#misgendering
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Brb going to wotc to get this card printed and included in every pre-con
Let's just say I had a bad experience at mtg today.
#magic the gathering#mtg#trans#misgendering#I literally wrote she/her in front of my board and he still did it
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they/them is not an all-inclusive pronoun that you can use to refer to anyone just because it is gender neutral.
the very basic sentiment of "don't misgender people" seems to go over even the heads of trans people and cis people alike when it comes to they/them pronouns.
not everyone wants to be called they/them. if someone strictly uses she/her or he/him or she/he or neopronouns etc. anything that is not they/them.... using they/them would still be misgendering. in the same way calling someone who doesn't use any other pronoun that pronoun would be misgendering.
You don't get a free pass to call people whatever pronouns you want to call them rather than the pronouns they use just because they them is a gender neutral pronoun.
also not all nonbinary people use strictly they/them pronouns or they/them pronouns at all.
i feel like this is very simple yet is misunderstood by a lot of people
#transblr#transgender#transsexual#trans#ftm#mtf#nonbinary#enby#trans nonbinary#misgendering#lgbt#transmasc#trans masculine#trans man#trans men#transfem#trans feminine#trans woman#transwomen#trans girl#tgirl#trans boy#tboy#agender#genderfluid#genderqueer#t4t#gender euphoria#theythem#neopronouns
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Bigots denying a woman her womanhood aren't actually granting her the status of "man" esp with all its attendant privileges.
Degendering is a form of dehumanization. The goal of misgendering/degendering a woman is generally to treat her as a disposable object, unworthy of even the conditional and dubious "protection" that women are supposedly due under patriarchy.
If they actually saw her as a man she wouldn't be targeted in these ways, and "man/manly/male" would never be spat at her like an insult.
#misgendering#degendering#this happens to trans women ofc and also butch women (esp trans ones) and some racialized and/or disabled and/or intersex women#it's a form of#misogyny#compulsory femininity
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We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.
#polls#incognito polls#anonymous#tumblr polls#tumblr users#questions#polls about lgbtq stuff#submitted may 28#gender#pronouns#misgendering
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I had a disembodied voice narrate and constantly misgender me as I tried to cook dinner.
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Misgendering someone is always wrong, even if its a bad person.
Misgendering a bad trans person implies that trans identity is conditional.
Misgendering Chris Chan and Ava Chris Tyson (who are both bad people) is transphobia.
Misgendering a theoretical trans hitler would be transphobic.
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ppl are like “yeah society hates when women do unwomenly things” and youre like “yeah like being a man” and theyre like “well no actually theyre ok with that :)”
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terrible comic 4
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Let's talk a little about why the phrase "prostituted women" sucks.
Here's an example of a radfem referring to sex workers as "prostituted women", demonstrating how this language is used to ignore sex workers' autonomy. The author uses this term for me, a trans guy who sells sex with no-one controlling me, to imply that selling sex is an action which happens to me instead of something I do. (The misgendering is unsurprising - TERF and SWERF rhetoric go hand in hand.)
The quote above is from an article I wrote, Pre-Prostitution Jitters, where I speak openly about experiencing PTSD and fearing meeting with clients. I talk about how past sexual abuse often prompts this response for sex workers who have it. This is treated as soft language because... I don't describe selling sex as "earning [my] livelihood by getting raped". Me choosing to sell sex, and being stressed or nervous beforehand, is treated as evidence that the sex I seek out and consent to is rape.
The term "prostituted women" exists to treat sex workers as if we are all women and are merely acted upon and make no choices for ourselves about our sex work. The phrase implies that a third party is controlling us, because otherwise who are we being "prostituted" by? Ourselves?
Do not be fooled by people who claim to be worried about sex workers, who won't even refer to us by the terms we prefer.
#anti radical feminism#anti swerf#feminism#sex work is work#misgendering#transgender#educational post
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Always right
Hello! This is a commission for @calicocatboi, portraying Alex and Arcy, their OC's! It was a really fun writing, and I hope y'all enjoy it!
CW: ftm misgendering, breeding kink, preg kink, lactation, birth, labor denial, humiliation, nsfw
Alex's hand pinned his head against the pillow, and as he felt the sharpness of his nails pressing against the back of his head, Arcy’s pussy started to clench around the swelling knot of his boyfriend's dick. He could feel Alexander’s movements becoming more frenetic, harder, as his boyfriend towered upon him and trusted mercilessly into his hole.
As Alex used his body weight to stop Arcy from writhing beneath him, one of his hands pressed Arcy’s face against the pillow and the other free hand was busy with one of his boobs. Arcy’s breasts were sore and red, leaking saliva from the previous foreplay and covered in marks, the result of all the kissing and biting.
A loud moan escaped Arcy’s lips when he started to feel the familiar sensation of Alex’s dick starting to swell inside of him. It was predicted by how fast and erratic the werewolf movements were becoming with each trust, barely able to think besides the pleasure of being buried deep in his pussy, but it always took Arcy by surprise.
"F…Fuck…" The words came out slurred out of Arcy’s mouth when he felt the base of Alex's cock starting to become wider, thicker, around his sensitive pussy lips. “I’m so…fucking close.”
Electricity shot through his body when the tip of Alex's dick finally hit his sweet spot, making Arcy become a trembling mess beneath him. He could feel the warmth of Alex’s breath hitting the back of his head as Alex lowered himself, still pounding into him, and he slid one of his hands beneath Arcy’s legs, pressing the palm of his hand against his clitoris before he started to rub circles on it.
"Cum," Alex growled, "Cum for me."
An orgasm washed over Arcy’s body as soon as the words reached his ears. Alex let out a loud growl as he felt his pussy tightening around his cock, and then he felt his dick completing the knot, pressing against Arcys’ walls and getting stuck.
It was a matter of seconds before Arcy felt Alex’s warm seed filling him up, trapped inside his pussy by the knot. Bare, totally raw.
Alex decided to start going raw.
Well, it technically was a couple's decision, the one they took about having a baby, because, of course, Arcy was sure about it. There was no way he could not be sure when Alex had so many and so good points, right?
So yeah, having a baby was a couple's decision.
Alex’s point helped Arcy decide that the right thing to do was to postpone his transition, to wait until after the pregnancy: it was just gonna be better for him to wait until the baby was here, better on him and his body. And yes, it made sense: Arcy wanted everything to go as organic and natural as possible with the baby, even if it meant that he had to put that aspect of his life on hold.
