#cw gender essentialism

[chaosclover1999]

so general political fandom opinion that is also kinda emotionally charged 4 me that i don't think a lot of ppl will agree w me on:

while it's generally understood that "race-bending" a character can b politically insensitive in certain contexts, e.g. making the only character in a show that's a racial minority white, or making a character POC 4 clout ect

i feel like we as adults need 2 acknowledge that the same can b said of gender-bending characters

[important: there is a difference between gender-bending a character vs headcanon-ing them as trans, trans hcs r not what this is abt]

there's a very concerning trend i've noticed lately, where ppl will take a fandom ship that's a mlm ship and gender-bend it into a wlw ship, or even just make art of the mlm ship but in the description say "lesbians" or "yuri" and omg don't get me started on the ppl i c calling mlm ships "yuri yaoi" 2 indicate a non-toxic mlm "yaoi" ship

u guys need 2 come off of the gender essentialism kool aid, i rly need u 2 get this thru ur thick fucking skulls

being a man is morally neutral

being a woman is morally neutral

being a man does not make some1 inherently bad or abusive

being a woman does not make some1 inherently better or remove any toxic traits

it's exactly that kind of mentality, the idea that being a man is inherently wrong or evil or perverse in some way, that kept me and many other transmascs in the closet 4 way longer than we would've been otherwise, that leaves us fearing ourselves, what lies beneath the facade of false womanhood, that leaves us unequipped 2 deal w the concept of loving ourselves and accepting ourselves completely

trans men ARE men and not just when you want to malgender them

transmascs ARE masc and not just when you want 2 use our masculinity against us

transmascs who see ourselves as "man-adjacent" are still hurt when u say this shit abt us and abt men even if they r men in a way that's different from us

also, gay men (and probably also bi and other groups of men who love men but i can't speak 2 that personally) , who are often accessorised by straight women (c "gay best friend") often hav 2 deal w being seen as an accessory 2 straight women and being expected 2 make our entire existence revolve around straight women while at the same time our love is seen as inherently toxic, the "logic" usually goes smth like "well men r inherently abusive and there's 2 men so that must mean they r just abusing each other in a circle right?" which obviously isn't how that works bc not all men r abusive bc abusive behaviour is not smth inherent 2 being a man

im so sick of wanting 2 look at an mlm ship 2 try 2 remind myself that it's okay that im like this and that i am the way i am only 2 c the tag flooded w gender-bend fanart or ppl calling these gay men "lesbians" 2 indicate that they r older than 25 or 2 indicate that they think the ship isn't toxic or worse, they say that the original ship is toxic, don't explain y other than "man inherently abusive" and then make a gender-bend of the ship and act like it's them "fixing" it

i am not inherently abusive 4 being a gay guy

i am not inherently abusive 4 being transmasc and "man-adjacent" as i would put it

i also am noticing ppl putting words like "lesbaians" or "yuri" in the description when they make more chaste mlm ship fanart like of cuddling or hand holding which like.... ew.... way 2 piss off 2 communities at once ig

i wasn't 2 mad abt the gender-bends at 1st but then i started 2 notice a pattern and i had 2 say smth

istg if i c 1 more person make gender-bend fanart of an mlm ship w the description being "fixed it" or another fucking piece of fanart that is of 2 men being cuddly and chaste and neither of these men identity as also being women and the description is "lesbaians" or "yuri" i am going 2 fucking scream

tumblr users stop taking popular mlm ships and then flooding the tags 4 them w wlw gender-bend fanart versions of those ships at the very least make ur own tag 4 it like idk "fem![character]xfem![character]" or "fem![ship name]" it's not ok when u invade our mlm ship tags 2 tell us u think our love is toxic or that it would b better if we were women, ur literally just invading our online spaces where we go 2 feel safe 2 tell us u don't like us, and 4 some of us, 2 tell us that u wish we never transitioned

just 2 b clear im not talking abt cases here where the characters in question r nonbinary in a way that means that they see themselves as both men and women and so ppl call it "yuri yaoi" bc the characters r both men and women at the same time, that's a whole different thing of ppl just having some cool stuff going on w their gender and not at all what this post is abt, it's also smth tho that i hav not seen nearly as much as what this post is abt and also i don't hav any experience w being nonbinary in that way so im gonna leave that topic 4 some1 who has a better understanding of that shit than me

[cartoonscientist]

[hits vape] you know it’s interesting that two markers of masculinity in North America are wearing boxers and standing to urinate, since most cis men will attest to the fact that both briefs and sitting on the toilet are more convenient and comfortable. a lot of toxic masculinity involves pointlessly forgoing comfort for what are ultimately poorly justified aesthetic reasons. much like being in the position of holding physical power in a feudal system, those at the top levels of the patriarchy can never relax lest their laurels be wrest from them and they are thrown down the darkest oubliette of emasculation, to be not only a woman or a gay man, but a defective and impotent straight man. I think this is related to how the cis don’t use conditioner when they shower. are you recording this? come walk with me in the garden and we’ll continue this discussion.

Dan Cain, holding a craft beer called The Octopus’ Garden of Dagonian Delights in the chair opposite: you have to put your shoes back on to go outside herbert. that or take off your socks i guess

[shitposthalf]

I FEEL SO BAD

I watched the Barbie Movie and loved literally every second of it right up until the end.

