquid almost, from a spindly-legged fawn curled up on her couch to something looming and large and covered in shadows.

Oh no, Ahri thought in distress. She's hot and nice.

A devastating combination.

"You like her," Evelynn crooned later that night.

"We need her for the band," Ahri said firmly.

"Yeah," Evelynn drifted closer in their bed. "But you like her. Want me to tell you what she's into?"

Normally, Ahri would have played along. There wasn't any point in pretending that Kai'sa wasn't her type, that she wasn't... devastatingly attractive. But Ahri pressed a finger to Evelynn's lips instead, forcing her to be serious. "We can't do this, Eve."

Falling silent, Evelynn kissed Ahri's finger, waiting for her to continue. They both lay on their side, facing each other. Occasionally Evelynn's leg snuck out, toes stroking over Ahri's calf to maintain contact.

"Bands have broken up over less. Best friends have become enemies, to say nothing of how messy a romance would be." Ahri kept her voice firm. "So we won't. Not even as a joke. Okay?"

Evelynn easily agreed. "Kai'sa is off limits. Should we add that to the contract?"

It was another joke, but Ahri still wasn't in the mood for it. It almost felt like an accusation, and she curled in on herself at the mere thought. "We're better than the shitty old men who signed us on, Eve. No dating clauses in our contracts." She spat the words out.

Again Evelynn agreed, taking both of Ahri's hands. Pushing them into fists, she brought them to her lips and kissed them in apology. "Then we'll just have to trust each other."

Ahri finally smiled. "Easy."

 "Two more," Ahri said.

"One more," Evelynn responded.

"Five's a good number."

Evelynn just looked at her, hair bunched up on top of her head in a messy bun. They were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, the gym sweltering.

"One more," she said again.

Ahri smiled helplessly, one hand on her hip. "...One more."

  Ahri knew who she wanted, but it would take some convincing to get Evelynn to consider it. Virality did not impress Evelynn. As she succinctly pointed out, people could go viral by literally eating shit. It took something stronger to sway their diva. As Kai'sa and Ahri tried to find their fourth, they knew only a true artist would please her.

"She's so picky," Kai'sa said, lounging casually on their couch once more. But this time she rested her head on Ahri's lap, affectionate and physical as a cat. "I love it."

When Kai'sa stretched, the hem of her shirt rode up a bit. Vicious marks kissed her pale skin; Ahri traced them with her fingernail, each one angry red and familiar. Evelynn had a flogger with a custom tongue, one that could leave the perfect imprint of a heart behind when wielded by an expert hand. "I see my wife left an impression on you."

"Yeah, she's inspiring."

"Not what I meant." Eyebrow cocked, Ahri pulled up Kai'sa's shirt a little more to press her thumb against a prominent bruise.

Kai'sa flinched, half-sitting up. "Huh? Oh! Uh, no, Eve and I aren't like that!" She turned red, smoothing her shirt back down. "I had a date with a new domme last night," she explained, flustered. "Evelynn supervised to make sure I was safe." Twisting on Ahri's lap, Kai'sa pressed her palms to her cheeks, squealing. "So she let me borrow her... you know. Her stuff."

Between the three of them, Ahri wasn't sure who promised to court the most controversy. But one thing was becoming increasingly clear: if this had started as an attempt to clean up Evelynn's reputation, it was no longer on that trajectory.

"All right," Evelynn declared, arriving in the room on silent feet only to loudly announce her presence right behind the couch. Squeaking in surprise, Kai'sa almost rolled off Ahri's lap onto the floor. "I'm here. Let me see the meme girl."

Ahri tilted her head back, frowning up at Evelynn. "You didn't watch the link I sent you?"

"I want to watch it on your phone," Evelynn said. "If I start sullying my search history with trending trash it'll mess up all my algorithms."

"She's not a meme," Kai'sa insisted. "She's viral, there's a difference."

"Oh, bokkie." Evelynn's voice dripped, sucrose and condescension. It was the only scrap of Afrikaans she'd bothered learning so far, mainly because it made Kai'sa light up every time, no matter the context. Leaning over the back of the couch, she reached down to stroke her fingers through Kai'sa's hair. "It's so cute how you think I care."

Reprimanding her because she knew Kai'sa wouldn't, Ahri lightly slapped Evelynn's wrist. Evelynn grinned, shaking her hand as if that really stung.

"Behave," she said, passing her phone over.

So Evelynn watched the music video. Ahri had already broken the repeat button, knew every angle by heart. She studied Evelynn instead, trying to decipher her thoughts. Her wife stood there with a hand over her mouth, poker face intact through the whole video.

When it was over, Kai'sa and Ahri exchanged a nervous look. Ahri had been the one to find this girl, this Akali. Something about her had inspired the same instant magnetic appeal she'd felt when she heard Kai'sa for the first time.

But would Evelynn agree?

After a long moment of thoughtful silence, Evelynn tapped the repeat button.

Success!

No commentary was offered, not until Evelynn had watched the video three times. Gently ushering Kai'sa off her lap, Ahri stood at Evelynn's elbow to watch the video herself.

It still thrilled her, the wordplay and clarity razor sharp. On screen, Akali sat surrounded by computer towers, lit only by the glow of a dozen monitors. In the semidarkness, surrounded by wires, the story unfolded visually and lyrically. She wasn't just an artist, she was a scientist, or an engineer. Each verse had as much information and layer to it as a microchip. Every aspect, no matter how minuscule, was carefully crafted and bolted together into something with more horsepower than a Ferrari.

Through it all Akali herself provided the human aspect. Sinew and blood and sweat. Organic in contrast to the machine, the beauty of the human body splayed out in contrast to its inescapable and unromantic biological reality.

Kai'sa had already chattered Ahri's ear off about the symbolism of the negative space and metaphor in the dancing, though Ahri personally thought Akali could use a little more finesse.

Evelynn finally put the video on loop. "Hmm."

"It's got two million views," Ahri couldn't help but point out.

"Mhm."

Ahri was getting impatient, pressing Evelynn for something less monosyllabic. "Do you not like her?"

That forced Evelynn to admit what they already knew. "I like her."

"You think she's a bad fit for the band?"

Evelynn finally tore her eyes away from the music video, blinking slow as if waking from a lengthy daydream. It continued playing in the background; heavy beats thundered, the pulse of something clawed and hungry. As she rapped, the muscles under Akali's naked skin rippled in the surreal blue glow of the computer monitors. Tattooed scales seemed to shift and writhe like the real thing, the dragon dancing on her shoulder blades. "I think she's perfect."

Kai'sa smiled quizzically. "So what's the problem?"

"Ahri's always been a vixen. And Kai'sa, you're my little doe," Evelynn said after a moment of thought. "I'm not sure I can handle a predator in my territory."

"Evelynn," Ahri said. "What exactly do you think a fox is?"

"You're domesticated."

"Play nice," Kai'sa demanded. She climbed over the back of the couch to join them, legs swinging like a butterfly knife. Taking the phone and setting it aside, she drew Evelynn closer in a hug. "Let's call up this Akali girl and talk to her. What do you say?"

"Hmm."

She stepped a little closer, Ahri and Evelynn with Kai'sa between them.

"Sounds like a plan," Evelynn said.