Alex thought that was the best route to take. And his boyfriend was always right.
He felt Alex shifting behind him, wrapping his arms around Arcy’s body before he let his whole weight fall on top of him, pressing even deeper inside of his pussy.
“Good boy," Alex growled in his ear. “Take it.”
He felt his stomach slowly inflating as Alex’s seed filled him up. One of his hands traced the curve of Arcy’s stomach. An odd feeling came over Arcy. Deep in the fog of his ecstasy, the idea seemed unreal, Arcy could barely imagine the fact that in the next few months, he was going to be pregnant.
***
His eyes deceived him. If Arcy touched his body, when he would run his hand over his stomach or when he grasped over his chest, everything felt the same as always.
But now, as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, what he was and what he felt didn’t match. Beneath the palm of his hand rested the noticeable protuberance of his growing stomach. It was there, and it wasn't small. Arcy didn’t think that he would be able to hide it for much longer.
Going upwards, towards his chest, it was already starting to swell. His boobs—as Alex started to refer to them— were growing, and not only in size. His sensitivity levels were also growing exponentially as the months went by.
He experienced the fact of feeling different from what he saw in the mirror his whole life, always, but now it was entirely different: he could no longer see himself as anything other than pregnant. Other than swollen, and heavy with Alex’s child, almost as if he were no man any more.
The first few months were relatively easy. Morning sickness was almost non-existent, but his body did seem to just want to lay down and nestle in his bed, surrounded by Alex or by anything with his smell.
Now, as he reached the mark of the five months, Arcy was starting to see it.
His stomach, still a small bump (easily covered by his hoodies when he felt like it) hadn't been a problem until now. Until he realized that as every day passed, it was becoming harder and harder to just hide it.
He barely knew what he wanted to mean with it, because now, it was everything: his growing boobs, his swelling bump, his softening body, his widening hips. Everything that made him feel not him.
Arcy was used to the feeling of his body not being his, but now, he felt like a foreign in his skin more than ever. Everything was bigger, everything was more sensitive. Everything was more and more unavoidable as time passed.
Curvier than ever. His hips had to widen to accommodate the growing pup inside him, his body became softer, thighs thicker and thicker, his chest barely able to contain itself behind his binder, his walk slowly turning into a waddle.
And deep down, almost rooted, there was an idea that he was fighting. The idea that this had to be his (her) one and true nature: his body was meant for this after all. Meant for motherhood. Meant to be a baby carry machine, to be a breeding bitch, almost.
Fuck. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting wet at the idea.
Arcy's eyes traveled in the mirror from his face, to look for Alex, who was sitting on the edge of the bed behind him, staring at him through the mirror reflection.
He saw the look, Alex's eyes hungrily roaming over his body. Arcy scoffed. Alex raised an eyebrow.
“Come here.”
His boyfriend's voice, low and gritty, sent chills down his spine and made his pussy throb. Still, Arcy remained in his place in front of the mirror.
Who did he think he was, all bossy and ordering Arcy around like that? If anyone in the room, right now and in this situation, had the right to be a brat, it was Arcy.
As if it wasn't enough to be like this, now he was being bossed around.
“Come here,” Alex repeated.
Arcy didn't turn to look at him, instead, just shrugged, pulling his hoodie down to cover himself again.
“No,” he said, “I'm not in the mood for any of you right now, Alex.”
He didn't see it, but he heard the low growl and the buff coming out of his boyfriend's. Then, Arcy heard the bed creaking under his weight as Alex leaned forward, resting his hand on his knees.
“I said,” Alex growled, “Come here.”
Arcy shook his head and swallowed. He could feel the hair of his neck sticking up, and the feeling of Alex’s eyes burning on his back, and Arcy felt like prey. Well, Arcy thought, he got a reaction. A small smirk crept up his face as he felt the heat between his legs grow.
Then, the next thing Arcy knew was that Alex’s hands were pushing against his body, and he pulled Arcy down by the hips towards him, pressing his ass to his lap. A small whimper escaped Arcy’s lips when he felt the bulge of Alex’s dick pressing between his legs, and almost unconsciously, Arcy’s hips jerked, pressing back against Alex’s growing erection. Alex tightened his grip around his arms, keeping him in place as he leaned in to press a kiss against his neck.
“I told you,” Arcy grumbled, “I’m not in the mood for you.”
Arcy writhed, trying to escape his boyfriend's grip, but all he could do was squirm and press himself even more against the forming erection in Alex's pants, his cock twitching when Arcy tried to get away from him and failed.
“You shouldn’t talk to me like that,” Alex said slowly, sliding one of his hands up the fur of his abdomen, “Should you?”
Arcy squirmed, “I’m gonna…” his words were interrupted by a gasp that escaped his lips when Alex's hand traveled further up, squeezing his boobs. “…Talk… however I want.”
In response, Alex squeezed his boob harshly. A loud whimper escaped his lips and Arcy squirmed, his hips rocking against his boyfriend's throbbing dick. It only made the werewolf even more feral. He could almost feel the way Alex’s breath hitched, the beat of his heart thumping loudly in his chest, pressed against Arcy’s back, the heat of his throbbing erection against his ass.
Alex wrapped his hands around Arcy’s forearms and lifted him to pull him away from him, dragging him around the bed.
Yeah, Alex was not only way bigger than him, but Arcy also recognized how stronger he was compared to him. His boyfriend always said that Arcy hit like a girl. And it was true: it didn’t matter how much effort Arcy put into going to the gym, trying to get stronger, trying to look as buff and intimidating as Alex did effortlessly, at the end of the day when he looked at himself in the mirror, he still looked like a girl.
Alex lifted him, dragged him around, and manhandled him into throwing him onto the bed.
He felt the weight of his boyfriend's body crushing him down when Alex hovered over him, his hard breath tickling his neck as he pressed his teeth into the soft skin there, ever so faintly, but it still drew a moan from Arcy.
“God, babe,” Alex groaned, a smirk on his voice. “There’s just something about you since…” he stopped, lowering himself towards Arcy and pressing a small kiss on his neck.
It seemed like he wasn’t sure about the words that were about to come out of his mouth next, but then his chest raised and fell, and he spoke anyway. “Since you started showing. You look smoking hot like that."