(Scroll if you liked it to bits and don't want to hear criticism sorry)

(CW bioessentialism, CW gender essentialism)

(Spoilers under the cut)

Like

The end in Barbie World? Good. Funny, an excellent reversal of the roles and portrayal of how patriarchy is destructive and also how the Barbie run society reflects the real world patriarchy

But the end in the real world?

They were talking about how being a woman typically leads to specific social expectations and how its so shitty that it happens

Then turned around and did the same for when Barbie was "becoming human"

And I know the framing was intended as the progression of life and the inherent beauty in aging

But they only showed women, only showed mothers holding children (never fathers), like

Literally the scene would have been 10x better if instead of showing mother-daughter shots and only women, they showed ALL humans, showed how intrinsically linked we are are how the social norms mean nothing really and that humanity is beautiful without the need for gendered expectations.

THEY EVEN SET IT UP EARLIER WITH BARBIE LEARNING EMPATHY AND LOOKING AROUND AT EVERYONE IN THE PARK INCLUDING MEN AND WOMEN

But nooo

HELL, even if you wanted to take the woman only approach just more actively show other activities women could do. The best scene in it was the lady bowling and having fun!! But then it cut back to kids and it's like... I get what you were going for, but the way you framed it... it just. Argh I'm mad because it was so close to being executed well they just made the daughter-mother shots way too prominent in showing Barbie "being human"

And not to mention her seeing a gynaecologist at the end when seeing a doctor would have been just as impactful because like, that just showed Barbie properly breathing for the first time... having emotions and a heartbeat. Like I feel like after becoming human your first though wouldn't be "I need to see someone about my genitals!" It would be "holy shit I can breathe and my chest hurts and I have a throbbing sensation in my chest what is that???"

But yadda yadda I'm not the target audience I enjoyed the themes of motherhood and progression and growing up I just,, feel like it was a little bit bioessentialist when there was no reason for it especially when it went against the rest of the messaging in the movie

Idk maybe I'm overthinking it

Because I UNDERSTAND IT JUST... certain choices they made just detracted from their message even if it wasn't intended. I give them kudos for not intending it but... they framed it poorly

Its like seeing an art piece with a really good premise and concept but at last second they change the title and add a random colour that takes away from the whole mood of the piece

[biracy]

In general quite fascinating how "boys who liked bionicle are girls now" is called "gender essentialism" by like Radqueer Terfs DNI posters but "the thread of Girlhood Uterus Vulva Trauma connects all (cis) butches and trans men, so that's why I can reblog photos of trans men to my men dni blog in my #dyke tag" isn't. Lmao

[unhinged-transmasc-man]

I really do think that some trans people see the word “man” in trans man and their brain shuts off. Their brains go “Oh, man. Man privileged and bad. Men evil and oppressive. Therefore you, Man, equal evil and oppressive. I do not consider you a person now.” The usual acknowledgement of identities and nuance and lived experience they willingly apply to every other group flies out the fucking window. They are so blinded by gender essentialism they completely dehumanize trans men. They don’t know what to do with us in their simplistic bullshit radfem gender politics. Saying trans women are women doesn’t make you not a radfem, deconstructing bio/gender essentialism, and the belief that all masculinity and men/men-aligned/masculine people are inherently morally evil/oppressive/corruptive, and that all femininity and women/women-aligned-feminine people are inherently morally good/innocent/oppressed, THAT is what you have to do to not be a radfem, at the very least.

I am sick to death of non-trans men acting as if trans men never interrogate what it means to be a man. It is in the DEFINITION of being a trans man. We have thought about what it means to be a man more than anyone else (interestingly, trans women also have to grapple with manhood and masculinity in being raised with patriarchal expectations and realizing they don’t fit them and don’t identify with manhood). We build ourselves up from nothing (in terms of making the world acknowledge us as men instead of forcibly trapping as us “women”), we have to make our bodies match who we are, we have to figure out and be determined to be boys and men before anyone else knows we are. We are trans BECAUSE we are men. We have to figure out what being trans and what being a man means to us. Our sense of manhood and masculinity will always be rebellious (not by our own choice, but in the way any oppressed group is rebellious in existing). Trans men are inherently an anti-patriarchal concept. Obviously trans men can be misogynistic like anyone else, but the claim that transforming into a man is automatically misogynistic is radfem trash. The idea that identifying as a man suddenly erases experiences of misogyny is so inherently alien to the actual lived experience of all trans men that it can only come from people who do not interact with, care about, or view trans men as worthy of listening to, or even acknowledgment at all, or even just outright hate us for existing. Non trans men seem to legitimately think that putting on a binder will make cis people see us as men. That is not how it works, and the fact that I have to SAY THAT just shows the absolute miserable state of how rampant anti-trans man attitudes are (anti-transmasculinity more generally but specifically with trans men).

