#i just had the kill all faggots

[hedjblogr]

op doesn't believe ADHD is real without capitalism and yet managed that absolute word salad that reads like my ADHD ramblings

anyway yeah this post is stupid, the representation still matters BECAUSE of the other shit, and ngl I agree it's hilarious people would tag for queer when faggots is right there that's like the singular good point in this post.

We're entering an era where you go on Netflix and watch a cartoon toucan sing a song about nonbinary identity and then the autoplay puts on Dave Chappelle's Kill All Faggots Comedy Special. When you're done with that you can go to Target and buy a coffee mug that says "they/them" on it and if you go in the wrong bathroom the store manager is legally required to kill you. So like can we dispense with the notion that queer media representation has any correlation with how things are in the real world for anyone, or that it means literally anything at all?

[dj-of-the-coven]

trigun 1998 episode simulator

[3 minutes of guitar solo]

Vash the Stampede: hi my name is Vash the Stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love. all I really want to do is have a sandwich and a morning coffee without getting chased by bandits

some bandit: (gunshot) absolutely not. square up faggot

Vash: rats.

[gunfight]

Vash the Stampede: my name is Vash the stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love.could I please have a sandwich

Meryl from the Bernardelli Insurace Society: how long are you going to sit on your ass doing nothing but playing games with children and doing chores for the elderly and disabled and looking after lonely youths and cooking dinner for the homeless

Vash: I've been here for like 2 days

Milly Thompson: Hi Vash!

Vash: Hi Milly

[exit left pursued by bounty hunters]

Vash the Stampede: (panting, entering a bar) my name is Vash the stampede.... I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Good L*rd what is going on in here

Hostage: mphdsfhapff!!!! mffmpphhf!!!!

Villain of the week: well if it isn't the elusive Vash the Stampede! you see it all started when I was 4 days old and you kicked me like a football and then exploded my parents to death with a laser canon and killed every puppy in a ten ile (translator's note: this is the No Man's Land equivalent of the American Mile) radius

Vash: I don't remember doing that but well I suppose you can shoot me if it'll make you feel better

Side character of the week: Are you insane? Just shoot him instead???

Vash: but my mom told me not to be mean to people

Villain of the week: (still going) And as I am now 47 years old I have finally decided to get my revenge. Say your prayers, Vash the Pisshead

[Wall explodes and reveals a motorcycle with a sexy priest on it]

[sfx: guitar with a hint of electric distortion]

Vash: is that..... Wolfwood?

Meryl who was in the background this whole time: the priest?

Nicholas Dickolas Wolfwood: (brings his fingers up to a pair of luscious lips to grab the cigarette from right between them, taking one more slow inhale before crushing the cherry red underneath his heel)(sensually cocks one of his 8 guns) Are you just gonna let this guy talk down to you like that needle noggin?

Vash: I g-

[guitar riff bumper]

[guitar riff bumper]

Vash: -uess not, since you're here to help now... (slow, warm smile) Wolfwood

Nicholas D. ranged Wolfwood: Vash

Milly who was also in the background this whole time: Hi mr priest man! isn't this lovely, I haven't seen you since the last time you spoke with mr Vash yesterday evening when you were helping him buckle all those silly belts on his pants after he had lost them somehow

Vash: On a cactus

Milly: On a cactus! Oh it must've hurt so terribly; how fortunate that Mr Priest man was there to help you

Wolfwood: Hi Milly

[gunfight]

Villain of the week: ohhhhh curses!!! CURSES!!!! I have spent my whole existence getting ready to fight Vash the Stampede but he's just too good at swallowing all my bullets!!!!!!

Vash the Stampede: my tragic dead mother would be sad if I didn't swallow everyone's bullets so I've trained diligently every morning at digesting gunpowder without dying immediately

Wolfwood: [internally: I can't believe it. All this time I've spent walking the path of darkness, reaching to a pure light that I could never grasp, and yet here is a man who's dedicated his life and his body to the pursuit of Peace. I wish he were a woman so I could fuck him romantic style. I've got a whole plan for it and everything. Whiskey, sunset, a bed with no sand in it, 6 hours. This would be fully and completely possible if only he were a woman. Unfortunately he's not, but I can still think about the what-ifs. platonically of course. Maybe if he got some good dick he'd stop being so annoying. And maybe he'd stop making me rethink my morals. I wonder if the seven drunken handies meant anything to him. Platonically]

Wolfwood: Well anyway it looks like my job is done here

Vash: (teary) Will I see you again?

Wolfwood: I don't know. And besides, whenever I look at you, I'm reminded of everything I hate about myself. You know, it hurts.

[exit Nicholas D. Wolfwood pursued by repressed homosexual desires and immense catholic guilt]

Vash the Stanned Peat: (looking out the window like a widow whose husband was killed in action) Nicholas... D... Wolfwood.......

Meryl who was in the background that entire time, yes, the whole time: shut the fuck up already

Vash: when will it be my turn Meryl. When

[roll credits]

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for deceiving a psychiatrist with lies to get diagnosed with a psychological disorder so i could get attendance accommodations at school where it was really nazi strict and evil forced attendance and they would fail me for not going to class EVEN THO I DID EVERYTHING TO THE TOPS?????? Sick fucks tbh. May those “educators” burn in torment💖 i wasn’t allowed to have my anxiety/agoraphobia/aversion/truancy/YOUTHFUN absences excused bc of the fasc policies in place as a standard in our christofascist bluemaga joe biden hillary fucked bernie in the ass dry clinton fake woke coopting bullshit society. so because of their nazi policy i had to find a way to get accommodation bc clearly i couldnt be in class every day in a row and needed leniency, not academo nazi policy, i was like. Fuck it let me get my papers for that accommodations letter approval. Bc like i had already been going to the counselors for stress and general social bullshit So since i wasn’t allowed to use that for accommodation i hd to make sooo many months long appointments w this far af psych and i didnt have a car and what an added stress. They were like “we dont got a car to pick you up like a normal fucking doctors place. Take the bus!” Ok die first. Next fucking help me!!! I did the meds they really sucked bc i guess i didnt need it and it was all side effects, no benefits, and i was like FUCKING DIAGNOSE ME!!! after reading the DSM5 and “practicing whats wrong w me” so that they are like . Hm yeah that sounds bad. Then IN THE END IT WAS A FUCKING PERSONALITY INVENTORY THEY USED TO ASSESS MY ILLNESS. IT WAS A BAR GRAPH. It was bullshit service in the goddamn american healthcare system and then bullshit actual healthcare bc it was fucking fake. Dumb psych couldnt even tell i wasn a liar???? DUMBASS BITCH LOSER FAGGOT CUNT SCUM. I remember how they made me wait AND CHARGED ME WHEN I MISSED AN APP BC IT WAS SO FCKN FAR AND ANOTHER BC I TOOK A NAP. CHARGING UR POOR MENTALLY ILL CUSTOMERS??? They can explode forreal💖and so can the dumb school policy bitches who couldnt just let me get my A had to be like ohhh cant accomodate u even tho u hve a 98 u are gonna fail :/ DIE ON FIRE SCREAMING YOU SCUM BITCH!!!! <-me to that professor nazi. May she be tortured. ANNMYWAY im sorry to everyone who’s gone thru academic ableism and abuse by this bullshit system!!!!! my school ended up being transphobic and zionist so i transfered anyway bc i dont want that bullshit on my titles. I’m glad i got my classes accomodated tho! I only wonder if im legally beholden to that diagnosis or if we can just be like fuck that doctor. Hm. Like i lied 😂 ffbsjfbsjfbjsnfjekfnsjs FREE ATTENDANCEE THOOOOOOOOOO it should be like that always for everyone. Kill every nazi teacher forreal. And kill teachers who dont give free B’s. Fuck your grade curve bitch. Fuck your admin. FUCK IT ALL!!!!! And i know its possible bc ive had actually good teachers. Hmmm the nazis WISH they could hide!!!

[fattystoriez]

Preston’s 18th Birthday Pt.2

Content Warning: Homophobic Slurs, Forced Weight Gain

The truck pulled into the driveway of the house Preston once called home. The suburban front lawn, perfectly trimmed and pristine, was a far cry from the trailer park slum they had just left. But something inside Preston had changed—he didn’t see this place the same way anymore. It felt sterile, clean to the point of being suffocating. He couldn’t wait to see how his daddies would look rolling around in filth.

“Alright, boy. Time to split up,” Travis rumbled as he killed the engine. His deep Southern drawl oozed with pride as he smacked Preston’s fat jiggly belly. "I’ll take care of one faggot, you take the other.”

