100 trans/genderqueer musicians
Bands
Against Me! (rock, folk punk) (x)
The Oozes (punk) (x)
The Hirs Collective (metal, grindcore) (x)
GEL (hardcore punk) (x)
Urn (hardcore punk) (x)
The Black Dresses (noise pop, hardcore hyperpop) (x)
Party Ghost (rock) (x)
Lagrimas (hardcore punk, scream punk) (x)
Doll Skin (rock) (x)
Dazey and the Scouts (rock, indie) (x)
G.L.O.S.S. (hardcore punk) (x)
Dog Park Dissidents (punk rock) (x)
She/Her/hers (rock) (x)
Deli Girls (hardcore electronic) (x)
Dream Nails (punk rock) (x)
Sarah and the Safe Word (rock, dark cabaret) (x)
Pinkie Promise (punk rock) (x)
B. Fraser (emo) (x)
Newgrounds Death Rugby (emo) (x)
Scowl (hardcore punk) (x)
Feminazgul (black metal) (x)
Sports Bra (dream pop, light rock) (x)
Club Sofa (indie pop) (x)
The Cost ov Living (grindcore, harsh noise) (x)
Kuromy (punk) (x)
The Sonder Bombs (indie, pop) (x)
Lidocaine (rock) (x)
I'm letting unseen forces take the wheel (cybergrind) (x)
Gum Disease (punk) (x)
Cam Girl (rock, trash rock) (x)
Gully Boys (grunge pop) (x)
Arcadia Grey (sparkle punk) (x)
Schmekel (folk punk) (x)
Destructo Disk (punk rock) (x)
User Unauthorized (hardcore punk) (x)
The Spook School (indie pop) (x)
Pinkshift (emo) (x)
Glass Beach (emo) (x)
Butch Baby (light rock) (x)
VIAL (indie punk) (x)
Sister Wife Sex Strike (folk punk) (x)
homewrecker. (metal, hardcore punk) (x)
Mega Mango (indie rock) (x)
Keep For Cheap (prarie rock) (x)
Steam Powered Giraffe (cabaret, steampunk) (x)
Thotcrime (grindcore, cybergrind) (x)
Whirlybird (indie pop) (x)
Kampsport (hardcore punk) (x)
Um Jennifer? (alt-rock, punk) (x)
Scarlet Demore (alt-rock) (x)
HappyHappy (folk, folk-punk) (x)
Queen Zee (punk) (x)
Grumpy Plum (slop pop) (x)
Cheap Perfume (punk) (x)
Pollyanna (power-pop, rock) (x)
Ballista (metalcore) (x)
Faetooth (fairy doom, metal) (x)
Lacerated (death metal) (x)
Fortuna Malvada (hardcore punk) (x)
Peach Rings (bedroom power-pop) (x)
Solo Artists
Laura Jane Grace (rock, folk punk) (x)
Left at London (pop) (x)
ZAND (pop, ugly pop) (x)
Ada Rook (hardcore electronic) (x)
Ms. White (pop) (x)
Rett Madison (indie, folk) (x)
Murder Person for Hire (folk) (x)
Backxwash (rap, industrial hip hop) (x)
LustSickPuppy (electronic, rap) (x)
Babylungs (electronic, rap) (x)
Human Kitten (folk punk) (x)
Harley Poe (folk punk) (x)
Ewy (emo, folk punk) (x)
Averstaskta (instrumental) (x)
Andie Schoen (indie) (x)
Elliot Lee (dark pop, electronic rock) (x)
Urias (hip hop, ballroom) (x)
Twink Obliterator* (cybergrind) (x)
Rio Romeo (cabaret punk, indie) (x)
Knife Girl (art pop, indie) (x)
Alexander James Adams (folk) (x)
Starmaxx (pop) (x)
Sofya Wang (pop, alt-R&B) (x)
Boy Jr (indie/alt pop) (x)
Medusa (revenge pop, hip-hop) (x)
Mal Blum (singer-songwriter, folk) (x)
Gina Young (riot grrrl) (x)
Petra Fiyd (indie pop) (x)
awfultune (bedroom pop) (x)
Quinn Hills (alternative pop) (x)
Femtanyl (electronic) (x)
Vivivivivi (electronic, glitchcore) (x)
Lilac Boy (glitchcore) (x)
Rosie Tucker (indie rock) (x)
Ryan Cassata (singer-songwriter) (x)
Pain Chain (noise, synth) (x)
In Love With A Ghost (electronic, lo-fi) (x)
Alice Longyu Gao (hyperpop) (x)
Prophetic Nightmares (ambient synthwave) (x)
Saint Wellesley (indie folk) (x)
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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ghost getting himself a cute, soft girl he doesn't talk about much but is clearly obsessed with and price just thinks it's nice he's finally settled down, approves of the home he's made for himself, definitely approves of the one he's taken for himself.