Trans men think about manhood a LOT. We think about it a lot, because manhood and masculinity are central to our identity in a way that is different from any other group of people. We are taking previous experiences and concepts, and re-framing and re-creating those concepts with what fits us. We have to completely construct both womanhood and manhood. It is also a different kind of thinking of being a man because we actually are the men in that situation, “the man” goes from being Other to Us. The complete disregard for our personal experiences, and the reliance on non-trans men and their endless parade of disgusting and bigoted options rather than US is very telling. Trans men have a unique perspective: manhood and masculinity, and the patriarchy (they are not the same thing) were likely traumatic for us, but our own masculinity and manhood are freeing and liberatory for us because we are trans, and because we are trans men. Obviously we don’t want to be what oppressed us, so our usual conclusion is to do masculinity and manhood in a different way. And yet is it so common for that to be turned against us, to assume that because we are trans men we must be willingly aligning ourselves with patriarchy without a second thought. But some trans people do not want to let us do a different form of masculinity, because they see all masculinity as inherently the same, equally oppressive, and evil.

We have a deeper understanding of misogyny and constructs of manhood than most people. We have a deeply profound awareness of how gender works, we live with it every day. Our perspective is critical for advancing any sort of gendered liberation of trans people, and to act like it isn’t, and to act as if only people who do not identify with manhood or masculinity have an inherently more valid perspective is gender essentialist nonsense. Gender is fluid and can be interpreted in many ways, the harmful ways of the patriarchy are not inherent in masculinity or femininity. Masculinity is not inherently oppressive, the patriarchy is. Of course people not allowed to be men who insist on our right to be men anyway think about our identities all the time. Far more than the people who make these nonsensical claims in the first place. Quite honestly, the only way to make this better (what we can do, because 1. It’s not our responsibility to make non-trans men not hate us and 2. Non trans men need to do their work in fixing their attitudes about us) is for trans men to use our voices and share our point of view. Anti-trans man and masc bigotry relies on silence and deliberate violent erasure, and it’s harder to do that if we never be quiet. Our identities are not morally wrong. We deserve to take up space.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Uh,if you guys are so fixated on 'Fem mc ends up with the edgy dude instead of the goody two shoes male protagonist' trope,where's all the hype around them exactly?

Or let me guess:You're gonna say they don't count because they aren't enemies to lovers or um Ackstually Hobie's an adult!!!(He's not,his age is up for interpreation as confirmed by the writers)as if y'all don't brag about loving age gaps or Hobie dosen't need to date anyone or you 'don't like their aesthetic'.Yeah,right-Y'all raved about Zuko/Katara and Bakugou/Ochako and Felix/Marinette and fucking Reylo but Gwen and Hobs are too healthy and an actual female fantasy that doubles as transfem and real interracial rep instead of steteotypical and racist bs.You guys are all about classic tropes until a black person is involved and then suddenly it's overdone or even 'gross' PLEASE you look like clowns who didn't go to your makeup lessons

[sercezgazety]

There are times when it’s quiet. There are entire days when the fighting is going on somewhere else, so far away that they can only hear an occasional sound of an explosion, but none of the screaming. There are other field hospitals, and Dan assumes the wounded are being taken care of by someone.

There are even days when there are no moaning patients. You know, Herbert informed him cheerfully after less than half a week here, at some point, you either get better or you just die. He even made a disgusted expression at that last part, as if dying was a sign of some personal failing, an embarrassing lack of self-discipline.

Three times, there was no one in the tent besides Dan and Herbert, and that meant each of them was able to take a proper shower. Alone and without anyone yelling at them for wasting the water. In theory, on days like these, Dan could sleep for five, hell, six hours uninterrupted, and the notion was so luxurious, it felt just a tad too decadent to some.

There’s absolutely no reason whatsoever why Dan would not cherish days like these, except, of course, for the fact that he shares them with Herbert West of all people. In close quarters, when there’s no way to hide in a bedroom and you don’t get to leave in order to commute, mere breathing proves more difficult than trying to stop people from going septic. West turns out to be obnoxious and omnipresent, and he almost never sleeps, though the reason for that is no secret.

Dan decides to pick his battles. As long as they’re here and someone should be alert at all times, he’s not trying to convince West to give up his habit. The reagent takes care of all of Herbert’s needs, and judging by the way he cries out when a dose hits, it’s not just sleep that is being substituted with a shot. The problem is, West is not as empathic and compassionate as Dan, and so, he rarely acknowledges that the other party still does need to sleep.

And fuck, Dan needs to. Really, really needs to, more than he needs to fuck, mostly because it’s easier to take care of that second necessity. In both cases, you don’t actually need assistance, even if sometimes assistance would make it more satisfying. You can have a depressing and thoroughly mediocre quickie with yourself, hidden behind the curtains in a makeshift toilet, but you can’t take a four hour nap in there. Dan’s already fallen asleep on the can once, his pants still on and all that, just because it was a bit more peaceful in there. It was gross, everyone was angry about it, and Dan can’t blame them. If one lands themselves in a field hospital and is told they’re finally entitled to take a dump like a civilized person, in a separate room just for that — even if the walls are made of blankets and there’s no running water in there — taking away that simple pleasure is a crime. Not the most serious crime Dan’s guilty of, alright, but still. When he gets dragged out of the toilet, still groggy but already terrified, it’s by the man out of whose guts he’s dug bullets less than a week ago. The guy’s in his right, let’s be honest, but Dan’s been awake for the past fifty hours, not counting the five minute power nap between an amputation and a burn victim. His cot is occupied by a patient, so he collapses on the grass just outside the tent, and he would have probably gotten some shut-eye, had a landmine not exploded somewhere else entirely and some time ago, which means the wounded are being brought in right now.