Preston nodded as they exited the truck, his bloated body spilling out of his too-tight gym shorts and stained t-shirt. His skin glistened with sweat from the short walk to the house, but he didn’t care—he liked the feeling now. The stench of Travis’s trailer was all over him, a rancid musk that filled his nostrils and made his fat cock throb in his soaked briefs. He knew it would only get worse from here.

He waddled inside, his gut leading the way, leaving Travis to deal with one of his dads in the living room. Preston had his sights set on Vince, his adoptive father, who was always in the kitchen around this time. Preston’s belly jiggled with every step, the weight of his transformation settling into his bones like it had always been there. The trailer park had changed him, but the change wasn't done.

He pushed open the kitchen door to see Vince standing by the counter, tapping on his phone. The sight of his dad made Preston’s stomach growl, not from hunger, but from the anticipation of what was about to happen. Vince looked pristine, dressed in his usual light blue suit and pink button-down, looking like he was ready to entertain guests. His soft jawline and graying hair gave him an air of sophistication, the kind of gay dad who thrived on dinner parties and keeping up appearances.

But Vince didn’t know what was coming for him.

“Preston?! Oh my God… Preston, what happened to you? We need to get you to a hospital—”

Before Vince could finish the thought, his phone was ripped from his hand, and Preston slammed it down on the counter. “No need for that, Daddy Vince,” Preston growled, his voice thick with the same Southern drawl as Travis. “I’m feelin’ better than ever.”

The musk rolling off Preston’s body hit Vince like a brick wall. It was vile, a disgusting stench that made his eyes water and his stomach churn. But something about it was… intoxicating. Vince’s hand trembled as he tried to reach for the phone again, but Preston was quicker, his fat fingers gripping the back of Vince’s neck and pushing him toward the counter.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Daddy,” Preston whispered into Vince’s ear. “You’re gonna join me… just like I did with Travis.”

Vince struggled, but his body felt weak against Preston’s growing strength. His mind was hazy from the overpowering stink his son was giving off. His eyes darted around the room, trying to make sense of it all. Preston had been a jock—a fit, handsome boy with the world at his feet. And now… now he was this bloated, slobbering pig.

Preston’s hand reached for the tray of cupcakes that were meant for his birthday party, the colorful frosting catching Vince’s eye for just a second before Preston shoved one into his mouth.

“Mmmph!” Vince tried to protest, but Preston’s grip was too strong. The cupcake forced its way down his throat, the sugary sweetness filling his mouth. He couldn’t stop chewing, even though his mind screamed at him to fight back.

“That’s it, Daddy… eat up,” Preston said with a cruel grin, his fat fingers grabbing another cupcake and shoving it into Vince’s mouth. “Time for you to join the family tradition.”

As Vince choked down the cupcakes, something started to shift. His body betrayed him as his flat stomach began to bloat, the buttons on his pink shirt straining under the sudden pressure. His smooth skin rippled as fat began to accumulate, his once slightly defined chest turning into sagging moobs that jiggled with every forced bite.

“N-No… Preston, stop… I don’t—” Vince’s voice was barely a whimper as another cupcake was shoved into his mouth.

Preston was relentless, forcing more and more cupcakes down his adoptive father’s throat. Vince’s belly swelled, his love handles spilling over the waistband of his suit pants. His soft jawline puffed up, turning into a thick double chin that wobbled with every chew. His perfectly tailored pants ripped at the seams as his ass grew into a sagging mound of fat, jiggling obscenely as he tried to squirm away from his son’s grip.

“Look at you, Daddy Vince,” Preston taunted, ripping off his dad’s suit jacket and throwing it to the floor. “You’re becoming just like me. A fat, stinkin’ slob.”

The buttons on Vince’s pink shirt finally gave way, popping off and flying across the kitchen as his swollen belly pushed forward. His gut was huge now, soft and jiggling with every movement. His bulge, once noticeable in his tight pants, had shrunk into a pathetic nub, barely a bump under the layers of fat that had taken over his body.

Vince’s mind was slipping. The more Preston force-fed him, the harder it was to think. His once clear mind was clouded by the overpowering stench of his son’s musk, and the sensation of his body swelling with fat. He could feel himself changing—his mind dulling, his desires shifting. He didn’t want to fight anymore.

“F-Fuck…” Vince muttered, his voice barely a slurred whisper as he leaned back against the counter, his now enormous belly resting on his thighs. “I… I feel so… disgusting…”

Preston grinned, grabbing one last cupcake and shoving it into Vince’s mouth. “That’s the point, Daddy. You’re one of us now.”

Vince moaned, his fat body trembling as he finished the cupcake, crumbs falling into the deep creases of his belly. His once clean and pristine self was gone, replaced by a bloated, stinking slob. His body was covered in sweat, the smell of his own filth mixing with Preston’s musk.

Preston stood back, admiring his handiwork. Vince was unrecognizable, a far cry from the polished, sophisticated man he’d once been. Now, he was just another fat, greasy pig.

“Welcome to the family, Daddy,” Preston said with a sneer. “My real daddy is taking care of Daddy Brent."

Travis lumbered up the stairs, each step creaking under his massive weight. The air of sophistication and cleanliness of the house made his skin crawl. It was far too pristine, too perfect—nothing like the life he and Preston were now embracing. The putrid stench of his own body clung to him, a walking reminder of the filth he reveled in, and he couldn’t wait to share it with Brent, Preston’s other adoptive father.

He reached the top of the stairs and paused, catching sight of the bedroom door left slightly ajar. From inside, he could hear the sound of music softly playing, and the faint scent of cologne wafted into the hallway. Travis grinned—this was going to be fun.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the room, his massive bulk filling the space as his eyes landed on Brent. The man was standing in front of a mirror, adjusting his shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal his muscular, hairy chest. Brent was the polar opposite of Vince—where Vince was soft and well-dressed, Brent was a picture of rugged masculinity, with his bald head, thick beard, and toned body.

Brent turned around, startled by the intrusion. His sharp jawline tensed as he took in the sight of the hulking, sweaty man who had just entered his room.

“Who the hell are you?” Brent demanded, his voice firm, but there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t recognize the grotesque man standing before him, but something about him seemed eerily familiar. Before Brent could press further, Travis let out a loud, wet fart that echoed through the room like a thunderclap.

The stench was instantaneous, a vile cloud of filth that filled the air and overwhelmed Brent’s senses. His eyes watered, and he gagged, stumbling back onto the bed in shock.

“Jesus Christ… what the fuck is wrong with you?!” Brent gasped, his hands going to his nose as if that could block out the rancid smell. But it was no use. The stench clung to everything, and the room felt like it was closing in on him.

Travis chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made Brent’s skin crawl. “You’re ‘bout to find out, boy,” he said, stepping closer to the bed. “This is what happens when you’re part of our family.”

Brent’s head was spinning, the overwhelming odor and the dizzying sense of something being terribly wrong gnawing at him. His muscular chest rose and fell as he struggled to catch his breath, but his strength was fading. It was like the air itself was thick with poison, draining him of his will to resist.

Travis loomed over Brent, placing his massive, sweaty hands on the man’s broad shoulders. “Relax, big guy,” he growled, his voice dripping with smugness. “You’re gonna love this.”

Brent tried to pull away, but his body wasn’t responding the way it should. The dizziness was growing worse, and the feel of Travis’s hands on his skin made his body tingle with an odd sensation he couldn’t shake. Travis began massaging Brent’s shoulders, kneading the muscles with an unexpected gentleness, though the stink radiating off him never let up.

With every movement of Travis’s hands, Brent could feel his body changing. The definition in his abs, which he had worked so hard to maintain, began to soften, the firm ridges giving way to a layer of fat that bloated his once-toned stomach. His hairy chest, which had been one of his proudest features, began to sag, the muscles turning into soft, jiggling moobs that rested heavily against his torso.

“W-What… the fuck…?” Brent groaned, his voice trembling as he tried to make sense of what was happening to him. His sharp, bearded jawline began to blur, fat accumulating around his face until a thick double chin formed beneath his once-chiseled features. His designer button-down strained against the rapid expansion of his body, the fabric pulling tight as his belly swelled, and his love handles spilled over the sides of his pants.

“Just relax,” Travis grunted, his hands now moving lower, massaging Brent’s sides as his love handles plumped up even further. “You’re turnin’ into the pig you were always meant to be.”

Brent’s mind was a fog of confusion and disgust, but the worst part was… he couldn’t fight it. The smell, the sensation, the sheer wrongness of it all was drowning out his ability to think clearly. His bulge, once noticeable and proud in his black dress pants, was shrinking into a pathetic nub, barely discernible beneath the growing mass of his fat gut.