Yeah, there was something about it. It made him incredibly horny to know that finally, he managed to knock up Arcy. To put his puppies inside of that little body of him. The soon-to-be huge pups inside of him. There was a certain inherent pride in knowing that, and just for the sake of making it clear, it made him horny as fuck.
It wasn’t only the feeling, but also the facts: the way Arcy’s body was changing, becoming more and more… feminine by the moment, it drove him fucking crazy.
Alex’s fingers halted at the waistband of Arcy’s sweatpants before he slowly started to pull them down, smirking as the first sight of the purple panties was revealed. If Alex didn’t know better, he would have thought the fact that Arcy was wearing the very one lingerie set Alex loved was an honest mistake or just a wonderful coincidence.
But Arcy did know better, and he knew that it was on purpose.
One of the changes that didn’t go unnoticed by Arcy was how horny his boyfriend was.
Alex continued to lift Arcy’s shirt upwards before he finally slid it off. His eyes were fixed on Arcy’s engorged breasts, now barely contained by the purple fabric, the sensitive skin pushing and teasing against his bra and stretching it to its limit.
Alex meant it when he said he liked this better. He probably would have never admitted it out loud, but seeing Arcy like this, almost at the peak of femininity, felt natural. It felt so much more natural than seeing him wearing a binder all the time. It had been a delicious experience to be able to sit back down and watch the fruit of his work. To see Arcy's hips, his boobs, the way his body changed to get used to fulfilling his natural mandate: to carry a pup.
To carry his pups. Like a good girl.
His dick was throbbing inside his pants. Alex slid a finger down Arcy’s pussy, teasing the elastic band of his underwear before he slid the finger inside the fabric, pressing against his wet folds.
A small growl escaped Arcy’s lips as his body twitched under his boyfriend’s touch, and he pushed his hips forward, meeting the palm of Alex’s hand, in a desperate attempt of anything that would produce the necessary friction for him to get off.
He felt like a desperate slut when his hand reached to search blindly for Alex’s throbbing dick, caressing and slowly pumping the erection over the fabric of his pants.
“Are you gonna fuck me?” Arcy teased, “Or you just gonna stand there and do nothing?”
He could feel the wetness growing between his legs as Alex rubbed his hand against his pussy. The pressure and the grinding seemed to go on forever, until Arcy couldn’t take any more and let out another needy moan.
Alex pressed his claws against the soft skin of Arcy’s hips, pulling him closer, before he hurriedly slid down his zip and slid inside of him, growling as he felt the wetness and warmth of Arcy's pussy clenching around him.
Another one of the few good things that being pregnant got Arcy was that he was always ready to be fucked. And usually, Arcy was constantly thinking about sex. But now it was as if his brain had melted and the only thing that remained inside his brain was being horny. He was just always ready to have Alex bending him over and stuff his dick inside his pussy.
And now that Alex was scratching that itch, thrusting faster and faster inside of him, Arcy could not articulate a single thought besides how good it felt.
How good it felt to let himself be used like that, deeply aware that Alex was using him to satisfy that particular itch. The word use was quite strong, but Arcy wasn’t dumb. He slowly but surely realized that the more he looked more and more like a woman, the more Alex was unable to keep his hand off of him.
It was humiliating. The idea was embarrassing, and it made him feel almost sick, but if Alex was so sure that he liked this better, then his boyfriend had to be right. It was just stupid to think Alex could be wrong, that Alex could want anything but what was right for Arcy.
It was humiliating, so humiliating how wet the whole thing made him.
A loud whimper escaped his lips when Alex started to thrust faster inside of him, his claws gripping at his arms and pulling him closer, trying to get deeper inside of him with each thrust.
“Ugh, f…fuck!” Arcy moaned, gripping the sheets as his eyes rolled at the back of his head.
Alex paced up the speed of his movements, his dick throbbing inside of the smaller boy. The fogging pleasure was starting to escalate, slowly but surely, and Arcy could feel himself starting to be pushed to the edge. He was almost there, thighs trembling and mouth babbling nonsense.
The tip of Alex’s was starting to swell inside of him, and he could feel his lips starting to clench around it, when Alex suddenly pulled out of him, leaving him feeling desperately empty.
A frustrated whimper escaped his mouth, but his confusion was replaced quickly when, without giving him time to even react or complain, Alex lifted his body and tossed him around in bed, so that his head was hanging from the edge of the bed, and then Alex pulled away from him, standing up and to tower over him.
If Arcy looked up, all he could see was Alex’s erection, red and swollen, leaking precum upon his head.
Then, Alex guided his dick inside of Arcy’s mouth.
The werewolf couldn't help a low growl as he felt Arcy’s lips wrapping around the tip,
“C’mon now,” Alex breathed, pushing himself into Arcy’s mouth. “Be a good girl for me.”
A whiny sound escaped Arcy’s throat, and none of them were sure if it was a protest or a moan. He could feel the heat between his legs and the need to have something creating the necessary friction for him to get off was maddening.
If Arcy was offended by his words, it didn’t show when he started sucking on his dick. His free hand reached to slide between his legs, starting to rub fast, desperate circles over his sensitive clit.
Inside of him, the pup kicked against the stretched skin of his sensitive abdomen. Alex reached a hand to let it rest over the bump of his stomach, possessively, and it only took Arcy a few more strokes to make himself cum against his hand.
Alex’s seed exploded inside of his mouth seconds later, and Arcy, like the slut he wanted to be, swallowed every drop of the thick liquid inside of his mouth. Under the pressure of Alex’s hand, he could feel his stomach starting to swell with cum, growing ever so slightly but noticeable.
As he stared down at his own body, Arcy noticed the tensing skiing of his stomach as it grew, and right where Alex’s hand was still pressed, the pup kicked. Then, Alex bent over to reach with his hand between Arcy’s legs, sliding a finger between his folds and taking it to Arcy’s lips.
“Taste yourself,” he said, a smirk on his voice as Arcy licked the slimy substance out of his finger. “And to think you didn’t want to. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you did.
Arcy, still lightheaded, nodded. Alex was always right.
***
His eyes wandered absently on the shop window, and Arcy barely registered what he saw, but then, he stopped in his tracks, and his eyes went back to his reflection, staring at himself almost with wide eyes.