Dan’s leaves scissors in a guy’s stomach that day. Actually starts stitching the abdomen up before he notices them missing.

So yes, the days when there are no patients and no bombings are really nice. He likes those. Just… would have liked them even more if they were actual days off, days without West going on and on about The Work. Because that’s how he says it. You can hear the capital letters falling into place with reverence and piety Herbert reserves only for the insane shit he does.

When the number of wounded is manageable, Dan has his entire cot to himself, and that’s not all. The peaceful days are more likely to include Francesca dropping by and interviewing him. At least they used to. She stopped coming that often, maybe because there were absolutely no questions left to ask, but more probably because of Herbert. People tend to react to him in this manner, and frankly, it’s impressive, for how long Francesca managed to stick around despite West’s presence.

She would sometimes have a seat next to Dan and they’d talk about nothing. Listing foods they would eat when they finally get back to civilization, discussing the luxuries such as fresh bed linen or hot water, laughing at their shared misery. She has a nice laugh, and when told the sad tale of Herbert using the last of mint toothpaste — a proper, actual, flavored toothpaste Dan’s been saving for a special occasion — she makes an endearing snort. At times, Dan thought they might have had something going on. Francesca’s hands liked to linger around his whenever she’d pass him some item, and once, their fingers actually touched. She was no Meg, of course, but nobody is and nobody’s ever going to be. Dan does feel guilty about entertaining this kind of thoughts about any other girl, but he’s been stressed out of his mind. It’s only natural, and Francesca’s an objectively attractive woman. Nothing could happen anyway, Herbert possesses some kind of sixth sense that allowed him to appear out of thin air whenever Francesca stared smiling at Dan for longer than three seconds.

Herbert has absolutely no bloody boundaries, especially for someone who is declaratively a private person. Never liked people in his room, yes indeed-y, but somehow doesn’t mind butting into every conversation Dan might have, especially with women. And he’s always managing to bring up something amazingly unappealing, like necrosis, amputation, or gastrointestinal stomata. Catheterization, if Dan’s really lucky, but he rarely gets lucky nowadays. That’s already been established.

Herbert has this weird way or popping up unwanted, and interrupting conversations with Francesca is not the worst part. It would be really nice if that were the end of the problem, but it’s actually very much not. He’s so omnipresent, he materializes in Dan’s mind even at times when there ought to be solely pretty women in there. It’s bad enough that Dan feels guilty about those, but he felt even worse when thinking about Meg, and, well, he needs to think about someone. Otherwise, the exercise becomes impossible, and if he didn’t perform it, he’d go insane. But that someone should most definitely not be Herbert West, and the last thing Dan wants to think about when taking care of his frustrations is another guy. Granted, he does look like a woman a bit, petite and soft, but, first of all, it’s Herbert fucking West. He’s the farthest thing from soft imaginable, and second of all — which is even more important, actually — he’s most definitely not a girl. Dan’s seen him pee, it’s virtually impossible not to see each other pee in this hellhole. He didn’t look, but he’s pretty sure there was a dick involved, and he’d really prefer not to think about it, especially with his own in his hand.

It’s nothing to seriously worry about. Exposure does things like that from time to time. It’s just like when you constantly talk to someone and then you dream about continuing the argument. Or like when living in a house, or, or having a favorite vacation spot. You end up dreaming about that familiar space. It’s the default. All it actually means is that Dan’s been spending way too much time around Herbert. This much is obvious anyway, and he could really do without reminders such as these. Living with Herbert is already a nightmare, and Dan would prefer at least for his fantasies to remain his own, thank you very much.

Luckily, there’s always Francesca, and best part is, he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t mind. Probably. She seems open-minded enough. It’s a form of flattery after all, to think of someone that way. At least as long as there’s no West involved.

So yeah, things are not great, but it’s nothing Dan couldn’t deal with. They’re fine, and so is Dan, except he’s currently buried elbow-deep in another person’s guts, he’s pretty sure the guy’s not going to make it, and he’s like, seventeen. Nineteen, maybe, still has acne, and the remaining limbs are awkwardly long. Probably just learned how to shave and was very proud of it. Might have a girl waiting for him, though with skin like that, Dan’s not sure. He looked the same when he was the boy’s age, except he didn’t walk right into a landmine and didn’t have a missing leg and a, Jesus Christ. A gaping hole in his abdomen. Dan can’t keep up with the vessels that start hemorrhaging one after another, and they don’t even have the blood for transfusion, mostly because Dan spent over an hour yelling at Herbert when the ghoul proposed they drew blood from the terminal cases while their hearts were still beating and there was no clotting. And this guy’s so young, probably didn’t know what he was being killed for.

Shit. Shitshitshit, shit. Dan knows he’s not supposed to go there, he ought to peek at the readouts (what readouts, though, from what equipment? Here?) and look at every organ separately. Is it working, is it failing, how do we make it work? It’s not a person, not when you’re performing a surgery, and it’s not even about protecting the doctor’s psyche but the patient. A surgeon’s useless if their hands start to tremble, and especially when they slip in the gore covering the fucking floor and catch themselves at the last moment, dropping the spatula needle somewhere and spending precious seconds looking for it instead of grabbing a new one, even though the one that landed on the floor is no longer sterile and can’t be used anyway.