The buttons on Brent’s designer shirt began to pop off one by one, unable to contain the rapidly expanding girth of his belly. His chest hair, which had once been thick and masculine, now looked out of place on his sagging moobs, the flesh jiggling with every slight movement. His dress pants ripped at the seams, the fabric tearing open to reveal his hairy, flabby thighs and sagging ass, which now jutted out like a mound of jello.

Travis grinned, stepping back to admire his handiwork as Brent collapsed onto the bed, his massive body too heavy to support anymore. “Look at you, boy,” Travis sneered. “You’re nothin’ but a fat, filthy pig now.”

Brent’s mind was slipping, his thoughts clouded by the stench and the rapid transformation his body had undergone. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face, his body bloated and disgusting, but… there was a part of him that didn’t care anymore. The stink that had once made him gag was now… familiar. Comforting, even.

Travis leaned down, his face inches from Brent’s, and let out another rancid fart, the sound echoing in the now-filthy bedroom. Brent barely flinched this time, his glazed eyes staring up at the ceiling as the room filled with the foul odor.

“You’re one of us now,” Travis said, his voice low and commanding. “A fat, stinkin’ slob, just like Preston. Just like me.”

Brent moaned, the last of his resistance crumbling as his body gave in to the transformation completely. His designer clothes lay in tatters around him, his once-muscular frame now nothing more than a massive, jiggling mound of fat. The sharp features that had once made him so handsome were gone, replaced by rolls of flesh and a slack, dumb expression.

“Get used to it, boy,” Travis growled, patting Brent’s bloated belly with a satisfied smirk. “You’re gonna be livin’ in filth from now on.”

Brent barely registered the words, his mind too far gone to process what had just happened. All he knew was that the life he had once known was over, and there was no going back.

Travis stood up, leaving Brent to wallow in his own filth as he headed back downstairs to check on Preston and Vince. The family was finally complete.

The living room felt different now, it was heavy, thick with the smell of sweat, musk, and filth. Travis stood at the center of it all, his massive arms crossed over his bloated gut, grinning with pride as he surveyed his handiwork. His family was complete, and there was nothing left of the pristine life that Preston’s adoptive dads had once known.

Brent waddled down the stairs first, his designer shirt now nothing more than a few tattered pieces of fabric clinging to his flabby frame. His chest sagged, hairy moobs jiggling with every step, and his once sharp jawline had completely dissolved into a thick, quivering double chin. His eyes were glazed over, a dull look of submission and satisfaction etched across his face as he reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the room.

Vince shuffled out of the kitchen soon after, his light blue suit bursting at the seams. His fat belly hung over the waistband of what was left of his pants, and his pink shirt had burst open, leaving his chest and stomach fully exposed. His hairy skin glistened with sweat, his body now a mountain of fat that jiggled and wobbled with every clumsy movement he made. Vince’s face was slack, his double chin wobbling as he took in the sight of his new family with a dumb, contented grin.

Preston stood between his two dads, looking like a grotesque reflection of the man he had once been. His athletic build was gone, replaced by an even larger belly than his fathers’, sagging moobs, and thick love handles that spilled out of his overstretched clothes. His eyes sparkled with a newfound joy—he had embraced his transformation, and there was no turning back. The remnants of his old life were buried under layers of fat and the overwhelming stink of their new existence.

“Look at you boys,” Travis growled, watching as his creation unfolded before him. “All fat, stinkin’ pigs, just like me. Ain’t no goin’ back now.”

Vince’s once smooth jawline was now buried under layers of fat, his double chin quivering as he leaned in to press his face against Brent’s hairy moobs. He inhaled deeply, the scent of his husband’s sweat filling his nostrils and sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Brent, in turn, let out a low, guttural moan as he squeezed Vince’s bloated love handles, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Travis grunted, stepping forward to join his new family. He reached out, grabbing a handful of Preston’s fat ass, the flesh jiggling beneath his grip. “This is what you were always meant to be, boy. You and your daddies.”

Preston let out a shuddering moan as his dad’s words sank in. He felt complete, whole in a way he had never known before. His fat body was his new reality, and the stench that clung to him, the sweat that dripped down his rolls of flesh it was all part of the life he was meant to live.

Travis stepped back, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold before him. His family was finally complete, each one of them a bloated, stinking reflection of himself. He had turned them all into ignorant, rancid, obese, gainer pigs. And he couldn’t be more proud.

Preston, Brent, and Vince continued to grope and explore each other’s bodies, their hands sinking into the rolls of fat that now defined them. They were lost in their own world of filth and pleasure, their minds fully given over to the transformation. The remnants of their old lives had faded away, replaced by the primal, piggish existence they now embraced.

The sound of their moans and grunts filled the room as the family of slobs reveled in their new life.

[menlove]

like on paper the magicians is unbeatable. magic grad school w a bisexual protagonist and a gang of mentally ill faggots who all run off to discount narnia (btw narnia does exist in this universe and they just land in the Shit One). he has a toxic relationship w a powerful witch who turns into magical creature after she casts a spell So Powerful it eats her alive and she is textually the hero of the story. his best friend turns into a goddess. he falls in love with the guy assigned to give him the magic grad school tour who is a self-destructive gay man from indiana who accidentally killed a kid w telekinesis and who is ALSO the new high king of discount narnia. they have a kid together. all of the female characters are extremely complex characters who are allowed to be selfish and angry and volatile and all the male characters cry and get to be soft and motivated by their relationships and emotions.

the show is also the worst thing to ever happen to television and committed several hatecrimes against me and despite all this the last season wound up being one of the most misogynyistic and homophobic things I had the displeasure of watching

[roboticchibitan]

I remember when same sex marriage was legized in my state (3 years before obergefel vs Hodges which legalized it nationwide). It won by a very narrow margin.

People who had taken care of me when I was young, people who were like second parents to me, (along with half the other people I knew) were saying it was the end times because I could now get married. And I couldn't help but wonder... would those people have protected me, cared for me, let me play with their children, if they had known I would grow up to be queer?

I came out in 2011. I was lucky. My parents were accepting. My mom was clearly uncomfortable at first but she made it clear she loved me no matter what.

Except.

My dad didn't care if I was queer and assured me that didn't mean there was anything wrong with me (in a speech I didn't need to hear but I think he needed to say). But he still said "that's gay" and "that's faggy" anytime my little brother showed vulnerability.

And I was a lucky one. My father used homophobic slurs around me regularly. He turned the word gay into a slur with his homophobic mouth. And I was a lucky one.

When I came out publicly, my grandmother stopped speaking to me for a while. I'm lucky that she changed her mind. I'm lucky that my grandparents let me bring my girlfriend with me when I went to visit them in October. October of 2022 and I still consider myself lucky that my grandparents let my queer partner into their house. My other grandma likewise visited with us, and was polite and friendly, but she still refused to call my gf anything other than "your friend." Still lucky. Incredibly lucky.

People don't understand just how bad things were as much as ten years ago. When I came out at school, I was lucky. No one bullied me. No one shoved me into lockers or called me slurs. They all just stopped talking to me. I became invisible. I went to a small school. I was the only person who was out. Exactly one person talked to me the rest of the year. And I was a lucky one.

When I was in middle and highschool, the go to insult was "that's gay." I heard it constantly. Every day. Sometimes people said it to me to insult me, long before I even knew I was queer.

I was lucky because the worst that happened to me was social isolation and people using slurs around me or turning my identity into a slur. No one called ME faggy. No one beat me up behind the school bleachers. I was incredibly lucky.

I have experienced the word "gay" used as a slur far more than I ever heard the word "queer" used as a slur. Young "queer is a slur and only a slur" people need to know the world you live in is not the world the rest of us live in. Why is "queer" a slur but "gay" isn't? My homophobic father thought the word "gay" conveyed just as much offense and disgust as the word "faggot." So why is queer the horrible word that can never be reclaimed but people say "that's gay" as a compliment now? The loneliest I have ever felt was in a room full of teenagers who thought my identity was the height of insults. So why is gay fine but queer isn't?

I am a fat butch queer and I do not hide that. My shoes have a pride flag on them. I have a masculine haircut and wear men's clothes. I look queer.

And I am afraid. I dress like this anyway, because I want other queer folks to know I am a safe person. I dress how I do partially because I like it but also partially so any queer person in the room, no matter now closeted, can see me and feel a little bit safer. Because I will protect other queer people with my life if need be.