He looked massive.
Well, not massive, but definitely fucking pregnant. The hem of his shirt was stretched and lifted over the lower curve of his abdomen, revealing the skin of his underbelly, and the fabric was tight around his engorged boobs.
The image —his image, took him by surprise. He didn't realize that most of his clothing had stopped fitting. Or rather, started fitting.
Most of his wardrobe consisted of oversized hoodies and overall, clothes that were way too big for Arcy. But now, his clothes were fitting him just right.
He was quickly running out of ways of hiding his new body. The fabric of all his shirts, all of his hoodies, were now overstretched over the curve of his swollen bump, and his growing chest —god, it seemed like it never stopped getting bigger and bigger, every day— was impossible to hide.
It was embarrassing to be out in public like that.
Alex was the one to speak to the doctor, and he made it clear to Arcy: there was no way he could bind his chest if they wanted to keep going with the idea of breastfeeding.
And of course, they were breastfeeding. Alex was right, it would be best for the baby to have real milk, not formula. And Arcy had a great milk supply.
A large one.
Usually, his boobs were the last thing on his mind: he would either put on a hoodie and go on or he would bind them, but now? His possibilities were few.
At the end of the day, his mind always drifted to what Alex said once: he looked like such a pretty girl now. He looked like what he was supposed to look like.
A low hum escaped his lips at the idea. His eyes tried to travel to the baby items on display, but in the end, they always ended up going back to his reflection.
It ruined the day for him. Whenever the exact thing he tried to hide —hide, what a curious choice of wording it— was finally coming to light. He barely looked like a real man.
“I think we should go back home, “ Arcy grumbled, crossing his arms against his chest and looking away from the shop window. “Now.”
By his side, Alex raised an eyebrow. He didn’t need to turn around to feel the way Arcy’s mood had turned sour. The werewolf felt a pang of annoyance at his boyfriend’s words: it was Arcy who insisted on the nonsense of them going out to the mall, the worst place ever, and then being grumpy and pouting and complaining all day long.
And the worst of all? Once again, Alex was right, he was opposed to the idea from the start.
“Why did you make me bring you here?” Alex gruffed. “We didn’t buy anything, and you’ve been all day with that attitude of yours.”
Almost intentionally, Alex quickened his pace, his steps widening, and he started to leave Arcy behind him.
A frown took over Arcy’s features, and he let out a huff as he tried to match his boyfriend’s pace, mainly, to at least be able to see him in the eye while they talked. But it was hard, his legs were short and, well, now with all the extra weight he was carrying and with his protuberant stomach, his walking turned into a waddle. And he could never match Alex’s speed.
"Alex!" Arcy whined, “Don’t run.”
By the moment Arcy could finally reach his boyfriend, they were making their way out of the mall. They passed by the food court —the smell of fresh bread and hot sandwiches wafting from the stands, which made Arcy want to gag— and they continued walking in a tense silence as they finally reached the parking lot.
Alex let out a loud huff, rolling his eyes before he finally turned to face Arcy, and his frown only deepened when Arcy gave him an exasperated, pouty look.
Alex’s eyes narrowed, his voice rising in frustration. “Then why did you drag me here in the first place? You know I can’t stand this stuff!”
Arcy crossed his arms, his cheeks flushing with anger. “Because it’s not just about you, Alex! We needed things, and I thought you could try to enjoy it. But no, you always have to make everything miserable!”
Alex scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, right, because waddling through a mall for hours is my idea of fun, right.”
Arcy just let out a loud groan and rolled his eyes, deciding to keep his mouth shut.
Arcy just let out a loud groan and rolled his eyes, deciding to keep his mouth shut. He was just so over it, and didn’t feel like getting into an argument at this point —even if it was all Alex’s fault in the first place. Arcy had done his best to make his boyfriend happy. It wasn’t his fault that Alex was just being an asshole.
He was about to say something else, just to not let Alex feel like he won the argument, but a tingling sensation took over in his chest, and then, Arcy felt a warm, wet spot forming right at his nipples. He stared down at his breasts, confused, taking his fingers to run them along the damp spots in the fabric. Fuck, he was leaking.
"Damn it…" Arcy mumbled under his breath, feeling his face heat up.
He looked around them, seeing if anyone was staring at them, but thankfully the parking lot was almost empty.
It was the first time that happened to him in public, and thank god he was wearing black clothes. He couldn't stand the odd looks people would give him when they saw his gravid stomach, let alone if they saw that he had wet spots on his chest. Arcy was glad there were no people around to see him struggling to get into the car like a beached whale.
He wasn't sure, but Arcy had the suspicion that Alex took the bumpiest road home. With every shift and jolt of the car, Arcy's body felt more and more uncomfortable, and his boobs ached from all the bouncing. The wet spots of milk just kept on growing larger, unable to stop the milk from leaking.
It was going to be a long ride home.
***
“What are you doing?”
Arcy’s words should have come out more decided, a bit more meaner than they actually did. But as Alex opened his legs further apart and positioned himself between his thighs with no advice, Arcy had to admit that it indeed turned him on a bit. Just a tiny bit.
The first thing he did when he got home was get shirtless, and then, plop himself on the couch with his feet propped up the coffee table. He wasn't in the mood for anything else after their little escapade at the mall, and after the disaster his shirt turned into, it felt best to just hang out around the house naked.
To Alex, seeing his boyfriend naked, sprawled like that on the couch, was an invitation. A clear invitation. And Alex already had an idea in mind about what he wanted to do.
The idea came to him a few days ago, when he read something on a webpage, and it didn't want to leave his mind. He wasn't sure how to bring it up to Arcy, and if this wasn't the right timing he didn't think it would ever be.
Alex moved Arcy's arms, crossed against his naked chest, away, and started to kiss his way up Arcy’s bare chest, slowly leaving distracted kisses on his round stomach. Beneath him, he could feel Arcy's body squirming, suppressing a moan.
"Hey, get off…!" Arcy whimpered, not really making an effort to pull away from him. "I don't wanna"
But his hands went around Alex's neck, keeping him close as Alex finally reached one of his nipples, and slowly wrapped his lips around it, teasing and sucking hard enough that Arcy had to grit his teeth together. He moaned when Alex's fingers started circling his other nipple, rubbing and circling the tender skin.