soap asks kyle if he's seen you and he says, "yep. lovely bird he's got tucked away in her little dollhouse. makes great food, too." soap swears there's a subtle shift in his tone when he says "lovely", a hint of something deeper that flickers in his eyes for just a moment. soap simply sucks on his teeth, letting it slide. (although he knows that kyle's always been one to appreciate the good things in life.)
interest gnaws at him, a persistent itch he can't scratch. price likes you just fine, as does kyle. well what about him? he decides to bite the bullet and goes to simon with a knot between his brows, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. they've shared clothes, bullets, beds. if the other two got to meet you, why can't he?
"ya can come over for dinner on tonight. she'd 'ave my neck if she didn't formally meet ya anyway."
soap then asks, out of genuine curiosity more than anything else, if simon would have kept you in the dark from him hadn't he brought you up himself.
"ya meet 'er when i want ya to, boy, and not a moment before." the tone he takes is unmistakeable. his words are a command, not a suggestion, and soap instantly knows to not push further.
soap nods. "ah'll be there."
"course ya will. she'd be terribly disappointed otherwise."
yeah, he'd hate to have that.
soap sits in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the cozy place. with a full stomach and an unfastened belt, nursing a glass of kentucky. he can't remember the last time he ate that well or that much.
maybe it's the alcohol that loosens his tongue, or the fact that he wishes he also had a sweet little thing to keep at his side just like simon's doing with you now, but the thoughts he's been mulling over all evening since he first saw you tumble out of his mouth.
"while ah can attest to yer taste in sweethearts, can't say much about your alcohol. bourbon, LT?" he says, chest warm.
simon's arm tightens around your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh. he shrugs, completely unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "can't be perfect in everythin', can we, sergeant?"
soap's cheeks burn furiously hot when you come to his defense with a smack of your palm onto simon's chest. "be nice to johnny. he's got a face that make up for some of his other flaws."
the teasing lilt in your voice unashamedly gets his southern blood pumping. he can't help it if certain things stir when someone as pretty as you look at him like that. soap swirls the amber liquid gently in the glass while keeping his limpid eyes on you, not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze hasn't wavered since your cheeky little comment.
you then whisper something in simon's ear, your cupped hand not even half the size of his head and soap has to rearrange himself from the outside when your teeth catch your bottom lip. simon looks up at you then, eyes heavy and half lidded, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.
"'m not sure, love. you'll just 'ave to ask 'im yourself. go on."
you open that sweet mouth of yours, but simon cuts you off with a decisive wave of his hand. "no. you know how to ask for things."
your reaction to that is visceral, and you're on your knees faster than his alcohol-muddled brain can comprehend. don't look down 'er shirt, don't look down 'er shirt, don't-
"johnny, will you touch my pussy?"
he splutters at your question, completely taken aback, but it seems you're not done just yet.
"hands to yourself, sergeant. tha' not all."
you pout at simon, one that earns you a look that promises consequence, but do as he says.
"will you touch my pussy, johnny? pretty please?"
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