Because I am openly and visibly queer and live in a world where being queer can get you killed. Because it can. Gay bashings still happen. The alt right are getting bolder in their violence, and that includes homophobic/transphobic violence. There are organizations in the US that are actively pushing to make homosexuality punishable by death in Africa. They know they could never accomplish that here. But they would if they could. People want us dead.

Young people need to understand that. And they need to understand that the people who did the most work to free us from criminalization were queer. They identified as queer. And they weren't the perfect law abiding queers toeing the line of what's acceptible. Because being queer itself was illegal. You could end up on the sex offender registry for being gay. In fact, there are queer people who are STILL registered as sex offenders just because they were queer in 2001. Pride wasn't a permitted parade with wells Fargo floats. It was angry queers illegally marching down the streets, screaming "We're here. We're queer. Get used to it."

Being openly queer is a radical act. It is still a radical act.

I did not live through Windsor vs the united states, the referendum 74 debate, my father punishing my brother for being human with homophobic slurs, and the pearl clutching fearmongering about "the gay agenda" (that was a go to phrase for 2012 homophobes) for some LGBT kid to come at me with TERF bullshit they got off tiktok about how my identity is a slur and I'm a horrible person for using it.

I was a lucky one and I'm still saying "no, absolutely not" to this bullshit.

Queer is more inclusive. Queer accounts for any possible fluidity because people change. Identities change. Queer is there for people who know they're Something Different but are not sure of the details yet. Queer is intentionally vague. When you're young you want everyone to know exactly who you are but as you get older you realize actually my identity is none of your business. In fact, sometimes when you tell someone your identity, you're handing them a bludgeon for them to hurt you with.

If you have trans classmates, you do not understand the world the rest of us grew up in. Trans people were not a public topic. They were not even acknowledged as existing by most people. I didn't know what being trans was until I was like 17. I'm nonbinary now and consider myself trans 10 years later.

And I didn't even have it that bad. But you know what? It still sucked and it was still hard and I can't imagine what it was like to grow up a decade before I did. I had it easy compared to most people.

If you can jokingly say "that's gay" when someone expresses queer love, then you can fucking handle people using the word queer as their identity.

The infighting and policing each other has to stop. You're oppressing queer people with this bullshit. It does not matter what words queer people use to describe themselves when there are people actively killing us. What are you doing? For fucks sake look at the bigger picture. Direct all that rage at our oppressors and the people who mean us harm. Queer people and he/him lesbians and bi lesbians and people who use neo pronouns and whoever else is the discourse of the day do not deserve this kind of treatment. Punch a homophobe and maybe you'll feel better.

[freakcliff]

x men tumblr dashboard simulator

bluebabadee

THIS BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR NON-HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS. HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS DNI

10 notes 📌Pinned Post

sparklejays Follow

based on your likes!

every time I see a human talking about "how cool it would be to have superpowers" or some shit like that I loose it a little bit more. do these people realize that being a mutant isn't just fun powers. like even beyond the shit I deal with trying to get jobs or all the relationships that have been ruined once people realized I'm a mutant. abilities aren't just fun and games, I have a friend who can't touch people without nearly killing them, I burned down three buildings before someone finally taught me to control my abilities, and these people are all like "wouldn't it be great to fly to work every day??" just admit that you see us as comic book characters and not real people with real struggles

#actually mutant #jay .txt

276 notes

scamperpamperblog reblogged spocktism

🏙️tilleys-brain Follow

self diagnosing is great and all but most of you people aren't telepaths, you're just hyperempathic

#actually mutant #actually telepathic #hyperempathy #crosstagging i know but some of yall need to see this #tilley speaks #it can be dangerous to go around acting like you know peopels actual thoughts when its just your brain

1,657 notes

oh-you-pretty-things

.

#vent post #sometimes I get really mad at magneto #like I think he's done a lot for mutant rights and stuff #but I'm so fucking tired of everyone assuming that I'm evil just because of my powers #like jesus not all of us are trying to start atomic wars #some metallokinetics just use their abilities to make cool sculptures #but I can't get a spoon from across the room in front of strangers without someone mentioning jfk

3 notes

mutantbuffy reblogged muntantpollscentral

🩻mutantpollscentral

*physical mutation meaning something that is ALWAYS physical, not just something you can turn off and on whenever

#ig my mutation IS technically physical its just not visible to people most of the time so i feel weird claiming that #but like i was born with the tattoo marks #the powers didnt come till later tho #so idk which to pick

668 notes

sploimsh reblogged jesterjuleses

🎹pussy-truck-faggot

HEY! shout-out to people with *weird* mutations. Mutations that don't look cool, mutations that are gross, mutations that are dirty, mutations that you can't tell people about because they always cringe. You're just as valid as every other mutant out there. Your powers don't need to be palettable to humans for you to be treated with respect.

#THIS!!! #rb

5,678 notes

rosetvler

god i am so tired of the hypocrisy in this community. the double standards are insane. its okay to have 'scary' powers but the moment someone's abilities are scarier than like, pyrokinesis you're evil and dangerous to be around. 'acceptance' for you people only means nice mutants who've never hurt or scared anyone ever.

rosetvler reblogged rosetvler

non-mutants can reblog this btw

#srb #actually mutant #getting real tired of this

18 notes

katiedidnt reblogged morelikesexmen

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

okay like. i get that were all about acceptance and pride or w/e but no one in this tag has ever had friends irl i swear. if someone asks you not to read their mind you shouldnt. honestly you shouldnt be using telepathy on people at all without their permission. mutant abilities dont disclude you from respecting peoples boundaries

🌌rosetvler Mutuals

i swear to god you people are such hypocrites. its all 'mutant and proud' until someone has a power you dont like. its always about keeping the humans feeling comfortable instead of thinking about how it feels to never use your powers because theyre breaking 'boundaries' that were made up by humans in the first place

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

dude do you hear yourself right now

🎆jade-the-pyromancer Follow

Hey, I like your point op, but maybe you should stop trying to speak over actual telepaths and let them decide how to use their powers themselves???

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

i. i am a telepath.

#duddeeee telepaths are insane #used to be friends with one SO glad i broke that off before it went too bad

15,678 notes

[captainjimothy]

i am always thinking about trans brunt. if i start with a ferengi female--humiliated from birth, treated as less than an object--and i add transgenderism, and i sell that character to a husband while he's still in his teens, well, it's entirely possible that he kills his husband and steals his identity and burns his house down. or some other horrible accident, you know, it happens. so he claws his way into true success, obtaining a very powerful position, and he reaches his middle age with everything he's ever wanted and the scars to prove it.

he knows firsthand how cruel men can be to other men. he knows that his life is in constant jeopardy, because if someone needed blackmail material, it's all right there in the medical records. the only thing keeping him alive is the bribe he forks over to his doctor every month, and his ability to perform ferengi masculinity to the very letter at every moment of every day.

and then that character meets quark. a cis man, with a truly disgraceful set of family members: his father had no head for business, his mother is leading the women's rights movement, his brother used to be his sister and has married a non-ferengi on terms of equality and started a labor union with her, and his brother's son, now a damned starfleet cadet, was a daughter first. oh brunt, you remember that. you remember the brothers leaving ferenginar as fugitives with the child between them, setting up inside an active cardassian military base to protect themselves from men like you.

and it worked. they're fine. they're happy, even. they don't care about the rules anymore, the rules that would descend on you like a thousand hells if you put a toenail out of line.

quark, as the cis brother, is the only one you are at all capable of dealing with, but even this is infuriating. he may still profess to follow ferengi custom, but it's with very little genuine effort, and the end result is shamelessly, flagrantly disrespectful of every rule that hangs over your own head as a death sentence. yet he faces no consequences outside of his self-imposed exile, and even curries favor with ZEK, who has decided to FUCK HIS MOM.

and just to add insult to injury, you cannot ignore the fact that you desperately want to fuck him, which makes you feel like a girl even while you degrade him in your mind for being a faggot.

like. god. OF COURSE he's obsessed with shutting the bar down OF COURSE he can't stop coming back just to irritate quark OF COURSE he wants to buy quark's desiccated remains and would happily kill quark himself if needed.

[borntobabygirl]

Obey me characters as convo’s I’ve had with friends

Asmodeus: If you have a boyfriend, and he says you can’t use his balls as beauty blenders- 

Satan: *Leaves VC*

Lucifer: Why is it in Korean?

Leviathan: Are you homophobic or something?

Asmodeus: Prepare your balls

Barbatos: For the love of fuck it was 4AM when you sent that 

Diavolo: A dog trotted up to me in public and very slowly took a burrito from my hand. He thought he was being sneaky 

He was

I didn’t notice it at all

I feel violated 

MC: L take skill issue 🫵

Belphegor: Is knowing gay lore gonna help me in college?

