If I can take a moment to share my experience as a trans woman on the internet
My experience is by no means unique, it's just one experience in the plethora of trans feminine experiences and not unique to only tumblr. Though, I'll mostly talk about what I've experienced here. In the light of recent events, the reaction of "the ceo," and the comments he contributed regarding dog pile harassment; I simply wish to share my experiences that I have had to juxtapose the dynamic of his statements against a lived experience.
This account started as a way to document my social transition and eventually my journey with HRT. Tumblr had always had a large lgbtqia+ community. The queer people here inspired me and gave me hope. What I didn't know, but soon learned, is that there were people here who hated me for being trans. Being early in my transition I was a prime target. TERF groups would plan raids on my account. What this entailed was: rebloging my selfies into circles that would say the most vile things about me, threaten to kill, tell me I was ugly, tell me that everyone I knew thought I was a joke, I was a monster, my family hated me, that I should kill myself, they'd download and edit my photos into caricatures or depictions of violence. They would fill my ask box with hundreds of asks detailing how they'd kill me, call me slurs, describe the ways that I should kill myself, and pretty much everything else I mentioned above with the reblogs. Their words were carefully curated to try and break me, break my spirit, break my will to live. I tried reporting it. But it was impossible to keep up with, and like many others I saw no real response. Eventually I learned that I had to block all of them. 100's of blogs, eventually 1000's of blogs. My block list these days is incredibly extensive. I had to wade through their blogs, traverse sickening hate speech and imagery to eliminate entire circles of people harassing me. I became jaded to the hate speech, hardened to it. But mind you, I shouldn't have had to expose myself to all of this just to be at peace here amongst my community. I received no help, I was left to my own devices to protect myself. The people who hurt me never saw consequences. It was painful, it was unfair, and no one else should have to put the hours upon hours of effort and exposure to hate in to protect themselves like I did. But again my experience is not unique.
I have had to repeat this process of preemptive blocking periodically once a new circle discovers me. Blocking them all before they can start the process of hate all over again. A process of hate that seems to be hitting my community with rapidly increasing fervor as of late.
I've seen others experience far worse than me. The TERF circles will hunt down their personal information and doxx them. Expose their home address, telephone numbers, names of their family members. I can't begin to imagine the terror my queer siblings must feel when someone tells then that they want to murder them all while showing them that they know where you live. This is not a new thing, not a rare tactic, it happens. And we've all seen the news stories of trans people being murdered by people who planned it and were vocal about it.
I know this is depressing. And it doesn't reflect all of my experiences. I've had wonderful experiences here, met amazing people, made close friends, found inspiration, found hope. I found a community.
And it's my community, and I never want to let it go.
I do have fear that making this statement will get me banned. But, I wanted to say it. I wanted it to exist in the world so that everyone who doesn't know our experiences has a chance to understand and with luck empathize.
I'll part on these words and hope for the best both for myself and for every member of the community.
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Despair of Your Discovery
Phic phight fill for @carelisswriting. I am so sorry.
(Relevant warnings are tagged below)
**********
“Oh my god,” Danny says, horrified. “That’s…oh my god.”
The plant looks very innocent amongst the rows and rows of lush green pots in Sam’s greenhouse.
It isn’t.
“You cannot tell anyone,” Sam hisses, and shoves the wicker harvest basket back over the bush, as if there was anyone safe to tell! “Not a word. Not a whisper.”
“This is bad. This is really, really bad.”
“I know!” Sam snaps, looking two steps away from a screaming freakout. “But what can I even do with it?!”
The answer seems obvious. “Get rid of it?!” Danny exclaims, throwing his arms out for additional emphasis. “Making sure there isn’t any evidence left??”
“By what, burning it?!”
Danny opens his mouth to affirm the obvious— only to realize there is another, equally as obvious problem with the usual method of extermination.
“...Put it in the trash?” Danny tries again, grimacing. He crosses his arms, taps his toes. “I mean. It’ll go out eventually.”
“And if someone sees it in the trash?!” Sam volleys back, eyes wide with furious distress.
Okay. There's a clear problem here. All they need is a solution.
Tucker wanders into the greenhouse; he probably found out that they weren’t in Sam’s room and figured out their second location pretty quickly. “Hey, Sam; hey Danny. I thought we were doing Doomed today?”
“We’re not,” Sam and Danny chorus.
Tucker frowns. His eyes go back and forth between them. “...Is everything good?”
“No,” Sam says, cutting off Danny’s: “Sam stole another plant from the school garden again.”
“Oh. Is that all?”
Sam throws herself over the wicker basket and grooooooooans.
“Apparently someone was experimenting,” Danny offers flatly. “It’s bad.”
“How can a plant be bad?”
Sam straightens herself up, makes dead-on eye contact, and lifts the basket.
“Is that WEED?!” Tucker yelps. Danny immediately darts over to slap a hand over Tucker’s mouth, and the basket gets slammed back on top of the plant.
“Don’t shout!”
“Shouting is merited!! Sam grew drugs!!”