When Alex finally stopped for breath, Arcy's breath hitched. He leaned forward, trying to catch some kind of attention from his boyfriend's lips again.
Alex went back to his nipple, biting and sucking harshly, before switching the pattern to his other boob, alternating between sucking and caressing each nipple, massaging Arcy's chest. When Arcy's hands tightened around his neck again, he smirked.
It was odd, because what should have been borderline painful and annoying to Arcy, his sensitive breasts being groped like that, sucked on, wasn't being annoying at all. He could feel his pussy throbbing and the arousal starting to rise in his body.
He felt his cheeks heating up, shame rising in his chest at the idea that he was probably about to cum from this.
Actually, Arcy was sure that he was just about to cum. He was right there, didn't even need to slide his hand between his legs to feel how wet he was.
He felt Alex's hand take one of his boobs in its grasp, and then squeeze hard. A loud moan escaped Arcy's throat, and his hips buckled forward, his hand gripping Alex's hair to pull his head closer to his chest. Alex took it like a command, using his tongue to play with Arcy's erect nipple in his mouth before he went once again suctioning.
A second later, Arcy's knees felt weak as a stream of milk burst out of him as Alex sucked, and an orgasm washed over him. He fell back onto the cushions, his back arching as he let out a loud moan, his hand grabbing Alex's hair. His eyes fluttered open, watching as Alex continued to suck and lick clean the milk spilling off him.
Arcy was left lying in a daze, panting heavily as his heart pounded in his ears. Well, that was something.
“Mhm…" Alex hummed in response, lifting his head to stare at Arcy, resting his hands on his bump. "Looks like we found a solution to your… leaking problem," he whispered lowly, kissing the underside of his stomach.
Yes, there was definitely a solution there.
***
Arcy was craving, in the sense of fucking needing it, some coffee.
He wouldn't have thought that the craving for coffee could be stronger than the annoyance he felt with the world when being this pregnant, just about to pop —in fact, just a day before being overdue— but it was. But they didn’t have decaf coffee at home.
But he had stopped feeling like crap, finally, and he had to make the most out of it. So yes, he pestered Alex until he agreed to take him for some coffee, even when Alex didn’t think it was a good idea to get out of the house at all.
Since he entered his last trimester, Alex hovered over him like a dog, watching his every move as if worried Arcy could break at any moment. He wasn't going to break, but he could pop at any moment. Having 6'2" of fur and muscle on top of him all the time was annoying.
Today Arcy wasn’t feeling like shit, per se, but he was still feeling odd.
He just felt…odd. First, he felt full. Full of the huge pup that Alex put in him. Then, he was sensitive, hot, and bothered, everywhere. None of those were new, but in the last few days, Arcy reached new levels of being in discomfort he didn’t imagine were possible.
He felt like he was going to pop any second, the pup weighing him down and the overall feeling of his body that could barely stand being fully clothed. It was almost hell to exist pregnant and in the summertime. And not to mention the relentlessness of the pup inside of him, always moving and turning and kicking, and the cramps.
Those were the worst, always happening at the worst moment, turning his already poor tummy into a tense, solid thing that always made him stop right in his tracks. They weren’t painful, and Arcy was sure they weren’t contractions, but god were they insufferable.
So when that morning he woke up feeling brand new and with a few, spaced cramps that were barely noticeable, it seemed like a good idea to go get some coffee and enjoy the sunny day.
Now, as he waited in what seemed the longest line in history, he was starting to regret his decision.
His hands were busy cradling his tense stomach, trying to lift some of the weight straining his back. Arcy was feeling so irritated. About everything, not only about the waiting line. The people were being too loud, it was hot in there —he was starting to sweat—, his clothes felt tight wrapping around his body.
He was about to mentally go over all of the things that were annoying him, just to double check, when a sharp cramp shot through the base of his stomach and his lower back, making Arcy frown.
“Fuck…” he muttered, breathing through his nose.
Breathe in, breathe out.
That was a contraction. As much as Arcy tried to convince himself it wasn’t, that was a contraction. He tried to play it off as the occasional cramps, but now the ‘occasional cramps’ had been coming consistently and being more and more painful since they went out of the house.
It wasn’t fair that his day was ruined by it, and it wasn’t fair that his body would mess with him like that, making him feel great and the next second, like crap. He was so mad at himself, that he tried to pretend the contractions weren’t there as much as possible. But now, as his swollen feet and achy back from standing in the same place for minutes were starting to take a toll on him, it was harder to ignore it.
Arcy turned around towards the windows by his side, squinting his eyes as he looked for Alex’s car outside, but he couldn't see it. Well, at least he wasn’t there to give him the ‘told you so’ stare.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed since his last contraction, but he was now closer to the cashier, barely, but they were getting there. God, he didn’t realize how claustrophobic the shop was when he first walked in, how small and cramped it was. Now, it seemed as if everyone were pressing together against everyone, and all the people making their way out of the store would bump into him, most of them, without looking back twice and saying sorry.
Arcy cursed out loud the next time his stomach tensed. A few people in front of him turned to give him nasty looks, but most of the world was engrossed in their phones or with their attention elsewhere. He was glad, the last thing he needed right now was people looking at him.
He was almost halfway there, mentally going over his order, when another contraction hit him. His hands gripped at the base of his stomach, and his legs trembled, and Arcy bit his lip to contain a low moan that threatened to escape his throat. He focused on breathing as normally as possible, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but his hitched breath caught the attention of some of the people.
Well, fuck, it was going worse than he predicted.
When he finally could stand up straighter after the pain subsided, Arcy thought that if he couldn’t get to the bloody counter in the next five minutes, he was going home. As soon as he thought that, the cashier lifted his head from behind the counter and his eyes found Arcy’s. The cashier’s eyes traveled from his face towards his abdomen.
“She’s pregnant,” the cashier said, pointing with his finger to Arcy. “Come on here, you have priority, I’ll take your order.”
He felt his face was burning when people turned to look at him. They moved around to let him go, and every step was almost painful as he made his way to the counter. He wanted nothing more than to correct the cashier and tell him that she was a he, but fuck, if he stood there for a second more he was going to kill someone.
As soon as he made it to the counter, a contraction took over him again, his breath coming out harshly through his teeth and his stomach tensing. Arcy gripped the counter with both his hands, knuckles turning white, as he tried to play it off.