Mammon: Never know, it may…

Asmodeus: Could help you get laid. Idk about actually passing semesters though 

Satan: It’s creature! [Picture of cat]

Beelzebub: Car🤤

Satan: …Why are you like this 

F!MC: I just finished my period 

M!MC: Nope it’s gonna surprise you 

F!MC: Huh?-

NB!MC: NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE

Belphegor: WHY ARE THE SHADOWS MOVING AGAIN

Beelzebub: It’s me 

Belphegor: Is that why it’s built like a Cheeto

Diavolo: Bed bath and behind you 

Barbatos: Do your homework

Diavolo: Nuh uh 

Solomon: You’re a man, let ‘em dangle 

Simeon: Let what dangle😨

Solomon: *Leaves VC*

Simeon: *DMing him* SOLOMON LET WHAT DANGLE

Diavolo: Do you see that vent, Lucifer? I know it’ll be hard, being sus, but you need to-

Lucifer: Kill yourself 

Diavolo: Ok😔

Asmodeus: Sol, Sol

🎁

Open the box 

Solomon: *Opens box*

Asmodeus: 🍆

HAHA ITS MY WEINER 

Diavolo: Lesbian rats‼️

Barbatos: WHERE

Lucifer: MC

MC

MC RESPOND

MC: Rat lord

What do you desire

My l i e g e

Belphegor: Oh wait of course Lucifer and Diavolo are sitting beside each other

Satan: Faggots

Belphegor: yawns out in a very loud and dramatic manner

Lucifer: Please do not tell me you just woke up

Belphegor: If I did?

Lucifer: IT IS 4PM FOR YOU

Asmodeus: Seethe

Fucking S E E T H E

Satan: IT AIN’T FUNNY

IM ON EDGE DUDE

Don’t joke about the edge thing

Asmodeus: WHY YOU EDGING oh ok

Diavolo: 🐌Snail :D

Belphagor: Kill it

Satan: Run it over

Belphegor: Stab it repetitively

Diavolo: NO D:

Mammon: Garlic toast incident 

MC: Garlick*

Mammon: Garlick💔

MC: I thought you were lonely ngl👍 I mean you are but,,,

Mammon: WH AYE SHUT YOUR MOUTH PLEBISCITE

MC: Permission to bite

Lucifer: Permission granted

MC: Huzzah

NB! MC: Woah, is that- Masquerade Butterfly🤔 by👆 Miura Ayme‼️

(Any) MC: His songs are so dick suckable🤤

Lucifer:😨

Mammon:😨

Leviathan:😨

Satan:😨

Asmodeus:😨

MC: THE UNISON WAS FUCKING IMMACULATE

Mammon/MC/Leviathan: I can skibidi explain‼️

Lucifer: I will skibidi kick your ass‼️

[zimt-deathnote]

Funny Idea that Occured to Me:

Mello comes out to his mafia in the most threatening way possible. In so doing, he terrifies them out of using homophobic language.

Something like ... "I am the indispensible brains of this outfit, but I am perfectly willing to be the psychopathic executor of the most unhinged violence you have ever seen. The next person who uses a homophobic slur in my presence--I've prepared a handout, don't worry--will experience that unhinged violence first hand. Because I'm gay, and tired of hearing it."

One of them complains, "But these are all my favorite insults!" And Mello is instantly at his throat with a razor, hissing, "Then come up with better, more inclusive insults. Or I'll literally [redacted] [redacted] and [redacted] with your own [redacted] so you have to [redacted] with a magnifying glass."

Jump forward two weeks, and instead of his mafia calling their enemies "faggots" or whatever, they now say inventive things like "Taco Bell customer" and "spaghetti breaker".

Dude.

DUDE. I LOVE THIS.

(I'm pretty sure that's Matt's knife btw >:3c)

Also: I think Matt talked him into this.

“You know what? If the system sucks, why don’t you just change it? Make new rules.” ”Matt, I can't just single-handedly change long-established gang structures overnight." "I mean, what are they gonna do of you try? Fire you?" "Kill me. And you right after. I’m just ONE GUY - how do you think that should go??" "You’re not just one guy - I know of at least one person that would personally smash a blokes head if they pulled a gun on you for whatever reason and that’s the fucking BOSS, dude. Rod had your back from the very beginning. He'd be a gormless moron if he got rid of you because you were shagging a guy. He needs you. They all need you. And Ross knows that, I'm pretty sure. And besides, if anyone can change long-established gang structures overnight, that’s you, innit?? Who was it that brought Rod a head as an initiation gift, huh? The one who infiltrated the bloody mafia on his own?? I think it's a smaller task to get your subordinates to stop hitting on gays, don't you?" "Well, if you frame it like that..." "Also, you're forgetting the most important thing: you're fucking Mello. They're all scared of you and rightly so."

----- My other socials Commission Info Let's drink some Ko-Fi! 🍵

[rosebud-poet]

[Black text on a white background that reads:

my gender is whatever makes me easiest to kill,

my gender is breeding stock, kill all men, can’t you just stay unobtrusive and neutral, the question cut apart in debate chambers, my ragged flesh and bones picked for statistics and arguments by vultures in suits who go home to too-young wives, breathing out my same old screams to useless onlookers sitting in rows, you’re disgusted by my blood on the floor but unwilling to shoot down what’s killing me slowly, what are the magic words i need to say to get you to care that i’m dying, 

my gender is polite young woman in a pantsuit long long dead, forward-thinking and modern, isn’t it funny that she lived as a man, she wanted better opportunities, we dug up the body and passed it around the archives and if you look here you’ll see the place where they cut out the most important parts, so sad to see such irreversible damage, so sad she never had children, so sad she was mutilated, but she was such a trailblazer, the first woman to put a bullet in a state senator’s head,

my gender is a bullet in a state senator’s head, shooting down vultures before they break my sibling’s skin, crippled tranny faggot (triple threat) with a score to settle, with a gash down the center of its chest spitting fire through pharmacy phone lines, never fucked someone who wasn’t an enemy of the state, never was your little girl, sticking around till the bitter end and triple dog dare you to come bash me yourself you bloody-beaked coward, come watch me be the monster you all say i am,

my gender is whatever makes me hardest to kill.]

[averyfawkes]

6 months passed by like wind. My rehabilitation has gone smoothly and I can't ask for more. The nurses who assist me every day are such sweethearts. They treat me nicely and gossip with me while they do their rounds. They're all funny and caring, and I couldn't ask for more. I'm slowly regaining my control over my body as years of being in coma sapped away my strength and vitality. Everyone praises me for doing my best to eat all my food, take my prescriptions, and give my best in any physical exercises they put me through. Even my mom and my sister, Agnes, were surprised at how I remained positive despite the hardships that I'm facing after waking up. I just give them all a smile and say that I'm just looking forward to the day when I'm fully recovered and resume my life again. I mean, who wouldn't be excited to live their life when they discovered that they literally have a hive mind constantly expanding within their consciousness?

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I hear my alarms start ringing, indicating that I should get up and start my day. These past few months have been a rollercoaster for me and my Dad. He finally confessed to my mom about his sexuality and she also confessed to her infidelity. Both of them acknowledged that having me in their 20's was the only reason they decided to be together. But now that I'm almost done with college, they both thought that it's best for them to be true to each other about how they really felt.

I didn't take that well at first, but after my dad talked to me one night in my bedroom, I felt like I just had a different perspective in life. Rather than dwelling about how I should feel about this whole thing, I'm old enough now to discover myself too and not end up like my Mom and Dad. They still love each other but more in a friendship-type love. I can't go back to the past and prevent them from having me and setting aside their own dreams, but I can focus on my own and let them fully express themselves.

Right on schedule, Dad comes into my room with his phone in hand. He checks on me and smiles as soon as he sees that I'm awake. He raises both his eyebrows before waving his phone at me. I just replied with a nod before lifting both my arms to pose for my morning update. I look straight into Dad's camera and flash a gentle smile, knowing that Avery will love my morning update.

"Fuck, Ethan. You look so hot right now. If Avery is here, I would definitely ask him for permission to suck your cock and gulp your cum. I'm so glad that you told me that you're gay too, just like your old man." Dad says as he types on his phone with his right hand while stroking his boner with his left.