  A flurry of emails were exchanged, but no phone calls. Not at first. The plan was to meet her in person before anything.

If pressed, Ahri would later admit she wanted to catch her off-guard.

None of them were expecting a Japanese-styled dojo. Ahri had to check the address a few times to make sure they were in the correct location; it looked like Akali's family home was connected to the building.

Twisting forward with her hands clutched behind her back, Kai'sa gave Ahri an almost coy smirk. "Maybe they're taking new students."

"If we're lucky," Evelynn said, one arm draped over her shoulders.

Inside, they were greeted by a graying man, an uncle, Akali's guardian. After a lot of flustered confusion heralded by the arrival of three very out-of-place popstars, they managed to ascertain Akali's location.

She was the sole person on the main floor at this hour. She bounced in a set of tight shorts and a sports bra and nothing else. Nothing except the wireless headphones in her ears, pulsing a beat that they could all hear and recognize even from a few yards away. The dragon tattoo identified her immediately, and something low simmered in Ahri's belly at the confirmation that it was real ink and not just body paint for the music video.

Akali was a vision. She carried herself with the kind of swagger that only practiced physical confidence could bring, equally at home on a stripper pole or at the weights section of a public gym. Shifting in place, Ahri struggled to remember why she'd come here as every flex of Akali's well-muscled body drove her to distraction.

"Oohh," Kai'sa said. "She's so cute. Like a fun-sized candy."

Ahri glanced sidelong at her, unable to resist. "So you want to eat her up?"

At least she wasn't the only one enjoying the show. As Akali slowly worked through her routine, the three of them watched, all equally fascinated.

But one of them was displeased.

"How long is she going to ignore us?" Evelynn muttered darkly, snapping Ahri out of it. "We came all this way to see her."

Ahri set a hand on her chest, keeping her from moving forward. "She doesn't know we're here, Eve. Look at her."

It was true. She hadn't turned her back once, too focused on her routine. Akali paused only to sinuously slide from side to side, humming along to the music in her ears. Even when she stopped to grab a training weapon, she swung it through the air with her back to the entrance.

"Well, we should let her know we're waiting."

"Really?" Kai'sa covered her grin with one hand. "I kind of want to see how long she'll stay oblivious."

Evelynn wasn't in the mood for games, oddly enough.

Instead she strode across the mat, before Ahri could stop her. Ahri winced, expecting there to be an accident as Akali swung her wooden weapon from side to side. It wasn't a sword as far as Ahri could tell, instead some kind of curved staff, but it was definitely made to hurt.

The next time Akali turned to swing, Evelynn caught the practice weapon in her bare hand.

They locked eyes.

Surprised, Akali retreated a step only for Evelynn to follow her. She leaned back; Evelynn craned forward. Even without heels she towered over the other girl, staring down at her with an intensity that almost seemed angry. The movement felt like fight but looked like a dance, and for a split second Ahri wasn't sure who was leading.

Akali froze. Her grip tightened on the weapon's handle, her mouth a thin, tight line.

Slowly, Evelynn tapped the side of her own face.

Getting the message, Akali took off her headphones. Agony's Embrace poured out, one of Evelynn's most popular singles. From Akali's perspective, this might well have felt like the real world and fantasy had collided, the music video spilling into reality.

With a sharp tug, Akali pulled the weapon free of Evelynn's grasp. "Don't do that again," she said. "This isn't a toy. If this hits you, it'll hurt."

"Do you promise?" Evelynn said.

Akali's brow furrowed.

Evelynn, behave!

Standing tall, Akali tapped her open palm with the blunt edge of her weapon. "You're... Siren?" Then she looked to the side, doing a double take at the sight of Ahri. "And Foxy's here too?"

The stage names were more well-known than their real ones. Beside Ahri, Kai'sa huffed in amusement, though she was used to getting overshadowed in the circles she frequented.

"I hope we aren't interrupting anything important," Ahri said. "But we thought we'd drop by for a personal visit. You seemed open to the idea in your emails."

Akali was shorter than Ahri had anticipated. The video had made her seem giant, a pillar of confidence. "Guess I wasn't actually expecting you to be real."

"Oh, we're real," Evelynn said. "What remains to be seen is if you are."

Crossing her arms, Akali leaned back a bit to regard Evelynn. "You're real funny, at least," she said, her smirk unsure if it wanted to land on confused or amused. All in all, she was taking this very well. She remained composed despite being half-naked and caught unaware.

Ahri was pleased.

...Until later that night, when it came time to draft up the contracts. She paced, and worried her lips, and drank too much tea until Evelynn finally took her by the arm and dragged her away from her office.

Thick trees surrounded their bedroom balcony, the metal railing warm from the balmy summer night. While Ahri brooded over the edge, Evelynn uncorked a bottle of wine for them, dry and white the way Ahri preferred it.

"Let's enjoy some alone time together," Evelynn said, the words a promise.

Turning to accept it, Ahri only took a single sip before she blurted out, "I think we're in trouble, Eve."

Evelynn poured herself a glass, uncaring, as if she hadn't heard. "Your diet allows a little wine now and again, doesn't it?"

"Evelynn."

Golden eyes finally darted away from the wine to focus on her. "What?"

"Things aren't going according to my plan."

To her credit, Evelynn didn't take this as another opportunity to tease Ahri. She could sense this was something too precarious for their usual humor, and dancing on a razor blade of trust wasn't a good idea right then. "Okay. Talk to me."

"I started this for you," Ahri said, distressed. "But somehow that goal got away from me."

"Well, I never really expected things to go according to plan?" Evelynn responded, a little cautiously. "They rarely do."

A single breeze stirred, hot and damp. It offered no relief from the hot summer night, just as Evelynn's words did little to lessen her worries. Ahri stayed stubbornly quiet, not liking the truth in the statement even if she loved the reassurance that Evelynn wasn't lying. Not even to spare her feelings.

"More importantly." Then, gentle, Evelynn hooked a finger under her chin and drew her gaze back up. "What makes you think I'm not enjoying every second of this?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"So you're nervous for no reason? That's just anxiety-brain talking, babe."

No, there was a reason. But it was messy, and not in the good way. "I don't know how I ever thought we wouldn't court controversy with this. We have two unknowns on our team and they're not exactly traditional."

"That's good," Evelynn said. "Unless you wanted to make something bland? Play around with mass appeal?"

She stood up straighter, almost in horror. "No!"

"Me, neither. So what's the problem? Why've you got cold feet all of a sudden?"

Because now it was real and not just a dream, and that meant it could break.

"I thought if I was just—" ( a good girl ) "If we were careful, maybe things wouldn't..." ( no one would want to hurt us ).

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That was going to happen regardless. Evelynn had few friends in the media. Even if that photographer deserved what he got, even if it was worth the lawsuit and the settlement, nobody was liable to forget it anytime soon. No one with a stake in keeping them pliable would forget that Evelynn refused to bend.

Calm as ever, Evelynn weathered it all with a shrug. "A married couple forming a group together was always going to garner a lot of attention, both negative and positive."

That was the worst part. Her naive hope, masqueraded by a bluster of confidence. The worst part was she really had believed what she told Evelynn all those weeks ago. She'd promised an environment where Evelynn could make her music with little scrutiny, and here was confirmation that Evelynn hadn't believed her for a second.