“Uh… mhm” he breathed, aware that he probably looked weird right now, “Just… Can I get a cup of decaf latte, please? And… fuck… and an Americano. To go”
The muscles of his stomach were on fire, and Arcy had to bite his lip as the cashier turned around to start with his order.
“Can I get you anything else?" The cashier asked when he handed him the stuff. "We have fresh chocolate buns…"
It seemed like every word that came out of the cashier’s mouth would drag on forever. He didn’t hear a single one else as his eyes traveled behind the cashier, staring at the chocolate buns, and as his stomach contracted again. He could feel the skin tensing under the palm of his hand, and Arcy was sure that his face was red with the effort he was making to not let any other sound escape his lips as he shook his head. His bun in the oven was fucking ready to come out, he thought.
The walk to the exit was a walk of shame. Arcy didn't realize how low the pup was inside of him. The huge head was now crashing against his pelvis, slowly opening him up, and his walk had turned into a pathetic waddle. He was trying to control his body as much as he could, to walk straight, but with the weight of the baby and his tensing stomach, it was almost impossible.
He had the sensation that everyone was staring at him. And he had the idea that everyone was pitying the miserable, gravid girl making her way out of the coffee shop, an expectant mother trying to make it in the last stretch of her pregnancy.
The fresh air of the street offered him a momentary relief, but it washed off as soon as he realized that he still had to walk towards the car. He thought that it shouldn't be that hard to get there, but then another contraction hit and Arcy had to grasp the wall by his side for support, his legs quivering beneath him as his stomach tensed, the most painful one he had felt at the moment.
"Shit…!" Sweat rolled down the sides of his forehead as the contraction passed. "Fuck," he wheezed, taking another minute to catch his breath. "Come on…"
A few paces later he was able to walk normally again. When he finally reached the car and climbed in, with a low groan as he pulled himself in the passenger's seat. The shift in his gravity center when he slumped against the passenger's seat, the pup crashing down on his hips like a bowling ball, made him whimper out loud.
Alex gave him an odd look as he started the engine. "You alright?" he wondered, raising his brow.
Arcy gave him a nod as he shifted in his seat, trying to find a position where the pressure would be more bearable, but there really wasn’t anything that could help him in this state. It was all coming over him now, the realization that he thought he could outsmart his own body and pretend the baby wasn't coming yet. And he was wrong.
"Fuck…" Arcy huffed out again, resting his head on the window."Don't worry about me," he mumbled, his hand caressing the side of his stomach. "Don't… worry about me. All good- let's get home."
"Yeah," Alex nodded, taking a sip of his coffee before leaving it on the cupholder. "We just have to go to the store real quick…"
Arcy closed his eyes and pressed his head back as another contraction took over him, biting his lips as he pressed his hips down on the seat, trying to escape the pain.
"Alex, we have to get home." Arcy muttered, opening his eyes once again."Now."
Even if he couldn’t see him, he knew Alex was rolling his eyes, and the werewolf let out a groan before he turned his head to face Arcy. "We got your coffee, now don't be a fucking brat and…"
"Alex…!" When the contraction reached its peak, Arcy whimpered, "We need to go home right now. F…fuck, this baby is coming. Now."
When Alex turned to face him fully, he saw the exact moment when the realization hit. Then, he saw the exact moment when Alex gave him the I told you so look. A groan escaped Arcy's throat, both because of annoyance and because of the sudden burst of pain.
"Oh shit," Alex gritted his teeth, "Yeah. Not gonna say I told you so, but I told you so."
Arcy was about to reply, but the next wave caught him completely off guard. It was like somebody had just taken a sledgehammer to his gut, and he couldn't do shit other than gasp as his body convulsed and his legs forced themselves apart, trying to find space for his contracting stomach to go. Then, Arcy let out a quiet "shit" as he felt a sudden flow of water coming from between his legs, staining his pants and leaking to the seat.
He shifted, looking between his legs, and he couldn't help but let out another moan. Arcy didn't even turn to face Alex as he started driving, because yes, Alex was right, again.
***
Now that he was in the privacy of his living room, he could allow himself to moan and wail as freely as he wanted, as well as he could give himself the freedom of not wearing any clothes. Whenever he looked down, all he could see was the gravid, tense, and stretched skin of his contracting stomach, and his sore and sensitive breasts, swollen and starting to leak.
The baby's head was right there, pushing behind his lips, he could feel the way his pussy was bulging almost obscenely around it.
"Can you feel it?" Arcy croaked as Alex's hand cupped his pussy, "Shit, shit, shit… it burns!"
"Yes," Alex nodded, his free hand moving to rest on his stomach. "Push with the next contraction."
Arcy swallowed, trying to fight back a moan, as he tried to focus on what he was doing instead of feeling the baby starting to stretch him open. It was bigger than he anticipated, and shit, it was more painful than what he anticipated.
As if he could read his mind, Alex patted his stomach.
"C'mon, you can do this," the werewolf mumbled, remaining quiet when Arcy's stomach contracted under his palm, staring as his boyfriend's eyes went shut, focusing on pushing. "Listen to your body. It was made for this, wasn't it?"
The tone wasn't mockery itself, but Arcy was sure there was an ironic remark to it. And it filled him both with pride and shame. Making Alex proud made him proud, for carrying his pup so well. But it was so embarrassing that Alex was right: this, right here and now, was exactly what his body was made for.
"All women know how to do this, Arcy" Alex stated calmly, "Just go with it. Push."
His stomach contracted and Arcy squatted down, gripping with both hands at the couch back, and pushed. He gritted his teeth when the pup's head slid outside further, stretching his pussy even more open, and his knees trembled, trying to close in reflex. Alex's hand on his thigh kept his legs open.
Another grunt escaped his lips as the contraction went away, and the pup's head slid back inside a bit. Arcy let his head fall back in frustration. "Fuck," he mumbled.
Another one came shortly after, and once again Arcy gripped the couch as he bore down and pushed, his face contorted in pain. Soon, the pup's head slid out, reaching the ring of fire. Arcy shouted, his legs trembling as he shifted his hips in the air, trying to escape the burning feeling between his legs.
"C'mon girl," Alex whispered, his hand stroking Arcy's belly, cupping the pup's head. "Keep pushing."