"Oh come one, Dad. You know the rules. My body is only for Avery and no one else's. I haven't cummed for a month now. Avery wants me to save it until he's discharged, and I couldn't ask for more. Although, I'm having a hard time focusing now. The anticipation of finally being able to let Avery enjoy my body is killing me. It's all I can think about right now." I stand up from my bed and stretch my limbs as I talk to Dad. I can feel my dick getting harder just by talking about Avery. I can still remember the day that I met him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Damn! My dad is a faggot?! I can't believe this. Now it makes so much sense. Why he's been distant with mom lately, why he likes to pick me up after football practice when I was in highschool, why some of my friends in college told me back then that they swore that a gay friend of theirs saw my dad on Grindr. I thought they were just making all that shit up. I never thought that my gym-hound, alpha man of a dad is a fucking fairy.

After he and mom told the news to me over dinner, I didn't say anything and just walked up to my room. Mom cried while asking me to sit back down but I just ignored her and headed to my room. What do they expect from me? Celebrate how my mom is a slut and my dad is a fucking fairy? Fuck that! I was planning on moving out of this house as soon as I got my first job but fuck this. If I don't get out of here, I will lose my goddamn mind. I can just stay over at my friends' couch for a while, move in with Sophie, or just sleep on the streets. Anywhere is better than spending another minute in this clown house.

Suddenly, my door flung open even when I locked it. I see my dad standing on my doorway with keys in his hand. His eyes are red in tears but he's not making a sound. He gazes down on me as I pack my suitcase full of clothes. He looks back at me with a confused look before gazing down on my suitcase.

In an instant, I noticed something came over him as his body became rigid and tense. His body shudders as if he just peed himself before his eyes roll back into his head. He looks at me with only whites in his eyes and his jaw hanging open as if he was about to puke. I want to move but my body is frozen in utter terror. And then he lunged at me. He pins me down on the floor as his mouth closes into mine. I felt this thick, gooey fluid pouring out from dad's mouth into mine. My head throbs as if I was drunk, high, and horny all at once.

Your parents tried their best to raise you and give you a whole family. Are you going to forget that just because they both made some mistakes? They're both human and did everything they can despite having you while underaged. Cut them some slack and just be happy that they're starting to figure out themselves.

I open my eyes and see that it's morning already. Maybe I overreacted last night when I walked out of them. My mom seemed really hurt by what I did because I never did that to her. My mom and my dad have been great parents to me growing up. I should at least give them some chance to rediscover themselves after all the years of giving me the best childhood any kid could ask. I should set this right and make up for my outbursts last night.

I sit up on the edge of my bed as I check my phone. I should at least tell Sophie what happened last night. She might be worried since I always call her before I go to bed. She also mentioned yesterday that she'll be having her first day at work today. I should talk to her to calm her nerves since she tends to overthink a lot.

You don't need to call her. You don't even need to talk to her anymore. You love that girl because you were in college and you need to fit in, that's all. You just want to experience having a girlfriend in college. You don't want to end up like your parents and become stuck with someone like her. You're young and fit, you need to break up with her so you can see what the world offers.

I stare at my Sophie's number on my phone. Do I really want to talk to her right now? Do I really love her? Do I want to end up marrying her and have children with her? Of course! Absolutely! Sophie is the right amount of sexy, crazy, and responsible. Thanks to her, I was able to graduate without failing marks. In times that I need encouragement, Sophie knows what to say to help me get rid of my doubts and fears. I want to build a life with her, and now that she's starting her first job, I want to show how much I support her like she supported me.

You don't even know what to say to her. What if you say something that will make her overthink and mess up her first day. Women are fragile. Anything can affect her performance. It's better to wait until the day ends and then you can talk to her. You have a busy day. You need to get ready to go.

I find my body standing up and heading to the bathroom. I sit on my toilet and take a dump while scrolling through my phone. Maybe I'll just call Sophie after dinner. I don't want to mess with her head and make her lose her focus by saying the wrong stuff. But where am I going? I was planning to hit the gym today and then look for a job posting around the town while jogging back to my house. I don't consider this a busy day.

As I take a dump, I hear my door open. I immediately wipe my ass to see who's inside my room now. I like my privacy but still let my parents go in and out of my room as they please. After I wipe my ass clean, I go out of my bathroom and see my Dad sitting on my swivel chair, looking at something on my computer. As soon as he notices me, he minimizes the tab and swivels to face me.

"Ethan, how are you feeling? Can I talk to you? I just need a moment of your time." Dad asks me as he pats his left thigh, as if he's asking me to sit on it.

I'm so confused right now. I know that Dad just confessed about being gay but this is unacceptable. Barging into my room, using my computer without permission, asking me to sit on his lap?! That's it, now I'm really done.

You always sit on your Dad's lap when he needs to tell you something important. You're a good boy, you always listen to Dad. Every time you sit on his lap, you find yourself opening up to him easily. His words fill up your mind with what you need to do to continue being a good boy. You love sitting on his lap. You love being a good boy for your Dad.

Shit, this must be serious. Dad only asks me to sit on his lap if things are serious and he needs to tell me what I should do to remain as a good boy. I slowly walk up to my Dad and gently sit on his lap. I look straight into his eyes and find myself focusing on him. He reaches out to my computer and I notice the light of my webcam opening but it doesn't matter. I need to listen to Dad and to whatever he has to say. I want to be a good boy.

Dad looks back at me and smiles. I love seeing my Dad smile. I love how I can make my Dad happy. I feel his right hand going behind my back and touching my shoulder while his left hand grabs my cock through my shorts and gives it a firm but gentle squeeze. As soon as he opens his mouth, I find my mind becoming empty of thoughts.

"Ethan, the one who freed me wants to know you more. He thinks that you'll be the perfect boyfriend for him since you're around his age. He's a little shy and reclusive since he's been in a coma for 10 years. He decides that if he wants to have a pretty normal life, he'll need to have normal relationships aside from what he has with me and countless men who are now freed from their responsibilities. Now son, I want you to look at the camera and tell him all he needs to know about my wonderful son." Dad explains to me as I slowly turn my head to the camera and smile. I feel my cock getting harder as Dad pulls down my shorts and starts jerking me off.

"Hi! My full name is Ethan Carter Phillips. I'm 25 years old and my height is 6'2" while I weigh 200 lbs. I work out a lot and my body fat percentage is 10%. I have a degree in finance and just passed my CPA licensure. My dick is 9 inches long and 3 inches thick when fully hard. My balls are heavy and huge, and I can recover quickly from an orgasm. I love fucking my girlfriend, Sophie, in missionary while I play with her nipples until she cums. I want her to be the mother of my children someday. I want to secure a high-paying job so I can give her and our children a life of luxury that they deserve." I find myself sharing all this personal information about myself as if I'm answering a questionnaire listed in my head.

"Oh son, you don't need to put pressure on yourself just to have that kind of life. Not everything can be planned like that in real life. Look at your mom and I, I always knew in my heart that I was gay but I was too scared to come to terms with who I am. I gave it to the pressures and expectations of my family and friends. I dated your mom thinking that it will help me get rid of my homosexual thoughts. Now, we're in a loveless marriage, only waiting for you to get out of the nest so we can separate privately. I don't want that for you son. You need to get yourself out there and discover who you are before settling." Dad explains to me as I find myself hanging on every word while his hand jerks my cock faster.

"Now son, I want you to come with me. We're going to visit a very special friend of mine. He encouraged me to be honest with your mom and finally admits to myself who I am. I know that he'll help you discover who you are as well. After I let go of your cock, you will dress yourself professionally as if you'll be going in an interview. After 30 minutes, meet me downstairs so we can go and meet him." Dad explicitly orders each word carved into my mind.

As Dad lets go of my rock-hard and leaking cock, I stand up from his lap and head straight to the shower to clean myself. I hear Dad going out of my room and closing the door but I don't care. I need to look promising and professional in front of Dad's special friend. I want to make a good impression on him for some reason. My heart is beating like crazy while my mind is wracked with anxiety that I may not be enough for this friend. My cock throbs harder as I moan while I scrub myself. I need to be the best version of myself. I dry myself and head back to my room to pick out my suit.

As I go downstairs, I see my Dad taking pictures of himself in the mirror. He grins as he types on his phone and exhales after seems like sending it to someone. He turns his head and notices me looking at him. I never noticed it before but Dad has a very huge cock. I can see the outline of his cock through his pants as it throbs and pulsates.

"Ready to go, son? You look sharp right now." Dad says as he walks over the kitchen counter to get his keys.

"I really want to make an impression. I just hope he will like me." I reply as we walk out of the house.

Borrow your Dad's phone and send me a selfie. I want to see how good-looking you are right now.