“Call it,” Herbert supplies, ever so helpfully, from the other table. He doesn’t even look in Dan’s direction. “He’s beyond saving and no use to us. And I need a hand with this one.”

Dan doesn’t call it, at least not for another ten minutes. The thing is, the boy could have been saved, had he been brought here sooner, had there been enough personnel, had Herbert not been busy with another—

Body. Herbert’s working on a body, suturing wounds of a soldier whose heart’s stopped beating at least half an hour ago. Dan knows that, he was there, he announced it. And now here he is with another dead soldier, but this one, this one didn’t have to die. This one still had a chance, however small, if only they had some blood, if only Herbert got his head out of his ass.

But he was of no use to us.

There’s a lot Dan could say at that moment, looking at the other man preparing a syringe and sticking his tongue out in concentration. He doesn’t, he rarely does. He ends up sitting on the floor with his head between his knees, trying very hard to avoid hurling because he’d be the one cleaning it up.

Then something goes wrong with the reanimation, because of course it does, and Dan’s already running towards Herbert, once again slipping on the tent floor wet with blood, grabbing the first thing he can find. Which happens to be a bone saw. And it’s not the worst weapon imaginable, perhaps, but before Dan manages to cut through the hand squeezing Herbert’s throat, the man’s already barely conscious. The corpse has much more energy, though, enough to throw Dan into a stack of crates and lunge for him before Dan remembers he actually has a gun. Had it the whole time.

So now there’s not only blood but also brain tissue on the floor, and soon enough, there’s also puke. At this point, it doesn’t really matter. Dan’s seen this before, he’s seen a dead hand wrap around a throat and squeeze, he’s seen the fingers refuse to let go even after the limb’s been severed, he’s seen it, it’s nothing new.

Herbert’s alright, for the most part. He starts moving on his own even before Dan’s able to break out of the stupor. Bastard’s indestructible. The good news is, his throat is bruised so badly, he can barely whisper, and that should buy Dan a couple of days of peace.

He starts the recorder nonetheless. It’s the first thing he does, the little horror show of a man. Tries to grate out something about the spinal cord before he starts coughing so hard he almost suffocates for the second time within a minute. Dan should probably get him some water, but for the moment, he can’t, too busy with his own puddle of misery. He ends up being given a hasty once-over by Herbert, who, in all probability, is the one actually in need of an examination.

Herbert does a terrible job anyway. They notice Dan’s sprained shoulder nearly half an hour later, not to mention Dan’s split eyebrow going untreated. But it’s the thought that counts, Dan supposes.

By the time he’s able to stop shaking — why? nothing too bad happened to him, why is he reacting this way? — and takes a look around, Herbert’s feverishly going through the pockets of the reanimate. Logical, and they should have thought about it earlier. If the guy was taking something that didn’t go well with the reagent, he might have carried it in his pocket. They need to make a note of it. Dan, however, is pretty sure it doesn’t apply either to a wristwatch, or to the roll of notes in foreign currency Herbert finds only after taking the man’s boot off.

Herbert’s movements are clumsy and Dan wouldn’t rule out shock or concussion, but even those don’t explain why West grins triumphantly at the finds, and they almost land in the pocket of his not-so-white coat. Almost, as he misses by mere inches, and drops the items right next to his foot. His lips form the word shit, but what escapes him is a pathetic gurgle, and he falls down to his knees in frustration, fumbling around, trying to retrieve the notes while they’re slowly turning more and more red.

This, at least, is a level at which Dan can meet Herbert, though not in the metaphorical sense. He crawls towards the insane imp, still unsure whether his legs would support him at the moment, and catches West’s wrist.

“Herbert,” he hisses. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

West gives him a deeply affronted look, and tries to yank his hand away to no avail. Dan can feel his fingers tighten around the oddly small wrist, sinking into the soft skin.

Herbert stops pulling away, and Dan should really relax his grip now. He knows it’s probably hurting. The bone structure feels fragile like a bird’s. Dan couldn’t break it just like that, with one hand, but cracking the ulna a bit shouldn’t be that hard. It’s just the matter of applying pressure in the right places, and Herbert’s way too weak to actually do anything about it.

Dan lets go of the hand as if burned, though Herbert, thankfully, assumes it’s for different reasons.

“Not like he’s going to have much use of it,” he whispers before he starts a coughing fit, and Dan would love to believe that there’s a note of, if not shame, at least embarrassment in those words. It could be a poor attempt at justification, if you squint. It really could. That’s the problem with West, you never know. There might be something human in there, and perhaps he is capable of feeling shame.

Even if that were the case, it doesn’t change the fact that the moment he stops wheezing, he resumes gathering the salvaged banknotes into an awkward stack.

“You’re kidding, right?” Dan asks, though he already knows the answer. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Herbert is very obviously not, as he proceeds to remove the other boot and the sock. There’s no more money in there. When he moves for the wedding ring on the corpse’s hand, Dan grabs his wrist again.

Herbert opens his mouth and croaks, then furrows his brows in frustration. With his free hand, he gestures to the equipment, the beakers and vials he uses for their side project. It’s not a side project to him; it’s everything else they do here that he probably considers an afterthought. Then, he gestures towards the corner where he keeps the damn iguanas in a crate. Dan’s no veterinarian, but he’s pretty sure no animal should be living in conditions like these. They’re not going to live for long, though. They’re not the first ones here, and Dan’s stopped giving Herbert’s specimens cute names long ago.