"Akali hasn't even confirmed whether she wants to join us or not," Evelynn went on. "So if you really want someone who'll get the cameras off me, someone polite and demure we can point to and hide behind and pretend we're normal with, we can do that."

"I don't."

"So..."

A stress headache was forming between her eyes, pulsing harder and harder with every passing second. "I know the second we go public we'd be under scrutiny. I just wanted you to feel protected when that inevitably happened," she said. "Whatever it took to make you come back home to me."

There it was. 

Taken aback, Evelynn looked off-kilter. Her whole body language shifted, uneven and wide-eyed. Closing her eyes, Ahri took the wine glass and knocked it all back with a few quick gulps.

"Always thinking about me," Evelynn murmured, pouring her another glass at her insistence.

"This spiraled out of my control. I won't let that happen again."

Thankfully, Evelynn hadn't leapt to the worst possible conclusion, as Ahri feared she would. Instead Evelynn had recovered from her shock to swing right back into fond amusement. "Well there's your mistake, gumiho. Control is just an illusion."

"I can still control this," she insisted.

Merciful tonight, Evelynn sipped her own wine without arguing that point. "All right. But what's more important? Being safe? Not taking this risk, this opportunity? Quitting while we're ahead?"

She finished her first drink while Ahri nursed her second, wondering if it was worth breaking her diet for.

Stepping forward, Evelynn tucked her free hand on the back of Ahri's neck. She pulled Ahri to her chest, comforting her. "Or... taking all this raw energy and completely changing the landscape of the game?"

"You think we can do that?"

"I knew we could the moment you asked me to come back."

She had come back the moment Ahri asked, hadn't she? All it took was one phone call. All Ahri had to do was ask and Evelynn had sprinted back to her side. What more could Evelynn do to display her trust?

Suddenly, she felt even more foolish for needing Evelynn to soothe all her fears. Though Ahri fought it, a single furious tear slipped down her cheek before she roughly wiped it away. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Eve."

Evelynn's body shook with a laugh. "You big softie."

"Yes," she said, voice muffled when she pressed her face harder against Evelynn's chest.

Then she pulled her down, demanding a kiss. Evelynn happily obliged, taking their glasses in one hand and setting them aside. She pushed Ahri against the balcony door, and she almost sank down against the glass panes. But Evelynn insisted she stay upright, her hands fumbling the zipper to her skirt.

She tasted like dry white wine, all her sweetness made complex by bitter acidity. Full and flooding, filling her mouth and trailing down her lips. A wet line painted down her throat, heat buzzing through her.

She pushed up Evelynn's shirt, unclasping her bra to toy with her breasts unhindered. Sharp metal studs twisted between her knuckles, each tug making Evelynn whimper louder, and louder.

An echoing ache pounded between her own legs, every inch of her in agony for lack of being touched.

Ahri moved them to the bed, unable to keep steady for much longer. They stripped naked, all their favorite games tossed aside in the need of the moment. Ahri wanted touch, to feel all of Evelynn pressed up against her. She could have spent the whole night just kissing her, or licking her metal piercings until they shone from the attention.

Shifting closer, her breath stuttered when she reached between Evelynn's legs to feel liquid heat pooling around her fingers. "Ooh, you're so wet already. But I think we can make you wetter."

Bowing her head against Ahri's shoulder, Evelynn nodded, a pleased note rumbling in her chest. There was only so much of that should take before needing more. Fumbling in their bedside dresser, Ahri cracked open a bottle. Then, unable to resist, she let the contents drip onto Evelynn's bare stomach without any preamble.

She nearly leapt off the bed. "Shit!"

Ahri sat back on her heels, eyes narrowing in pleasure. "Oh no. Is it cold?" she asked innocently.

Evelynn wiped a palm over her stomach, leaving a shiny swipe of lube behind. "You know it is, get that shit-eating grin off your face."

But she then dipped lower, spreading it between her lips. Evelynn relaxed against the bed again as Ahri enjoyed the view, still sitting between her knees. After a murmured request, her hand joined Evelynn's. Careful not to get in her way, she let Evelynn focus on her clit while she teased her entrance.

After a hushed request, she went deeper. The resulting moan left her warm in the face, flushed and pleased with herself. She worked two fingers inside of Evelynn, tight heat constricting around her with every flutter of pleasure.

It was hard to resist falling apart under their combined effort. Evelynn tightened around her fingers, back arching up sharply. Ahri kept her grounded with a hand on her hip, enjoying the sight of a rare, genuine smile on Evelynn's face. It only lasted as long as the orgasm did, fading away with the aftershocks to be replacing with ragged gasping.

One more, Ahri thought, not letting Evelynn relax. She shoved Evelynn's hand away, replacing it with her mouth. Evelynn shifted again, writhing eagerly from overstimulation.

"Fffffuuuck," she hissed, making Ahri giggle. "You're so mean to me."

Because she was the only one who could get away with it. Call it a perk of marriage or their long-lasting friendship; either way, it was a right she exercised as often as she could. It was a flex of power, a reaffirmation.

And as much as Evelynn protested, she loved it.

Keeping one arm braced over Evelynn's stomach, she kept her from bucking too much as she focused on making her come again. She didn't know exactly what would work but she could guess, curling her fingers and searching until she made Evelynn moan hoarsely.

She felt Evelynn's orgasm, rippling over her hands and hammering against her tongue. She let Evelynn run wild, trying to stay with her and suck away every last shred of sensation she could steal. Satisfied only when Evelynn begged her to stop, Ahri sat back again, stroking her own breasts and using her wet fingers to touch herself.

At least until Evelynn yanked her back down onto the mattress, nose against the sheets. "Hey!"

Getting up to her elbows, she glared over her shoulder only to falter at the sight that greeted her. Evelynn seemed almost feral in the dark, face flushed and pupils blown from arousal. Pulling Ahri's hips up firmly but gently, she shuffled closer and landed a slap so hard it cracked the air.

Ahri bit her lip, bowing her head again to keep from shouting. "... Ow," she said instead, slowly, grinding it out.

"You've been asking for this," Evelynn said, spanking her again. This one was lighter, a tap on her other cheek.

"I have not."

Evelynn's breath was suddenly at her ear, her piercings two harsh spots of pressure on Ahri's shoulder blades. "Then tell me to stop."

She didn't say anything, but she knew the flush spreading down her spine spoke loud enough. Satisfied, Evelynn hit her again, but never as hard as that first time. It was a slow ascent to reach that level of intensity again. Each slap of flesh accompanied a muffled whimper as Ahri buried her face into the pillows.

By the end of it she was a trembling mess, the pillow wet from a mix of tears and the fabric clenched tightly between her teeth. She huffed out through her nose, every exhale labored.

It was worse when Evelynn stopped. Because then all the blood was rushing to her irritated skin, hot and aching as metal left in sunlight.

When she dared peek over her shoulder again, Evelynn laughed.

"What?" Evelynn murmured, stroking a hand over Ahri's spine. "You look like a sad little puppy." To prove her point, she stroked Ahri's head next, tousling her hair until she whined.

"I didn't tell you to stop," Ahri said, with her forehead pressed to the pillows again.

"Hmm. No." Ahri flinched, tensing up again when Evelynn merely pressed the flat of her hands on her sore cheeks. Then two fingers spread her open, slick on her sex as they moved to frame her clit. "You didn't."