"Dad, can I borrow your phone? I want to take a selfie." I casually ask Dad as he immediately hands me his phone.

I open Dad's phone and type in his password. For some reason, I know what it is but I don't care about that. I open the camera and find a good angle for a quick selfie. My jaw looks sharp with my hair brushed up and with my glasses on. I look so professional and handsome right now. I quickly go into Dad's email and attach my selfie before sending it to an email address that I'm not familiar with. I smile as I catch up to Dad and hand him back his phone.

The drive to the hospital is silent and unnerving. I'm trying my best to hide my boner to my dad but it seems that my legs just spread wider. I can see that Dad does the same. We both stare ahead, not uttering a single word, as our cocks throb inside our pants and leak out pre-cum. My mind is reeling with thoughts of surrendering myself to someone. To be in service to that person for the rest of my life. To become anything that he wishes. Nothing else matters. My focus is now directed into a singular objective for a single person. I can't put a finger on who this person is. All I know now is that I see this person's eyes, I will know it with all my heart.

Dad parks his car in the hospital's basement as he leads me to the elevator. Everything around me fades into a distant noise as I can only recognize my Dad's muscular back and the need to follow him. Dad walks into the hospital's hallway with a clear destination in mind. All I have to do is follow him until I can meet this person. Dad walks into a room and opens the door widely so I can go inside before him. There, I saw this thin, weak-looking man resting on his bed. He looks young and seems like he's been in this hospital for quite some time. I walk closer to his bed and roll it up until the man on the bed is almost sitting up. The man slowly opens his eyes and turns his head to me. That's when I knew.

His name is Avery and I am his. My mind and body belong to him and only him. From this day forth, I am his to use as he please. No thoughts other than his will ever run inside my mind ever again. My purpose is to serve and please him.

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Sloppy Arackniss Redesign (?)

Before I get into this, clarifying, I SAY SLURS IN THIS!!! I CAN RECLAIM SAID SLURS!!! That is all thank you. I kiss boys and love men. Carry on.

Arackniss’s design is bound to change drastically sometime eventually but atm this is just what im doing. My main problem is how he just looks exactly like angel but black. I know thats originally what the whole thing is and they’re opposites but it’s just kinda boring now. Angel is an entirely different character at this point now and Arackniss’s design should accommodate the changes while still being a bit similar looking. I want him to still look very similar to Angel in specific ways like that stupidass headshape but not because of a sibling thing. Honestly when the two were alive they hardly looked anything alike I’m 100% sure of that. Antonio (Arackniss) had black hair and much broader features and was relatively tall and kind of bulky while Anthony & Molly had light blonde hair and more subtle and soft round features and basically one of the only ways to tell them apart aside from personality was Anthony having polycoria and having bloodshot eyes pretty often.

Arackniss hardly looks how he did when he was alive anymore and has taken on many more features of Angel because of his deep rooted rivalry with his brother. I assume hating your middle-child brother that literally got named after you only to have him overdose and kill himself before actually doing anything with his life is enough to stir up more than a little bit of inner turmoil. These guys probably beat each other up OFTEN. Antonio was the first born son and dealt with so much shit before these other guys even were born and when they did show up, Anthony was named after him because their parents honestly just got lazy, and even though Molly didn’t have the name Molly yet, she was still treated like a golden child even though she contributed next to nothing to the family business which yeah that helped her in the long run but to Antonio that’s his number one priority in life. Appeasing his family is what keeps his brain running. And with that, seeing this random kid show up, get named after you, and be treated so much more leniently than you were AND he’s practically your problem because youre 15 hes like fucking 3 years old and your parents are busy all of the goddamn time AND when you DIE you take on the traits of this stupid fucking kid. He has a horrid case of eldest child syndrome and probably some insane identity issues.

This isn’t to say his hatred is only directed at Anthony either, he definitely has his issues with Molly as well, but she kept more to herself and even if she followed Anthony nonstop she was copying what Anthony was doing instead of what he was doing. Copying is the highest form of flattery but flattery gets annoying when everyone cares about the younger “better behaved” version of you. This is one of the biggest reasons Arackniss berates Angel now and in the past. Even though they havent spoken in years, Arackniss still holds Angel to the status of “faggot” because that was practically the only thing he was “worse” than him at. It was the biggest dirt he had on Angel possible to the point that became a genuine used name for him as Anthony “the fag” Benetti. Finding out your angel of a brother is gay during a time where it’s heavily frowned upon, especially by your own family is like a gold mine.

Arackniss is NOT a good person if you couldn’t somehow tell already. He’s homophobic, has a masculinity and classism problem, has little to no regard for other’s well being, and a bunch of other shit. For as distressed as he was over Anthony’s death, a lot of it was because it left their family even more dysfunctional. To him it was Anthony abandoning everyone because they weren’t worth enough to keep him going and then in return he continues to be praised and talked about so wonderfully as if he never did anything wrong “just because he’s dead”.

Thats just BEFORE Arackniss died too! AFTER dying shit got even worse to the extent he ended up even getting disowned! How fun!! This part delves more into Husk and his backstory as well which I think I may save for another time, but these guys know each other and have a lot of beef and also simultaneously are kind of chill in an odd way? By the way, Angel also has the big neck puff, he just shaves it because he doesn’t like the look and like association from trauma

[rutadales]

So instead of sending an ask clearing up misinformation on these tags bc that would be pointless and serve to only make people upset, instead I am going to illustrate to all of you how short, quippy, and wrong statements completely control the conversation. Any attempt to clear up misinfo is going to take twice as long and be a lot less clipable (tbc this person isn't doing this intentionally doing this (at least to my knowledge) but it goes to show how pervasive these quick and wrong statements are). Watch:

"dream gave gumball's va alcohol" completely wrong, dream and gumball here both went to a birthday party of a mutual friend and met 20 minutes prior to the interaction in the Uber. There's nothing to show that Dream even brought alcohol to the event, let alone saught out a 20 year old to give it to him.

"VA is underage" technically correct in the specific context of America's legal drinking age, but so misleading it feels intentional. For most people underage means below 18, a minor, and not a 20 year old adult making the decsion to drink a year before it's legal. Any reasonable person is going to assume 17 or younger here.

"VA had a bipolar swing" There's nothing to suggest this besides people decided it. You can't diagnose a manic episode from a 4 minute clip and the majority of you are not capable of diagnosing anytime at all. No one has confirmed this, not even gold statue Michaelangelo (who by the way has deleted every tweet involving the situation). But even in the scenario where he is manic in those clips, being manic is not a free pass to verbal harass minimum wage workers and be freely antisemitic, ablest, and homophobic. But I digress.

"and called Dream a faggot" yeah that parts true

Even more additional context that is relevant is Dream was physically assaulted by Gumball's VA. Gumball's VA directly asked if Dream was Jewish after saying Dream would never get rid of his money, called the Uber driver the r slur and said the Uber driver had down syndrome. He then threatened to kill or paralyze Dream.

See how long that took? Almost 400 words to counter 4 lines. And I'm giving the original commentor the benefit of the doubt here and assuming they're just repeating what they heard but you see how that's dangerous? You see how this method of controlling interactions keeps the flow on the side of the person who is factually wrong?

And I didn't even get into how this is a tactic of the alt right, how it serves to normalize using faggot as a weapon, how it actively desensitizes people to bigotry if the person on the receiving end "deserves it". Or how harmful instantly trying to make the assaulter in this situation the victim, or using mental illness as an excuse to assault and threaten to kill people is also bad! Because even though that is all true and absolutely necessary in this conversation, I can't get into it! Because it would take even longer and "I ain't reading all that" is the most annoying, damaging phrase on twitter right now.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Genuinely trying to understand why a gay person would be supporting the party you do.

Not American myself but from what I understand there’s a lot of homophobia there.

It doesn’t look like Democrats are perfect either but at least less hostile to gays?

I'll dispense with my usual "Shut the fuck up European" image response because you do actually seem genuine, so here's my genuine answer.

Yeah, there's some homophobia on the right. Some. It's nowhere near what the media would have you believe. But there's homophobia on the left, too. The left just has the media and their ability to shape a narrative on their side. The worst thing I've had said to me by someone on the right was that they don't support gay marriage and think its a sin. Or that they think gay sex is disgusting. And that's fine. I don't like hearing about certain sexual acts myself and find them gross and weird. I don't need anyone else to approve or support my sex life.