“Use your own money,” he says, as stern as he can manage. He still hasn’t let go of Herbert’s wrist, and he briefly wonders whether the hold is so slippery because his palms got sweaty just like when he held Meg’s hand for the first time. Then, he remembers they’re just covered in blood. Everything here is covered in blood, it reeks of it, with additional notes of puss, shit, and vomit. It’s hard to feel for the lizards when they themselves are cooped up in this pit without reprieve. “This belongs to his family.”

Herbert winces slightly, and that’s how Dan notices he’s dug his fingernails into the other man’s skin. He lets go and swallows the urge to apologize because there’s no space for concessions. You give Herbert a finger, he’ll burn a house down.

Still, he feels bad about that. Herbert bruises extremely easily, and it’s like beating up the kid with glasses after gym. Dan’s always been the one to jump in and defend said kid from bullies, and he’s not sure what changed. He doesn’t like what he’s turning into when he’s around West, and maybe it’s the guilt, or maybe it’s the red mark on the other man’s wrist and the crescent almost-punctures, but eventually, they take the money.

The wedding ring stays on, so it’s a nice compromise.

Herbert only agreed to that because he must have noticed the ring was made of copper, Dan realizes later on. There’s also that suspicious liver on ice that he doesn’t remember being there before. But it’s far too late to go back on the deal, the purple handprint on Herbert’s wrist almost matches the one on his neck, and Dan stays quiet.

read the rest of the chapter here as things continue to get more awkward

(each chapter can work as a standalone)

[moonsun2010]

some highlights from 3 October's entry:

Top left: "With his left hand he held both Mrs. Harker's hands, keeping them away with her arms at full tension; his right hand gripped her by the back of the neck, forcing her face down on his bosom. Her white nightdress was smeared with blood, and a thin stream trickled down the man's bare breast which was shown by his torn-open dress."

Top right: "Her face was ghastly, with a pallor which was accentuated by the blood which smeared her lips and cheeks and chin; from her throat trickled a thin stream of blood; her eyes were mad with terror. Then she put before her face her poor crushed hands... and from behind them came a low desolate wail".

Bottom left: "She shuddered and was silent, holding down her head on her husband's breast. When she raised it, his white night-robe was stained with blood where her lips had touched, and where the thin open wound in her neck had sent forth drops."

and

"Harker was still and quiet; but over his face, as the awful narrative went on, came a grey look which deepened and deepened in the morning light, till when the first red streak of the coming dawn shot up, the flesh stood darkly out against the whitening hair."

Bottom right: ""Hush! there is someone in the corridor!" I got up softly, and crossing the room, gently opened the door.

Just outside, stretched on a mattress, lay Mr. Morris, wide awake."

[badpoliticaltakes]

A woman is a human with xx chromosomes. The argument "a woman is anyone who identifies as a woman" doesn't awnser what a woman is, "a woman is a woman" is circular. If you can't even define what you're fighting for, you don't know what you're fighting for.

3/10 on the rage scale bc this would make me angry if this take didn't exist. literally everywhere.

[dyspunktional-leviathan]

If your masc women characters necessarily need to be tall literally fuck you

[samaspic31]

I don't understand how globally most of fandom has understood giving head wasn't a bottom or a sub thing (to the point where it's rare for me to find fics where it's even implied, and I've only had only one where it's the case it was addressed clearly as a sign o internalized homophobia ) but bottoming? Still considered by so many fucking writers that it's obviously the sexual role of the least traditionally masculine partner (who always gets headcanoned as trans more) and all the gender essentialist and sexist assumptions of submissiveness that goes with line of thought

Like you guys know that's the same rhetoric right. You know you guys sound like DJ Khaled right. You know switches are a thing right. Please tell me you know that. Please tell me you've done the most basic research about irl queer sexuality before you write about it

[chaosclover1999]

honestly kinda fucked up how u guys think a guy has 2 b beefy and strong 2 b a himbo and if he's not beefy he doesn't exist 2 u, like its only 4 himbos also, i havent seen any1 say that u need 2 b a specific body type 2 b a thembo or herbo but as soon as it's some1 who uses he/him he only matters 2 b conventionally attractive 2 straight women like wtf, it's honestly just weirdly sexist and ableist,,,, like the whole point of himbos and the overall reclamation of being a kind dumbass in general is 2 make it so its not like how the old idea of it was when the word bimbo was used as an insult which is like the idea that "oh well she's dumb but at least she makes up 4 it by being conventionally attractive 2 straight men" it's literally just the same thing but u guys r acting like its ok 4 some reason bc instead of it being abt ppl who use she/her pronouns its abt ppl who use he/him pronouns but its not ok and especially w/ how some ppl talk abt it it just kinda furthers this idea that some ppl hav that men r all either women's oppressors or eye candy 4 straight women, also the way some of u straight women talk abt wanting a himbo boyfriend and y u want a himbo boyfriend,,,, i rly hope u never hav a boyfriend who has an intellectual disability bc it sounds like u just want 2 control men who have intellectual disabilities and it's rly weird and ableist and exploitative,,,, like ur literally talking abt wanting a guy w/ an intellectual disability who's also a beefcake that u can control and manipulate into doing whatever u want him 2 and it's honestly legit fucking scary, men should b able 2 hav intellectual disabilities or just b dumb w/out feeling like they owe straight women or any1 conventional attractiveness and w/out having 2 worry that some1 is gonna take advantage of them not being smart, dumbass men should get 2 call themselves himbos if they want w/out having an identity crisis abt it, w/out being sexualised and objectified and w/out having 2 worry that doing so is gonna put them at risk