  "The driver is late."

Two weeks later and the three of them were waiting outside of Ahri and Evelynn's house for their ride, each of them wearing thick black sunglasses. Evelynn was fairly smoldering, deeply incensed at the insult of needing to be driven somewhere.

"This is why I drive myself," she continued, as Kai'sa consolingly patted her arm.

Ahri felt for her, but it couldn't be helped. "This guy just likes a certain measure of control, which means he has his driver pick us up."

"And we need him because..."

"Because we need to start getting aggressive with our online advertising." Ahri checked her phone again, searching for an email from Akali that still hadn't come. She remained just out of reach, slipping through the cracks of Ahri's grasp. "We're going to start working on a few singles and by the time we're done, the stage will be set to receive us."

"A nice fluffy landing pad!" Kai'sa agreed.

"Hrmm." Evelynn crossed her arms, but didn't argue anymore, she Ahri counted it a success.

"Trust me, Evelynn," she said, typing out a quick tweet to her public account. "This is going to explode in a very big way."

  far more sweetsounding than a lyre golder than gold

— from Anne Carson’s translation of Sappho’s fragments, entitled If Not, Winter

[da-at-ass]

Hey everyone. Sorry it’s taken so long to get myself together. 2017 was actually a really rough year for me, in many ways that I can’t really talk about. That’s why writing this post was so hard to do: I’ve been constantly wondering how much I can say and how to say it. I try to be pretty frank and open, but there’s some things about my life that I won’t openly say to a crowd of a few thousand people at least. At the same time, I feel like when life holds me back from doing what i want to do for the community, that an explanation is warranted. I LIKE having an explanation for things. I also like you not reblogging this post, so: please do not reblog this post, or I will block you. It doesn’t belong anywhere but on my blog.

So, I can give a brief summary. I am now at the tail end of the five year journey that was my early transition. I say was, because I’ve shifted enough that by now, I’m in a different stage or about to be in a different one and am currently in an interstitial one. The big difference is that my weight redistributed enough to be noticeable after enough consistent testosterone doses, and also I’ve made a lot of psychological progress and that’s made a huge difference in my demeanor. So yay, the me that is in the present is in a good position to go forward! But the me that went through the last five years is... still me, and I am exhausted.

Let’s talk about the last five years, because I have been very silent on a lot of details here and I’d like to finally be able to talk about them.

Five years ago, I had just bought a house and started a new job. I bought the house with a friend--oldschoolers will know her as Tif aka tiferetstrokes aka some other account after she deleted that blog but she forgot the password to. She co-ran @merkavahpartyvan when I first started running it, although co-ran really just meant she posted an article when she felt like it. But when I started it, she insisted on being a part of it, so co-admin it was. She also defined a lot of the early “stance” of MPV, which accounts for why the attitudes in the articles sort of drift over time. Tif and I actually had very different opinions about magic and spirits, but she’d use MPV as a device to frame her attitudes as legitimate, and make me have to account for them as “canon” if I stated my own views.

People who don’t know what was going on with Tif will tell me they miss her or they’ll ask me to extend their well-wishes, without knowing that by now I simply will not contact her and barely have a clue about her life by now. You can see in the previous paragraph some obvious annoyances I had, and there was a lot of other stuff going on besides. I won’t trouble you with the details, but suffice it to say that she decided to leave in early 2016. (I want to make it clear that we never had a romantic relationship, owning a house was about paying less for housing.) Since then, obviously some paperwork and other stuff has had to be settled, and it’s left me exhausted as it only just all finished up in late December 2017. I spent the holidays either traveling or collapsed. And I spent every moment between 2016 and December 26 2017 feeling utterly, completely nervewracked about what my future would possibly be, and if I could ever truly trust anyone I was friends with. In early spring of 2017, feeling like I had figured out the answer to that and feeling confident in my relationships, I experienced a huge breach of trust from a friend and, when I tried to hold them accountable for that breach of trust, they pretended to take responsibility... then threatened a week later to end our friendship if I ever criticized them again. I ended the friendship myself after that. It really wrenched me, and made it even more difficult for me to handle the issues I had to wrestle with in 2017. It’s the first full calendar year i spent totally out as a trans man, and... man, was some shit stressful.

Now I’m not really threatened, you know? The people that messed with my life are out of it, and I don’t have to deal with them anymore. But they still left messes. Just today I had to clean up a giant mess that Tif’s kids left in some of my cabinetry and she never cleaned up (that’s the origin of the google honey cleanup post). It’s hard not to keep seizing up. I get distracted a lot. Sometimes when certain songs play or pop culture references come up, I have to skip them or the media they’re on.

I’m doing BETTER now. But this stuff left me unable to produce. I have been exhausted. I have been nervewracked. I have been so stressed that my body was in pain from it. Now that it’s all over, I still haven’t fully relaxed yet. But I am, slowly, making things again.

At some point I’m going to make a new thing to replace Merkavah Party Van. I may leave it up as it is and just reblog the new things articles to it. But I need to leave MPV behind. Tif imprinted too much onto it, in a way that’s too snarled-up to untangle from the site itself. I’d rather start again in the direction I wanted to take in the first place. And I’m excited about where that’s going to go.

Updates on the Patreon soon.

[paulsebert]

Worst Comics of the 2000s: Spider-Man’s Get Kraven

Yeah... it’s been a LOOOONG time since I got around updating my “Worst Comics of the 2010s” list in part because I had just about gotten around to rounding things off to an even 10 when Nick Spencer was all like “Hold My Beer” and gave us Secret Empire.  So I’m going to start another soon to be seldom-updated side project: The Worst Comics of the 2000s, the age of decompressed storytelling, post Identity Crisis schlock, and some pretty terrible crossovers.  But unlike my worst comics of the 2010s series I’m not going to try to list them in any kind of ranking to give me some more flexibility.  One of the advantages of this is gives me a chance to talk about comics that are unexpectedly topical.  For instance did you know about the time that Harvey Weinstein was a villain in a Marvel Comic?

So for a brief window in the early 2000s it looked like Hollywood writer Rob Zimmerman was going to be a big deal in comics.  He was the creator a critically acclaimed but short-lived TV series called “Action” and wrote some well received Spider-Man stories (an issue of Spider-Man’s Tangled Web and the One Shot “Sweet Charity.”)  Because of this Zimmerman was rewarded with some high-profile mini-series.  The most famous and successful of which was “Rawhide Kid: Slap Leather” a mini-series that re-imagined the classic western character as a gay man.  Slap Leather is a weird footnote because it sort of marks the tail end of 90s “I’m not homophobic but isn’t the existence of gay people hillarious?” humor.  It was a weird book that faced criticism and boycots from two sides of the political spectrum.  Conservatives hated it because it was at a time when they could be as openly homophobic as they wanted they hated the very idea of ANY kind of gay representation.  Members of the gay community hated it because it subscribed to a “GAY=CAMP” mentality.  That said while I won’t call “Slap Leather” a terrible comic, I will say people complaining about Iceman’s current characterization should really take notice of Zimmerman’s “hey what if Will from Will & Grace was a cowboy? LOL” take on the RawhideKid.