Another contraction came. Arcy felt how his muscles tensed against his back as the pain became unbearable, and he squatted even further, shaking his head as if it could make the pain go away. He felt hot and tense, and the pressure between his legs was hell, he just couldn't wait until this was over and his pup was in his arms.
With his next push, the head was finally out with a splash of amniotic fluid. His body shook as he leaned forward and supported himself on the couch, feeling Alex's hand firmly on his leg to keep them from snapping closer. Almost there.
Another contraction, and then the pup's shoulders were fully out, and a long whine escaped Arcy, his knuckles going white, his eyes squeezed shut. He focused on pushing, trying to ignore the burning sensation between his legs, and with his next effort, the body was fully out.
Alex helped him steady himself before he guided the pup to Arcy's chest, where he placed it gently. And Arcy felt a sudden sense of relief wash over his whole being, his heart beating rapidly and his muscles relaxing.
"Good job, Momma," Alex praised, wiping sweat from his face. "Good girl. You did it. I told you so."
Yes, Alex told him so. And he was right, Arcy thought, smiling slightly at his pup.
#birth kink#pregnancy#labor#birth denial#DNPwrites#commission#commissions#story#pregnancy fantasy#mpreg#labor kink#stories#tmpreg#ftm misgendering#furry#furry oc#furry art#dom/sub#sub/dom#bd/sm brat#misgender kink#misgendering#detrans#ftm birth#ftm puppy#pregnancy kink#pregnant man#pregnant kink#labor denial (sort of)
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Real men are upset when called a woman; you just get wet.
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Logan x Trans!MaleReader
Reblogged from my writing blog
Summary: Being a mutant was hard enough as it is, but being on trans on top of that. Well, you might as well be cursed. Luckily Logan has your back when it counts the most.
Word Count: 2.1k
Tags: misgendering, dysphoria, transphobia, comforting, fluff, slurs
You were in charge of the supply run for the school this week. It was always strange carrying around Charles’ credit card, over the years he had been able to invest in stocks- knowing when they would dip and rise, he had amassed money from government funding and social projects, as well as working many jobs over the decades he has been alive so he had more than enough money to provide for all of the children at his school, but still the sum baffled you.
But if it meant that the school could stay stocked and at the highest capacity to care for the children, and the teachers living in the school then you didn’t think on it too hard.
You went about grabbing what you needed by the handful and stocking your trolley. Even grabbing a few extra things for you and Logan. Any time you had been on shift to go for the supply run you made sure to grab some extra snacks for Logan and you to keep in your room. You grabbed a bag of Skittles for yourself and some Recess cups for Logan (you had no idea how he could stand eating those).
As you were grabbing some breakfast cereals to stock the cabinet with you overheard a group of people whispering behind you. You turned and out of the corner of you eye saw them pointing at you as they continued to talk
“Why does she look like that? She looks like some cringe teenager?”
“Who does she think she’s fooling with that hair cut?”
“She was probably in prison and is growing it out”
Their voices were hushed but sounded like thunderclaps in your ears
She
She
She
You dropped the box of cereal you were holding, it made a skittering sound as it crunched on the floor. Your heart rate increased as their words reverberated around your mind, your chest tightening and not from your binder. Why today?
“Young miss? You dropped this” A middle-aged lady come into your view as you stared at the box on the floor, its bright logo staring you in the face. It’s mascot smiling gleefully. Her hand came into view as she picked up the box and handed it back to you. Trying to snap your self out of your downwards spiral you smiled sheepishly at her but the smile didn’t meet your eyes.
“Thank you” you took the box and shoved it into your cart. She smiled back at you and continued with her own shopping
The group from before were now snickering at you, before you could grab the last box you needed and head to the checkout the tallest boy in the group threw a packet of biscuits at you and said “Hey tranny, shouldn’t you be in the circus or something?”
The whole group laughed but you just stared. You turned around to face them, glaring them down with as much hate you could muster. All of it was controlled like a grenade ready to explode, the blast steadily building with each second passing as the chemical reaction grew inside the chamber.
Right now, it was anger, bubbling and building but never exploding. All the rage being pent up as you walked towards the checkout. Your feet felt heavy, your footsteps echoing more than last time as you stomped down the isles. Your heart beat fiercely but you looked on blankly, your eyes seeing but not processing what was in front of you. You just wanted to get out of here and get home. Go back to the school and hide away.
Deep down you just wanted to be seen. Being a mutant was hard enough as it was, having to keep a secret from the world and everyone who would ever know you outside of the school. And now, no matter how hard you tried the world still didn’t see you how you were. As a young boy, just like any other human.
But you weren’t, you weren’t and you would never be. Because society decided to define you based on your internal organs and bone structure. Just thinking about it made you irritated. That notion occupied your thoughts quite often and it angered you, all this hate and bigotry towards a group of people because they were simply different. Why did everyone else get to decide your fate? Why did they get to decide who you were and who you were supposed to be? It was bullshit.
As you drove back to the school you anger leaked out. It showed in the whites of your knuckles as you gripped the steering wheel. In the crease at the top of your nose in between your two brows. In the speedometer on your car screaming higher and higher as you broke the speed limit two times over, your foot flat to the floor on the pedal.
As you pulled into the gravel driveway the car screeched to a stop as you cut the ignition and yanked of your seat belt, opening the door with more force than necessary and slamming it shut with equal strength.
You began grabbing bags out of the trunk and bringing them to the kitchen. Leaving them with a few of the kids who smiled and thanked you as they began unpacking the bags you placed on the bench. Their smiles were genuine and warm as they helped you put the items away. You went back for the last bag and as you shut the boot and took a step away from your car you turned and came face to face with Logan. Almost bumping directly into him. You jumped and almost dropped the bag
“Jesus Logan, we need to get you a bell or something”
He chuckled but looked playfully disgusted by the idea.
“I’m not a cat” he laughs at you
“Well you already have the ears and the claws” you say pointing at the curls in his hair.
He laughs and gives you a punch in the arm as he reaches forward to take the bag from your hand. But you don’t let him take it. Usually you would have let him help you but today you didn’t.
It was stupid really, the reason you held onto he bag. The masculine clique of being strong and being able to provide had entered your mind on the way home, all the overcompensating masculine cliques imaginable had played out in your mind as you tried to combat the dysphoria that was consuming your brain.