--sincerely, a dumbass transfag who has a dissociative disorder, psychosis and is unsure if the fact that those things effect my ability to think counts as an intellectual disability or if that would be me using that term wrong, also if you're upset about me, a trans gay guy, calling myself a transfag then my blog probably isn't for you

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Ghosted

Male Jock Yandere Ghost x Gender Neutral Nerd Ghost Reader

CW: Reader death, ghosts, spirit world, manipulative yandere, stalking, general yandere behavior, consensual sex

Word Count: 801

(Trying to get back into the habit of writing, this is the result, hope you like it! I consider a demented ghost as still being a monster and therefore still teratophilia.)

You had died in college. One moment, you were being your nerdy self, rummaging through your binder, and the next, you were on the ground. You didn't really remember much, all very fuzzy. Was it a stroke? A brain aneurysm? You had no idea.

Once you were brain dead, though, you stepped from your body and appeared on the ghostly plane. A fog filled realm that somewhat mirrored the world of the living. Though spirits could make alterations, there were spaces untouched by the activities of the still living. 

There were a lot of ghosts. Many of them wandered aimlessly or were stuck in a loop of denial, acting out behaviors as if they were still alive. Others lashed aggressively, unable to regain their grip on their sanity. 

You mostly kept to yourself. Like Jonesy taught you. He was a former jock about your age when he died in the late 80s. He still wore his letterman jacket. You weren't limited to the clothes you died in, but you figured it was a symbol of how he was still attached to his old life.

Jonesy had taught you a lot of things. He had pretty much been your mentor since you had died. He was there waiting when you passed. He said he had sensed someone might die as he was wandering the halls of the college, where he had also died years ago. 

Jonesy said he was stuck in a loop. Being alone had made him lose his mental stability. But when he sensed you were about to die, it snapped him out of it. He said you saved him, so he wanted to get to know you and help you navigate the land of the dead. 

Plus, being together would help prevent the two of you from getting mentally frail. 

It was a bit of a paradox. Jonesy taught you to avoid most spirits, but communication and relationships were essential to staying sane. 

"You just have to know the right types to befriend. Many of the people here have a darkness in them and can drag you down if you're not careful."

He also told you the other secret to remaining stable. 

"You have to keep busy, do stuff. Don't get too bored."

There was a surprising amount you could do as a ghost. You could go to stores and yoink whatever you wanted, eat whatever you wanted, play video games, there was even a ghost version of the internet! 

Getting infinite free popcorn at the movies was your favorite thing. Jonesy always did that lame pretend yawn thing that ended with his arm wrapped around you. It was nice, though. Made you feel safe. You had been touch starved in life.

The transition to him being your boyfriend was so seemless and natural that you barely noticed that it had happened. You had never stopped any of his advances. Cuddling you, holding you, and smooching your cheek.

You didn't even question it when chaste kisses led to him kissing you hungrily before carefully taking off your clothing, like he was removing the wrapping from something delicate. 

Soon you found yourself laying ass up on his bed with him pounding into you, drinking in all your lusty moans and unabashed calling of his name.

He gripped your hips firmly as he came deeply into you; the pleasure made you see stars. His girthy cock stretched you wonderfully. You felt so lucky and special that this jock spirit had taken an interest in you, a lowly nerd.

Jonesy felt lucky too. He hadn't been in a loop. For a year before your death, he had been haunting you, It was difficult to peek into the living world, but once he found you, he was addicted. 

He loved watching you read books, study, and watch anime. He especially loved watching you shower, fervently jerking hinself off as he did so. 

It wasn't enough though. He needed to have you with him! You had been so perfect for him. You were kindred souls in a way. You were always alone and starved for attention. You'd fall for his affections easily, and you wouldn't just crossover beyond the purgatory the two of you were now in, you were too depressed for that.

Influencing people who were still alive was nearly impossible, but decades of being alone had made Jonesy angry and bitter. He used those emotions as fuel and tried many times to trip you down the stairs or get you to stroll into traffic absentmindedly. Finally, the jock was successful in busting something in your head.

At long last, you were with him. As he held you tightly, after making love several more times, he knew he'd be able to keep you there forever and he'd never have to be alone again. 

[inazuma-fulgur]

Hey anon

I know you asked this on a terf blog and probably are a terf yourself, not at all interested in what I have to say

But trans people, non-binary people and especially "non monosexuals" are at least partly gonna be attracted to same gender and/or same sex

Like fr okay you're a transphobe. But you hate bi and pan and multi people? Because they can't like women in a genuine way since they like men or enbies or what?

And with the asexuals, yeah it's pretty common for us not to be attracted to others. That's kinda our thing (not to make gray and demi aces invisible. I love you)

[theamberfist]

Susan Repellant | Alastor + Gen Z! Reader HC's

Platonic! Alastor with a Gen Z! Reader

Description: Alastor avoided you at first, but when he found out your mere presence was enough to keep Susan away, he quickly changed his tune.