Zimmerman’s next two projects though consist of “Ultimate Adventures” a Batman parody with jokes that you already read in better Batman parodies but set in the Ultimate Universe (for not good reason) and “Get Kraven” a book that some people would soon proclaim to be one of the worst Spider-Man Spinoffs ever. Zimmerman’s career might have survived these bombs, had not it not been for his terrible attitude. Zimmerman developed a reputation for showing up at conventions and acting like he was a rock star and at point started writing a column for a comics website called “Ronnie Z is always right.” Thank god twitter wasn’t around in yet.  Anyway Get Kraven was a much hyped project that was released to tie-in to the first Spider-Man movie and had beautiful movie poster inspired covers drawn by Joe Quesada himself.  It would wind up selling so poorly that it was canceled after six issues despite being solicited as a seven issue mini-series.

In theory Get Kraven is basically “Get Shorty” but with a super villain.  Only not really. It stars Alyosha Kraven, the son of the original Kraven the Hunter who is a character whose personality drastically changes every time a new writer gets ahold of him. In Zimmerman’s prior stories Al was a wealthy playboy who was sometimes a friend, often a hindrance to Spider-Man. This made him a standout in “Sweet Charity” and the “Double Shots” issue of Tangled Web, but a good supporting character doesn’t always make a good protagonist.  At the start of Get Kraven Alyosha has walked away from villainy, has a inherited a fortune, has a beautiful girlfriend. He’s decided to become a film producer because he’s bored.  Keep in mind this is the starting point of the story and well... it’s not a great hero’s journey.  

Another part of the story is that given the spotlight this version of Kraven doesn’t really have much more to do than stand around and be snarky.  He’s not gleefully amoral like the Pete Dragon (the protagonist of Zimmerman’s own Action tv series) nor is he a master manipulator with a character arc like Travolta in Get Shorty.  

Anyway the plot kicks in when Henry and Joe Rothstein (parodies of the real life Harvey and Bob Weinstein) decide to kill Kraven because they uh... don’t want him making movies.  They hire some mutant heavies to take out and Kraven easily kicks their asses. Now even before Harvey’s real life sexual harassment behavior the Weinsteins have a whole laundry list of things you could base a super-villain on ranging from trying to rig the Oscars to blackballing directors they don’t like.  Zimmerman decides to focus on the fact they’re overweight.  So we’re treated to the kind of fat jokes a fifth grade bully would come up with along with loving illustrations of the Rothsteins shoving their faces with food.

Issue #5 is where the book goes from “weird forgettable book with a few good jokes” to “ALL TIME WORST, DO NOT READ, TRIGGER WARNING, SQUICK” territory. The Rothsteins henchmen finally get the drop on Kraven and (thankfully off panel) sexually assault his girlfriend Timber Hughes. To say this is a jarring change in tone is an understatement.  Imagine if someone inserted the flashback pages from Identity Crisis in the middle of “Formerly Known As The Justice League.” That’s what this comic is like only worse because one of the characters involved is a caricature of a real life sexual predator.. 

This all sets up a 100% angst-driven MAN-PAIN revenge rampage in the final issue that still has time for a Spider-Man Team-Up, a comedic subplot about The Vulture trying to be a superhero, a hanging thread from an earlier Zimmerman Spider-Man story about The Chameleon having amnesia thinking he’s the real Kraven, and a third never-before mentioned Kraven brother. Kraven declines a chance to kill the Rothsteins but The Vulture decides to castrate them.  We flash forward to learn that The Rothsteins have decided to transition into becoming trans-women (because in the later 90s/early 00s hateful “tranny” jokes were still “edgy”) and the now fully recovered Timber murders them with a baseball bat with a nail in it.  Oh and there’s a bonus on the last page where we learn that Kraven’s pet wolf can actually talk and break the fourth wall. WHAT THE FUCK?!

[brajeshupadhyay]

How COVID-19 is changing queer spaces: Opening doors to some, while shutting out the more vulnerable

If it seems like everyone around us is reaching out for a shoulder to lean on in this time of the pandemic, then that need is urgent, desperate and acutely experienced when it comes to those marginalised by mainstream society. In speaking to members from the LGBTQ+ communities, it becomes evident that differences are further magnified within these communities. Factors like caste, class, creed and corporeal compositions which are already hurdles to accessing benefits in the mainstream become more crippling. And much like other support institutions battling to provide care and assistance, these LGBTQ+ safe spaces have been forced to go online as well.

While there have been some fundamental changes engendered by this shift, there are other issues that have only become clearer. And addressing them will be the demanding hard work needed to ensure an equitable future for these groups, as well as our societies at large.

For Good As You, the longest, continuously running LGBTQ support group, which has been around for more than 25 years, it was a no-brainer to move their physical weekly meetings to an online platform. “And it was immediately interesting to see who began coming for the meetings,” according to the openly gay Srinivas Muktha, a software engineer who volunteers with the group and has been actively attending its activities since 2005. “In the past, people would come for the meetings either through the route of counselling or accompanied by friends. With the newer members on these online meetings, there has been no such pattern. In fact, for a lot of them, it was their first time socially interacting with the community and not just for hook-ups as before. These new members are logging on from towns in coastal Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, and we have a few people attending from the North as well,” he points out. “In the before times, distance and commitment would be the common reasons behind the floating population at the weekly meetings, but presently, location and distance aren’t factors at all,” he adds.

Another significant change that Srinivas has noticed has been the multiple languages being spoken on these online meetings. “There has always been an effort to translate any member who wants to speak in a language they are comfortable with at the meetings. In reality, English has become the default language. But with these online platforms, being able to simultaneously translate people through text in the chat window has changed this aspect,” he tells us. And people aren’t bothered at all because we’re so used to reading subtitles, he quips. “This has allowed people to speak up at these meetings even if it is their first time attending it. And language isn’t the barrier any longer,” he adds.

This increase in attendance and need for conversation with others from the LGBTQ+ communities is also something witnessed by Rohini Malur, a communications manager, who is a founding member of All Sorts of Queer, a support group and safe space for all queer people who aren’t cis-men, which started in 2016. “We would do Wednesday Drinks as a weekly meetup before, but hardly anyone would show up. In these times, with an increasing sense of loneliness and helplessness, our weekly online meetings are very well attended,” she says. “For many of our members, who are women, non-binary and trans, it has been a difficult situation. Emotionally for sure, but even physically in some instances with being forced to move back with their birth families for different reasons. Either they’re ‘out’ but live with a disapproving family or they’re ‘not out’ and have had to suppress their desires and its expressions,” she explains. “Or it is harder because they’re living alone, we’ve had instances of members of the group moving in with each other to battle these feelings during the lockdowns,” she added.

For the heterosexual community and cis-queer men – by and large – the home has always been the safe space. Therefore returning, rediscovering and refurbishing it has been their present preoccupation in this period of social distancing. This hasn’t been the case at all for members of the trans community, says Kanaga, a Chennai-based trans woman who has been volunteering for several years with a number of organisations working for transgender rights in Tamil Nadu, besides working as an IT consultant. While Kanaga notes the transition of safe spaces into online forums as a positive move, she does want to point out an oversight. “The problem within our larger community has always been one of access,” she stresses. “Who gets to use the terms ‘mental health’, ‘stress’, ‘self-care’? Who gets to access these new online avenues when these ‘safe spaces’ have always been trans-exclusionary? Who among us gets to have a ‘home’?” she asks.