He tilted his head at you when you pulled away from him but he didn’t press you any further. He walked along side you as you took the last of the groceries to the kitchen and put them away with the help of the few kids that were still unpacking the bags. You moved through the kitchen in a whir, putting things in their place at record time and then depositing the bags back into your car before walking back inside.
Now with nothing to do you felt to wired, to unoccupied. You didn’t want to talk about what was on your mind. You were to mad about. But slowly that anger began to dissolve. The feeling hollowing out your chest, taking up space and crushing your organs.
You had managed to evade Logan in your flurry around the kitchen, not that you meant to but you just weren’t thinking. Your mind was so full but blank. Like TV screen playing static. Numbly you walked to your shared room with Logan, you pulled off your shirt and looked at yourself in the mirror with your binder on. There was a slight pudge out the arm holes from the extra weight your binder couldn’t hold. You didn’t get it. You looked like a boy, like any other man you might have seen on the street. So how did they know? How were you still being misgendered? The thought made you angry again and you glared at yourself in the mirror, getting mad at your own face for betraying you. You pulled your binder up over your head. But because you hadn’t been careful to pull up from the arms first it got stuck, with your arms caught at an awkward angle
You tried to grab at the binder but couldn’t pull it up and over your head. You heard a knock on the door, and you ducked out of view, turning around so that your back faced the door as Logan’s voice accompanied the previous knocking. “Hey, you good?”
You sigh frustratedly, how was this the third time this week you had been caught like this “No…I’m stuck, again”
The door opened and clicked shut quickly as you heard Logan walk up behind you.
“Trying to get it off, or back on?”
You contemplated telling him you were putting it back on, but you had been wearing it for 6 hours already and you ribs were hurting, you knew you were pushing your limits. You sighed and told him to help you take it off.
Gently he grabbed onto the fabric and pulled it over your head, making sure to keep his hands away from your skin as much as possible as he freed you from your predicament.
You snatched your hoodie off the end of your bed and pulled it back on. Adjusting it so your body underneath was hidden, and your curved figure became blocked out and flatter.
He looked at you as you adjusted you hoodie with a sad and now knowing smile on his face.
“What happened” he asked softly
You stopped fussing with your shirt and you looked at him. All the anger from before was completely gone, and instead, the was replaced with the sting of sadness and the feeling of tears welling up behind your eyes.
You bit the inside of your cheek hoping that it would deter the tears in your eyes, but it didn’t. You didn’t know how to explain it, you didn’t want to say it to him. You felt pathic and you were embarrassed, but your heart ached.
It shouldn’t have bothered you but it did, and you didn’t know how to tell him
“Why don’t they see me” you couldn’t explain what had happened but you didn’t need to. He got the gist of it.
He pulled you forward into him softly, holding you against him and locking his arms around your back. Keeping you pressed closed to his chest. Your head resting right over his heart. The organ beating rhythmically and acting as a metronome that was grounding you.
The sound of his life brought you calmly back to earth, bringing you here into the moment, pulling you out of the hole you had been spiralling down. His deep long breaths added to the grounding atmosphere that he had created between the two of you. Those negative feelings were slowly fading away from you, the same way that mud and filth dripped down your fingers as you washed your hands clean of it.
It fell away from you and left you feeling clearer, lighter and calmer.
You closed your eyes and breathed deeply following the rhythm he set naturally and took it in, leaving behind the past hour and reveling in the comfort of this moment. Appreciating every moment you could take with him, basking in the glow that radiated from him whenever the two of you were together.
And in this moment, everything faded away except the two of you. And all of that pain and anger and fear melted away.
He placed a kiss on the strands of your hair and then rested his chin on your head.
“You will always be one of the strongest, most capable men I’ve ever met. And anyone who doesn’t see that is a joke”
You pulled away so you could look at him, and your eyes softened, you could see the pure unbridled love in his face as he looked at you. He cupped your face and pulled you in for a kiss, and that last bit of negativity slipped away from you.
Who cared about what other thoughts of you, they didn’t know you and they didn’t matter. Logan knew you, and he loved you however you were. He would never let you forget that because when he had met you at Charles’ school there was no doubt in his mind that you were the most beautiful man he had ever seen.
And that feeling never changed, each time he saw you no matter what state you were in or what you were wearing, each and every time, you would always be beautiful.
It didn’t matter what your body looked like under your clothes; it didn’t matter what society said you were supposed to be. All that you were, in its truest form, was more than he could have ever asked for in a partner. It didn’t matter to him that you were transgender because you were you. And that was enough for him, he hoped one day that you would be enough for you too.
This one goes out to all of my trans brothers out there, keep fighting boys. You've made it this far you can keep going!
And once again, I take requests. If you would like a one shot like this one or any of my other works then send me an ask!
#writers#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writing#writerscommunity#creative writing#writer stuff#ao3 writer#logan howlett#logan howlett x male reader#james howlett#james logan howlett#logan james howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett xmen#wolverine#wolverine xmen#wolverine x male reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#comfort#fluff#misgendering#slurs#dysphoria#comfort from dysphoria#transgender#ftm#trans
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fakeboy who gets hired at a ren faire thinking he’ll be a knight or a jester, but he’s actually been cast as a prostitute for the fully-functional, period accurate brothel, where he’ll be playing the role of “unwilling naive girl forced into prostitution out of desperation”. and she won’t even have to act!
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Anon's left-leaning roommate once changed anon's pronouns on a sign to they/them even though anon is cis and uses she/her pronouns. She's curious if other people have encountered things like this.
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We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.
#polls#incognito polls#anonymous#tumblr polls#tumblr users#questions#polls about lgbtq stuff#submitted may 20#gender#misgendering
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I think it's interesting how every time a transphobe doesn't like what I have to say my pronouns get stripped from me and I become a "they," especially since I've said on repeat since 2010 that I find the pronoun "they" offensive and misgendering, before I even identified as trans I hated being referred to as a "they," because it's so tied to the transphobic degendering I have experienced since I id'd as a dude crossdresser. Now it's not even normal ass transphobes doing it, but supposedly people trying to "defend" trans people, dumbasses like velvetvexations or every transandrophobia believer have decided I dont deserve to have my gender respected. How are they different from the transphobes we rally against if two letters is harder than four for them? But what am I to expect from the bioessentialist terf rhetoric spewing haters.
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