And as for the part about gay marriage, I understand where most of them are coming from when they say that, too. They truly feel that their religious beliefs are under attack and that religious marriage is supposed to be between one man and one woman. But even many of those people will say that they don't really care if gays get legally married as long as there's some differentiation between the religious ceremony of marriage, and the legal institution of marriage, which are two different things. I personally don't need anyone to validate my marriage but me and my husband. I don't care if it's legally recognized. I don't care if it's recognized by any particular church. My marriage and my relationships are my own personal business. And there are a lot of people on the right who feel the exact same way.

So, that's the worst I've gotten from the right. Let's talk about the worst I've gotten from the supposedly gay friendly left. The following is not a complete list, but here's some of the things that I've been told by Democrats and other leftists when they find out I'm a gay right winger, both online and offline:

Kill yourself

Die faggot

You should be gay bashed

I hope you get raped by a closeted Republican politician

I hope your dog dies

Kill yourself

You're a traitor to all gay people

Kill yourself with one of those guns you love

I hope you get cancer and die horribly

I hope your husband dies

You should be sent to a concentration camp

Kill yourself

and basically every anti-gay slur you can possibly think of

That's what I get from the left, from other gay people, when they find out I vote differently then they do. Just based on these anecdotal experiences with the American right and the American left, I think it's pretty clear why I find myself on one side and not the other.

But!

I'm not a one issue voter. Gay issues are mostly meaningless to me. What I care about are personal freedoms, protecting my rights, and the success of my country on the world stage. Currently, the American right aligns with those beliefs way more than the left. That's not to say the Republican Party always aligns perfectly with what I want or believe, but the reality is we live in a two party system. Until enough of us get together and make a nationally viable third party, if the choice in presidential elections is between one party that I almost never agree with and whose stated goals are to violate my rights and destroy everything I love about America, and one party that does what I voted for them to do around half the time, of course I'm voting for the second party nationally.

Locally it can be a bit different. It's easier to effect local elections and policies just by being active, and in geographically close areas the differences between the people running for town council might not be as wide as two people running for president nationally, so I won't just vote the R party line by default. I've voted libertarian locally before. Hell, I even voted Democrat once. But, for the most part, it's the Republicans who I feel will do what I think should be done more than the other parties. And that's why I vote for them, and why I'm a registered Republican. Well, that and I want to be able to vote in the Republican primaries.

[loveinhawkins]

Dustin knows that as soon as you cut one monster’s head off, another is bound to grow in its place.

So when the late Jason Carver’s family and friends move out of Hawkins, he’s secretly glad about it, sure, but he’s not exactly relieved.

Rumours are a hard thing to kill.

He’s careful; he tries his hardest to be careful. On the occasional days that Eddie happens to pick him up from school, he makes sure Eddie parks down the sidewalk, so he’s out of direct view from the parking lot. In all honesty, he doesn’t think anyone would actually try to start anything; the cover story for Eddie’s innocence hadn’t been watertight, nothing ever is, but it had been enough to stop full blown accusations.

Still. Dustin starts to think that maybe monsters now come in the form of silent looks, of parents whispering as they pick up their children from school, whisking them away as if Eddie might turn them to stone with one glance.

“I’ve had whispers all my life, man,” Eddie had told him, blasé, “I’ll get over it.”

But Dustin figured he could at least spare him from hearing some of it; a little walk before catching a ride isn’t exactly a hardship.

But in all of his imagined worst-case scenarios—picturing himself having to defend Eddie from the town’s rubberneckers—Dustin doesn’t expect to be confronted in the middle of the school day.

And certainly not while he’s alone.

A junior stops him on the way to the cafeteria. Dustin racks his brain, comes up with the name Aaron, blanks on the surname; yet he’s sure that there’s no crossover with Jason and his crew.

“Henderson, right?” Aaron says with a seemingly pleasant smile.

Dustin’s hackles are up from just the way he says his name—it’s not like the way Eddie and Steve say it, rounded and soft with fondness. It’s cold, oil slick.

“Yeah,” he says shortly. He makes to step to the side; Aaron doesn’t stop him really, but his weight shifts subtly, as if to silently declare that there’s no room for argument.

“Come on, let’s take a walk.”

-

At first Dustin tries very hard to convince himself that it’s just a coincidence when Aaron leads him into the woods.

But then he sees the picnic table.

Eddie had described every interaction he’d had with Chrissy in a kind of vivid detail that bordered on desperate—almost as if by recounting it, he might find a scrap of impossible hope: that it hadn’t happened like he thought, that she might have somehow survived after all.

It’s like Dustin can see the memory of her now, can hear Eddie’s words. I noticed she was… jumpy, you know, but, Jesus, I just thought I must’ve spooked her.

“This is where he did it, right?” Aaron says. “Where it all started.”

Dustin stays very still. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb. I saw them that day, wandering off.” There’s a horrible gleam in Aaron’s eyes, and Dustin knows it’s been fuelled by the darkest of whispers. “They timed it so it looked like they went there separately, but I fucking saw them.”

“I’m not—”

“He cursed Chrissy here, didn’t he? Then he finished off what he started at his piece of shit trailer. Fucking creep.”

In his mind’s eye, there’s a flash of Eddie in Steve’s arms, something he saw unintentionally, waking in the early hours of the morning. He remembers quickly shutting his eyes again, but that hadn’t been enough to block out Eddie’s gasping, tearful breaths. I thought I could help her, Steve, I-I thought—oh, God—

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dustin says flatly.

He can hear Eddie’s voice in his head. Don’t rise to it, don’t give them an inch. But that had been about teachers itching for an excuse to give someone a detention, not…

“That’s right, Henderson, walk away. You a freak like him?”

The leaves rustle as Aaron stalks forward; Dustin doesn’t look back.

There’s some kinds of people you just can’t reason with, Henderson.

“Yeah, I think you are. Did he teach you everything? Bet you loved it. Bet you begged for it. Begged him to show you how to be a fucking faggot—”

Dustin doesn’t remember actually deciding to throw a punch. It’s like the next few seconds of his life turn to static, to nothing, and suddenly he’s breathing heavily, and Aaron’s looking up at him from the ground in faint surprise.

It must not have been a good punch; there’s not a mark on Aaron’s face, and when Dustin glances down at his knuckles, he can’t see any blood on them. He probably just caught Aaron in the chest—winded him, if anything.

But he stands his ground. Tries to channel how Steve had squared up to Billy Hargrove.

“Say that again, and you’re dead.”

His heart pounds in his ears, a drumbeat of fury. He wonders if maybe a part of him has never stopped being twelve years old, has never stopped being angry when people spat poison about Will.

“No,” Aaron says, getting to his feet, “you are.”

And Dustin is shoved backwards. His ankle is still weak from that damn fall through the gate, so he goes down hard.

And as he lies there, trying to catch his breath through the flare of pain, he suddenly realises that no-one knows where he is. That he could get really, really hurt.

Aaron looms over him, saying nothing. He spits in Dustin’s face.

And then he leaves.

-

“Where were you?” Mike asks the period after lunch, passing over a cup of chocolate pudding he’d saved.

Dustin spins a tale about having lunch in the music department, waiting for a slot to become free for guitar lessons. It’s not technically a lie; he’d simply planned on doing it next week instead: just a taster session so he could tell Eddie about it, and then Eddie would bitch about promising youth getting ruined by learning “fucking godawful technique”, and then he’d teach Dustin properly.

Mike buys it, but his forehead wrinkles in concern when Dustin doesn’t touch the pudding.

Dustin bites down the stupid impulse to ask him about how it felt to jump off Sattler Quarry—because right now he thinks he’s been left dangling over the edge of a cliff.

Just waiting to fall.

-

He thinks he’s doing an okay job at hiding the persistent throb in his ankle, takes care to walk to Eddie’s van with his head up.

But then Eddie opens the door, and his first words are, “Hey, are you limping?”

Dustin just stops himself from sighing. Plan B, then.

“Had to run track at gym,” he lies easily.

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“I thought it would be fine!”

“C’mon, man, you’ve got a doctor’s note for a reason.”

Dustin does sigh this time—a harsh, frustrated sound as his ankle gives another warning twinge. He doesn’t stop himself in time, and he snaps, “God, you sound like Steve. It doesn’t suit you.”

The surprised glance Eddie gives him is awful. He’s silent for a moment, starting up the engine.

“Didn’t realise only Steve could care,” he says lightly, but Dustin can see the flicker of hurt in his eyes.

But while a part of him instantly regrets what he says, another part is relieved: he knows that, for now, Eddie won’t pry anymore, will just give him a pointed silent treatment for the rest of the ride.

Dustin tells himself that he doesn’t mind. He’d rather Eddie be hurt by his words than anyone else’s.

He can do this. He can handle this on his own.

He has to.