“There’s a subset of the community who still need these physical safe spaces. The trouble is for a majority of the trans community, the safe space cannot be converted into the digital forum. Among my own circle of friends and acquaintances in the community, I saw the way that they missed this year’s Pride March though it happened online. For them, they miss dressing up for cultural events and going wild during the March. They’ve had to keep it all together for an entire year and at these community gatherings, they just let it go. So for us, from the trans community, these drop-in centres, physical safe spaces and houses of our friends are very necessary still,” she explains.

While in her own experience, Kanaga did seek out online spaces over a decade ago in a bid to be seen as she wanted to be seen, called by the names and pronouns she preferred, through working with her community she has also come to see the slippages that happen in this seemingly easy move to the online space. “In a community where personal space isn’t a given, it is already hard to access basic needs, and if one does access these digital forums, the ingrained trans-exclusionary nature of these spaces has made sure that the gatekeeping is done thoroughly so that only a few of us can even squeeze through,” she remarks.

And in the instances where funds have been gathered to support these basic needs of the trans community, one trips over another hurdle. “An organisation I was volunteering with had received aid and had even transferred the money to each trans person's bank account. While most of them could go to a nearby ATM and withdraw the funds, some of them couldn’t. One of them was this disabled trans woman who couldn’t get any transport to gain access to the money because of the lockdowns. We managed to help her in this instance, but there’s always a little bit extra that can be done with regards to easing the lives of the marginalised communities, even the subset within a larger one,” she adds.

This need for private space, paraphernalia and ‘poshness’ to reach out to online safe spaces for community and camaraderie has also been pointed out by another subset of the LGBTQ+ community – the trans men community. Gee Imaan Semmalar, a trans man, currently a PhD candidate at the University of Kent, is a member of the working group of Sampoorna, a dedicated group of trans and intersex Indians. Sampoorna began in the mid-90s and was founded by three trans men and a trans woman who helped each other with medical and legal information. In 2004, the listserv was set up to enable sharing of information within an expanding circle of trans and intersex people. It still exists as a goldmine of the history of early conversations between trans men – regarding medical transitions as well as the mundane,” he quickly adds. While Gee echoed Kanaga’s observations with regards to the issues of “safe spaces” and “accessibility” faced by the trans male and intersex communities, he was able to point out one of the ways they’ve overcome the literacy problem. “I’ve noticed a boom in WhatsApp groups populated with trans men, and I’ve even been added to a couple of them. The voice message feature has really allowed us to connect, care and crowd-source help for one another inspite of the distances. These groups communicate in different languages, allowing for ease in communication. I’m part of one with over a hundred trans men from Kerala,” he attests, pleasantly surprised.

Gee points out that even with the shifts and new avatars that safe spaces are taking to tackle crises in the time of the pandemic, these might just be stop-gap solutions. There needs to be a more rigorous approach to this idea of safety itself. “The violence of the natal family still continues, one hears in the stories of the trans men stuck at home with their families that the violence has heightened, with them being forced to dress the way they don’t want to or constantly being nagged about marriage, and in these times they can’t even run away to someone’s house because there’s an understandable fear of exposure to the virus,” he says.

He also notes that certain support systems had long stopped before the emergence of this global situation. “Shelter homes for the LGBTQ+ community have long been shut down, and there’s a marked decrease in neutral spaces that would have acted as half-way homes for those who need it,” he adds. “And there might be a serious need to even redefine the very idea of ‘safe space’ after all this time. Even the home has proven to be otherwise, as seen with the brutal murder of trans-activist Maria at her own home in Kollam district, Kerala,” he argues. Kanaga underscores this concern when she says, “It isn’t safety if it isn’t guaranteed for all of us and is in the service of just some of us.”

via Blogger https://ift.tt/2PwxAxM

[bethevenyc]

Transgender soldier speaks out on military service, despite Trump's on-again-off-again ban: 'I'm breaking ground'

Zane Alvarez, who is serving in the U.S. Army. (Photo: Instagram/17Spark)

Transgender people serving in the U.S. military — a population estimated to be between 1,320 and 6,620 individuals  — have been on an emotional roller coaster since at least 2016. That’s when the Obama administration announced, “Effective immediately, transgender Americans may serve openly,” lifting what had always been a ban on such service.  

Rejoicing didn’t last long, however. In July 2017, President Trump bluntly tweeted, seemingly out of nowhere, that the military will no longer “accept or allow” transgender people to serve, creating chaos and questions. In October, a judge blocked enforcement of the ban, and then, as of January, transgender service members were welcomed once again, as the Justice Department on Friday put the proposed ban on hold and said it would not appeal federal court rulings ordering the military to begin the enlistments.

And now, in an attempt to stop any further whiplash on the subject, Lambda Legal and OutServe-SLDN have begun a new legal challenge, hoping to permanently stop Trump from banning transgender troops in the military.

Meanwhile, throughout all the ups and downs and mixed messaging, transgender troops have been quietly serving their country — including Zane Alvarez, 23, currently serving in the U.S. Army, stationed in Germany, as a behavioral health technician, assessing active-duty members for supportive mental-health services. “But I went through basic training and advanced individual training, and I learned how to fire a weapon like everybody else,” Alvarez told Yahoo Lifestyle back in July, after Trump first tweeted about the ban. Because of his uncertain standing, he could not attach his name to his story then. But Yahoo Lifestyle has stayed in contact with Alvarez, who can now speak openly about his past and current experiences in the military. This, in his own words, is his story.

I came into the army in July 2012 at the age of 17. I enlisted because it’s a family business. My father is still active duty in the U.S. Army, and my grandfather served as well. I was just about to start my senior year of high school and I felt completely unprepared for what the world had in store for me; college honestly terrified me. But I had a pretty good understanding of what the military is about: I grew up around it; I knew my dad wasn’t the best kid growing up and that after being in the army it changed him, and I hoped it could do the same for me.

[When I enlisted] I wasn’t thinking about transitioning at all. All I was thinking about was getting in the Army and following in my father’s footsteps. I had had a lot of friends that were very homophobic and transphobic, and in turn I actually became extremely homophobic and transphobic for the longest time. So I denied it for years. It took a while to get to this point.

Day 573 entering Week 81 of HRT. [LL] Well just realizing that I wrote the wrong number of days last week, this is the correct amount! Currently back in Grafenwöhr learning all about weapons on this 2 week TDY. First day and wow I learned a ton. Can’t wait for it all to be over, tired of this bunk bed already. Hopefully I will have some real news for y’all when I back. Feel free to leave a message! Themakingofzane.Sarahah.com #ftm #trans #transgender #thisiswhattranslookslike #transman #transmen #transguy #transandproud #transmilitary #opentransservice #imgettingmystripes #transallies #tattoos #tattooedandemployed #hrt #shotday #monday #nofilter #myhopewillneverdie #themakingofzane

A post shared by Zaneford (@17spark) on Aug 7, 2017 at 9:42am PDT

  What I’d been known for in high school is when it came time to dress up, I really dressed up. There was a point when I had long hair and would wear makeup whenever it was prom or homecoming. Outside of that I was kind of tomboyish — I had long hair but would rarely wear a skirt if I didn’t have to. But I could dress girly.