Notes: (CW Alastor, Susan) (gender neutral reader) (mentions of cannibalism) (Gen Z Reader)

Words: 1,005

♡ No one knows how or why you ended up hell; just that you're here now. You're pretty new, and you don't talk about your backstory much

♡ They also have no idea how you ended up at the hotel. One day you just appeared and everyone kind of accepted it; especially because Charlie saw a lot of potential for redemption with a younger sinner

♡ It quickly became apparent that you were the most Gen Z to ever Gen Z

♡ Your slang, style of dress, and mannerisms really showed it, and at first Alastor avoided you for this reason

♡ He would never admit it, being the great and powerful Radio Demon, but he was terrified of you because he could never understand what the fuck you were saying and doing

♡ Also you seemed weirdly unafraid of him???

♡ Eventually, he came to attribute it to the fact that you had zero sense of self preservation. You once told him "if you killed me I would just respawn like a video game character" and because he doesn't know what that means, he's vowed to never do so and find out

♡ Charlie took notice of the fact that Alastor always avoided you. When you were in the lobby, he suddenly had an extremely important errand to run elsewhere. When you tried to talk to him, he was suddenly melting away into the shadows. When you were out of the hotel for the day, he seemed significantly more relaxed

♡ She, however, attributed this avoidance to him and you not getting along. So, she started creating situations to force Alastor to interact with you

♡ You didn't seem to care but he sure did

♡ Once, he was heading to Cannibal Town to go see Rosie for the day and just as he was halfway out the door, Charlie pulled you over and shoved you at him; suggesting he bring you with since you hadn't left the hotel (or your hotel room, for that matter) in several days. With that, she slammed the door behind you

♡ Alastor begrudgingly brought you with him, but refused to walk on the same side of the street as you. He remained a ways behind you and on the opposite side, claiming he "simply could not be seen with weaker sinners in public." In reality, he was too afraid to get near you and refused to give you the advantage of being behind him where he couldn't see you

♡ Finally, you got to Cannibal Town, where Alastor basically turned you lose and then went to rant to Rosie about how he'd had to bring you along

♡ She found his fear of you very funny and couldn't really relate to his fear because I think she's a lot more with the times than him. They had some tea and cannibal cakes together, but halfway through their conversation, there was a commotion outside that prompted both Alastor and Rosie to stand up and go check it out

♡ There, they saw you in the middle of the town, facing off against Susan with the rest of the cannibals crowded around you both in a circle

♡ You were both essentially tossing insults back and forth. She would comment about your 'distasteful' style of dress and you would simply reply with "okay, boomer" or something along the lines. She, like Alastor, had no idea what any of your slang meant and seemed to feel just as threatened by it

♡ Finally, Susan made an extra nasty comment about you and you started coming towards her, rolling up your sleeves and asking a nearby cannibal to 'hold your earrings'

♡ Susan immediately scrambled back before you could reach her, and that was when Alastor realized he might be able to use this dynamic to his advantage

♡ Rosie ended up breaking you both up, and you and Alastor left Cannibal Town soon after. It seemed like he'd now gotten over his own initial fear of you, because he came right up and walked beside you down the street, asking how you felt about the old woman

♡ When you told him you and Susan now had "serious beef" (which he assumed was a negative thing), he knew something very beautiful could be born from this awful day

♡ After that, Alastor stopped avoiding you. He was still cautious, but he would interact with you enough to maintain at least a neutral relationship

♡ In Alastor's eyes, you were akin to a feral cat. He mostly left you alone unless you approached him first, but would occasionally bring you small trinkets or gifts he thought you'd like as a way to maintain peace

♡ Think you sitting casually on the couch and Alastor approaches with a gift in hand, carefully extending it to you with one hand while keeping the rest of his body as far back as physically possible. When you can't reach what he's trying to give you, he just tosses it at your feet and runs

♡ Now, though, Alastor can walk through Cannibal Town with no fear of possibly running into an ornery old bitch. Why? Because (scary dog privileges) he has his own personal Susan repellant

♡ Whenever you're nearby, Susan stays as far away form you as possible. When she does come near, the two of you start beefing and she ignores Alastor anyway, which is also a win for him

♡ He refuses to visit Cannibal Town without you in tow now, and though he's still a little scared of you, Susan is even more so

♡ Meanwhile, Charlie is super confused and has no idea how you two managed to start getting along so fast, but she's glad you don't seem to hate each other anymore. She's even more happy when Alastor insists on bringing you with him every time he goes to see Rosie; thinking you're finally becoming friends

♡ In reality, he just doesn't want to deal with any mean old ladies, and you seem more than happy to throw hands with Susan in his place

♡ So in the end, it works out for both of you

[punkeropercyjackson]

Spy x Family as a love story is fine i guess but you can NOT call it a queer one.It's litetally about a man and a woman who'd never met before having to pretend to be a nuclear family and falling in love in the process with a heavy emphasis on their genders and Yor is always way more meek than Loid when she's an entire assassin and also has a romance between two six years old that started with one of them punching the other then refusing to apologize and crying when she finally did and that got him to like her because she looked cute while sobbing,c'mon now you're all just lying at this point