It was well after high school that I started identifying as a lesbian, then bisexual, and I started dressing more masculine and got more comfortable with myself. I remember when I finally had to go clothes shopping, and I went to some big major store and women’s section and trying to figure out what in the world to pick out and I was like, “Wait a minute, this is my own money; I can pick out whatever I want!” I did not know how to dress myself, so all I did is buy jeans and T-shirts. But I finally got comfortable with dressing how I wanted to dress. I finally stopped caring about what people thought.

On transitioning while on active duty…

I started socially transitioning in 2015 to close friends and my aunt and my younger sister. Then I started medically transitioning in January 2016, with hormone replacement treatment, or HRT [testosterone], which is something that is paid for by the military. There wasn’t an established plan as to how they wanted soldiers to start transitioning, so all I needed was a letter from a behavioral health provider stating that I have gender dysphoria and that it would benefit me to start hormone replacement therapy.

Basically it’s all a matter of paperwork [and getting an] ETP, or exception to policy, outlining my care … it’s on its way up to D.C. and then it comes back to me and just takes a while to push through.

At this moment in time on all of my legal documents, and according to the Army, I am still a female on paper. So at work if I use the bathroom or if I’m in the field or I deploy, I have to be roomed with females or I have to use the women’s restroom or locker room, and when I’m in my dress uniform I have to wear the women’s dress uniform — the main difference being that the female uniform is made to hug the body, to show the female figure, even down to the shoes, which look like a pair of flats.

Rocking out on a convoy! I say hooah!

A post shared by Zaneford (@17spark) on Feb 4, 2018 at 12:31pm PST

  But I’m the furthest ahead in my transition compared with all the other transgender soldiers here in Europe. I’m the one who’s been breaking ground. There are about 20 of us for now, spread out. I know this through different groups, through other people reaching out to me, my Instagram and Facebook posts, [which I do] so people can reach out to me. Like, “Hey, you are a fellow transgender service member.”

Of the other trans service members I follow, I probably most look up to drill sergeant Ken Ochoa, who is female-to-male like myself; he went through the drill sergeant academy as female and already had started his transition, had top surgery, but still had to go through as female and did an amazing job. Another person is Aydian Dowling, a major person in the trans community, and Laverne Cox … and Logan Ireland and Laila Villanueva, who are doing a lot for the trans military community, looking out for the other transgender people who are struggling, who don’t have the money … or family support, and are helping those who need it.

When I go on a mission, I sleep in a female bay — basically a large room with nothing but bunk beds. (Otherwise I have my own room.) There are male bays and female bays. It gets pretty frustrating at times. Not everybody in my unit knows … so essentially, I’m having to come out over and over again. There are times when people have told me, “I’m completely uncomfortable with you being here,” and I can’t do anything about it. I have no choice but to say, “I’m sorry; I’m not happy about it either.”

There are not a lot of facilities that still have open room showers; it’s more like stalls with curtains, so you see people coming in and out. Before I do anything I let all the females know about my situation in advance and if at all possible I plan around it. I try to shower earlier and later than everybody else.

Thankfully in my unit, there’s no [hostility], but sometimes when I go on a temporary duty assignment … there is. One time, my situation was basically made out to be a joke, and there was a lot of behind-the-door conversation about me, and it was terrible. It just honestly felt terrible.

Time is flying!!! On this same day in 2013 I was on CQ. Crazy to see all the changes; from face, rank, uniform, location, and state of mind. To really see all the progress, I cannot believe how happy I am. More progress will be made but I have definitely come a long way from that soldier from before. To That, I say hooah!

A post shared by Zaneford (@17spark) on Oct 4, 2017 at 2:04pm PDT

  A big thing in military culture is having a tough skin. I had such a big problem with that before I started testosterone. I was very emotional at one point and time in my life. It’s way behind me now, but testosterone has given me a lot of confidence, and I don’t cower nearly as much.

I remember when I got my first shot of testosterone — actually for the first few months, every time I gave myself a shot — it was such a sense of euphoria. I noticed all these little changes, like my voice is a little deeper, or more muscle development, or that crappy mustache I can grow now — all these little itty-bitty victories, things that some people can take for granted. Every time someone I don’t know refers to me as a male, calls me “gentleman” or “young man” or “sir,” I always smile. That is the number one thing that makes my day, when someone recognizes me as a guy.

When you transition from female to male [in the military], the difference for the [physical] tests is outrageous. So let’s say I were to max my pushups: For females in my age group, it’s 19 pushups in two minutes, it’s plenty of time. For a male, in order to just pass, it’s 40 pushups. For running, it’s a two-mile run and I’ve always hated running, I’m a terrible runner. If I want to get the max amount of points for the female PT test it’s 19:38, and to pass it for males it’s 16:36, so I’d have to run that much faster. But I don’t make excuses. Even though I’m still recognized as female, if you told me today I had to take the male PT test, I would do it and I would pass.

On family…

[Coming out to] family was extremely hard at first, because of the way my parents grew up. I’m Hispanic, and Hispanics can be very traditional sometimes. When my dad joined the Army he started off infantry, and that’s an entirely different culture that’s very intense. So it was a little rough at first. But now? I surprised my family last Father’s Day and no one messed up my name, no one messed up my pronoun. My dad was extremely happy to see me. When we go out to dinner and I’m wearing a suit — not a dress and makeup — they see me as their son. When my mom refers to me, I am their son.

Day 721 entering Week 103 of HRT. [LL] Happy New Year, and already behind! If you don’t know, every year I wear a new outfit for the new year, silly I know but it’s my tradition that I’ve held for several years now. I spent it with friends and family and surprising did not get super drunk. I learned how to play Magic and got my butt kicked by a 12 year old. She’s totally evil. I’ve already had a rough start but there’s nothing I can’t handle. Bring it on 2018.

A post shared by Zaneford (@17spark) on Jan 4, 2018 at 1:09pm PST

  When I heard about Trump’s tweet…

It was my day off … and I get a call from one of my bosses, a sergeant. I asked what was going on and she told me. … It really caught me off guard, because [Trump] was someone who prior to the election said, “I’m for the LGBT community.” He was literally holding the pride flag, and I don’t think he realizes how close-knit our community is and what that flag means to us.

So I was disappointed to hear there would be a ban. I come from a military family. I could potentially lose a career that is very important to me.

When I learned, back in June 2016, that the original transgender military ban had been lifted…

I was here in Germany. I remember following this for weeks … at the edge of my seat. On the day when [Obama] finally said yes for open trans service, I hung my trans flag up on my barrack windows for everybody to see, and it’s still up, next to my rainbow flag, so people see it all the time and ask me about it. I was so happy. I talked to all sorts of friends and family. I didn’t have to hide anymore. I didn’t have to pretend. It was an amazing day. I don’t know what will come of [the latest legal challenge], but I’m ready for whatever happens.

Read more from Yahoo Lifestyle:

White House Threatens to Shut Down Briefing Over Questions on Transgender Policy Shift

How Trump’s tweets ‘dehumanize’ transgender service members

Chelsea Manning Beauty exclusive: ‘This is an expression of my humanity’

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[brajeshupadhyay]

If it seems like everyone around us is reaching out for a shoulder to lean on in this time of the pandemic, then that need is urgent, desperate and acutely experienced when it comes to those marginalised by mainstream society. In speaking to members from the LGBTQ+ communities, it becomes evident that differences are further magnified within these communities. Factors like caste, class, creed and corporeal compositions which are already hurdles to accessing benefits in the mainstream become more crippling. And much like other support institutions battling to provide care and assistance, these LGBTQ+ safe spaces have been forced to go online as well. While there have been some fundamental changes engendered by this shift, there are other issues that have only become clearer. And addressing them will be the demanding hard work needed to ensure an equitable future for these groups, as well as our societies at large. For Good As You, the longest, continuously running LGBTQ support group, which has been around for more than 25 years, it was a no-brainer to move their physical weekly meetings to an online platform. “And it was immediately interesting to see who began coming for the meetings,” according to the openly gay Srinivas Muktha, a software engineer who volunteers with the group and has been actively attending its activities since 2005. “In the past, people would come for the meetings either through the route of counselling or accompanied by friends. With the newer members on these online meetings, there has been no such pattern. In fact, for a lot of them, it was their first time socially interacting with the community and not just for hook-ups as before. These new members are logging on from towns in coastal Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, and we have a few people attending from the North as well,” he points out. “In the before times, distance and commitment would be the common reasons behind the floating population at the weekly meetings, but presently, location and distance aren’t factors at all,” he adds. Another significant change that Srinivas has noticed has been the multiple languages being spoken on these online meetings. “There has always been an effort to translate any member who wants to speak in a language they are comfortable with at the meetings. In reality, English has become the default language. But with these online platforms, being able to simultaneously translate people through text in the chat window has changed this aspect,” he tells us. And people aren’t bothered at all because we’re so used to reading subtitles, he quips. “This has allowed people to speak up at these meetings even if it is their first time attending it. And language isn’t the barrier any longer,” he adds. This increase in attendance and need for conversation with others from the LGBTQ+ communities is also something witnessed by Rohini Malur, a communications manager, who is a founding member of All Sorts of Queer, a support group and safe space for all queer people who aren’t cis-men, which started in 2016. “We would do Wednesday Drinks as a weekly meetup before, but hardly anyone would show up. In these times, with an increasing sense of loneliness and helplessness, our weekly online meetings are very well attended,” she says. “For many of our members, who are women, non-binary and trans, it has been a difficult situation. Emotionally for sure, but even physically in some instances with being forced to move back with their birth families for different reasons. Either they’re ‘out’ but live with a disapproving family or they’re ‘not out’ and have had to suppress their desires and its expressions,” she explains. “Or it is harder because they’re living alone, we’ve had instances of members of the group moving in with each other to battle these feelings during the lockdowns,” she added. For the heterosexual community and cis-queer men – by and large – the home has always been the safe space. Therefore returning, rediscovering and refurbishing it has been their present preoccupation in this period of social distancing. This hasn’t been the case at all for members of the trans community, says Kanaga, a Chennai-based trans woman who has been volunteering for several years with a number of organisations working for transgender rights in Tamil Nadu, besides working as an IT consultant. While Kanaga notes the transition of safe spaces into online forums as a positive move, she does want to point out an oversight. “The problem within our larger community has always been one of access,” she stresses. “Who gets to use the terms ‘mental health’, ‘stress’, ‘self-care’? Who gets to access these new online avenues when these ‘safe spaces’ have always been trans-exclusionary? Who among us gets to have a ‘home’?” she asks. “There’s a subset of the community who still need these physical safe spaces. The trouble is for a majority of the trans community, the safe space cannot be converted into the digital forum. Among my own circle of friends and acquaintances in the community, I saw the way that they missed this year’s Pride March though it happened online. For them, they miss dressing up for cultural events and going wild during the March. They’ve had to keep it all together for an entire year and at these community gatherings, they just let it go. So for us, from the trans community, these drop-in centres, physical safe spaces and houses of our friends are very necessary still,” she explains. While in her own experience, Kanaga did seek out online spaces over a decade ago in a bid to be seen as she wanted to be seen, called by the names and pronouns she preferred, through working with her community she has also come to see the slippages that happen in this seemingly easy move to the online space. “In a community where personal space isn’t a given, it is already hard to access basic needs, and if one does access these digital forums, the ingrained trans-exclusionary nature of these spaces has made sure that the gatekeeping is done thoroughly so that only a few of us can even squeeze through,” she remarks. And in the instances where funds have been gathered to support these basic needs of the trans community, one trips over another hurdle. “An organisation I was volunteering with had received aid and had even transferred the money to each trans person's bank account. While most of them could go to a nearby ATM and withdraw the funds, some of them couldn’t. One of them was this disabled trans woman who couldn’t get any transport to gain access to the money because of the lockdowns. We managed to help her in this instance, but there’s always a little bit extra that can be done with regards to easing the lives of the marginalised communities, even the subset within a larger one,” she adds. This need for private space, paraphernalia and ‘poshness’ to reach out to online safe spaces for community and camaraderie has also been pointed out by another subset of the LGBTQ+ community – the trans men community. Gee Imaan Semmalar, a trans man, currently a PhD candidate at the University of Kent, is a member of the working group of Sampoorna, a dedicated group of trans and intersex Indians. Sampoorna began in the mid-90s and was founded by three trans men and a trans woman who helped each other with medical and legal information. In 2004, the listserv was set up to enable sharing of information within an expanding circle of trans and intersex people. It still exists as a goldmine of the history of early conversations between trans men – regarding medical transitions as well as the mundane,” he quickly adds. While Gee echoed Kanaga’s observations with regards to the issues of “safe spaces” and “accessibility” faced by the trans male and intersex communities, he was able to point out one of the ways they’ve overcome the literacy problem. “I’ve noticed a boom in WhatsApp groups populated with trans men, and I’ve even been added to a couple of them. The voice message feature has really allowed us to connect, care and crowd-source help for one another inspite of the distances. These groups communicate in different languages, allowing for ease in communication. I’m part of one with over a hundred trans men from Kerala,” he attests, pleasantly surprised. Gee points out that even with the shifts and new avatars that safe spaces are taking to tackle crises in the time of the pandemic, these might just be stop-gap solutions. There needs to be a more rigorous approach to this idea of safety itself. “The violence of the natal family still continues, one hears in the stories of the trans men stuck at home with their families that the violence has heightened, with them being forced to dress the way they don’t want to or constantly being nagged about marriage, and in these times they can’t even run away to someone’s house because there’s an understandable fear of exposure to the virus,” he says. He also notes that certain support systems had long stopped before the emergence of this global situation. “Shelter homes for the LGBTQ+ community have long been shut down, and there’s a marked decrease in neutral spaces that would have acted as half-way homes for those who need it,” he adds. “And there might be a serious need to even redefine the very idea of ‘safe space’ after all this time. Even the home has proven to be otherwise, as seen with the brutal murder of trans-activist Maria at her own home in Kollam district, Kerala,” he argues. Kanaga underscores this concern when she says, “It isn’t safety if it isn’t guaranteed for all of us and is in the service of just some of us.”

http://sansaartimes.blogspot.com/2020/08/how-covid-19-is-changing-queer-spaces.html