“On accident!!” Sam shouts back, very, very pale. “They just left the sprouts in the garden shed without any light or water!! I had to do something!!”
“Saaaaaamm,” Tucker groans, which is pretty unmerited, considering that Sam is probably the person suffering the most here. “Sam, we have to do something!"
“I know, I know!!”
“We know you hate pesticides, but isn’t there…some kind of natural weed killer? Or something?” Danny tries, struggling to think it through. “You can’t hand-pull all your weeds in this greenhouse. It’s massive.”
Sam bites her lip. She doesn’t answer.
“Sam…”
“It’s a waste of plant life to kill it,” Sam whispers. Her two best friends groan out loud, angled in two different directions.
“Sam. It’s illegal. You’ve got to get rid of it.” Tucker’s logic is cold, and brazen.
“...Fine.”
The procedure for killing off a plant the organic way is apparently pretty simple; vinegar, salt, and sunlight. The plant is looking dead and crispy under the glow lights in Sam’s greenhouse in less than an hour; by tomorrow, it’ll be long gone.
“We can never tell anyone this happened,” Danny decides, for obvious reasons. Tucker nods solemnly.
Sam sniffles a little, mascara running. Danny gently rubs her back.
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The Beginning
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Description: Gene just wants to have a smoke on school grounds but you, a Student Council member, particularly take an issue with this.
Pairing: PDH!Gene x Reader.
WC: 2.4K
Content Warning: Smoking; Swearing; Implicit SA framing.
!!READER DISCRESION IS ADVISED!!
╰─..★.──────────╯
Leaning back against the wall, Gene tucks his lighter into his pocket and takes a drag of his cigarette. With the fall playoff season just around the corner, the teachers and hall monitors of Phoenix Drop High have become lenient with students leaving class early. It makes it extremely easy for the boy to slip in and out of the school with no consequence - and with how slowly classes move through material, only Irene knows how bored Gene can get. He’s finally starting to remember why school is such a drag.
A bell rings from inside the school and Gene naturally checks the time on his phone. It’s the five minute warning bell; not that Gene intends to go to his next class. He’s perfectly content staying out of sight and out of mind.
As Gene takes another slow puff of his cigarette, his attention is drawn to the sound of footsteps. Shit. He didn’t think anyone would waste their time sweeping the perimeter of the school when they had their little sport teams to worry about. Not in the mood to receive a lecture, the boy prepares to put out his cigarette. That’s until he sees that it’s a student who has rounded the corner.
At first he doesn’t recognize the person who stands before him, but the look on their face as they approach sparks familiarity. It’s you.
Gene feels a frown begin to pull at his lips. His conversations with you have always been brief (and under dubious circumstances) but you’re not the kind of person he wants to deal with right now. Council members like you are always stuck up and self righteous; even more so than the teachers. Gene’s point is only proved right when you place yourself right in front of him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
“Smoking on school grounds is prohibited.” You state, your gaze briefly snapping down to the cigarette Gene has in his mouth.
“And?”
“And it causes significant damage to your health.”
“It does?” Gene scoffs and takes another huff of his cigarette, blowing the smoke at your face. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest little thing to tell me that.”
Gene attempts to blow another puff of smoke at you but you pluck the cigarette from his mouth and crush it with the heel of your shoe. It’s not unlike Council members to be so uptight about following school rules but Gene has never taken you for someone so confrontational. Something about that would be amusing if it wasn’t so damn annoying.
“The hell’d you do that for? That brand ain’t cheap, you know.” Gene scowls. When you don’t immediately reply the boy takes a step forward, grabbing your wrist and holding you in place. You instinctively twitch away but don’t really try to run. “Destroying someone else’s stuff is real mean. You ought to make it up to me somehow. Let’s say twenty bucks and we call it square.”
“Really? That much for a single cigarette?” Your voice comes out strained; as if you’re pushing out every single word you say. “Damn delinquent…”
“What was that?”
You frown and turn away. “Fine. I’ll pay you back at the end of the day, so meet me at the Student Council room when classes are over.”
“See? Was that so hard?” The boy grins down at you as you jerk your wrist away from his grip. You roll your eyes as you adjust your uniform, retreating from Gene almost immediately. The boy can’t help but let his eyes drag across your form as you begin walking away.
Gene doesn’t really like Student Council members, but he does seem to like you. It’s the only logical reason to explain why he’s so willing to go along with your terms. As soon as the school day is out and classes are dismissed, Gene meets you exactly where you told him to. It isn’t until he’s standing right outside of the Council’s door that he realises how troublesome you are.
Several voices talk over one another; about what Gene doesn’t care to find out, but the boy realises that he agreed to your terms a bit too easily. He won’t let that happen a second time.
Instead of knocking Gene opts to let himself inside. The weight of the entire student council staring at him doesn’t phase him. Rather, he finds it amusing how the entirety of the Council scowls at his sudden appearance. Questions like ‘what are you doing’ and ‘why are you here’ are like music to Gene’s ears. It’s an especially sweet sound when your voice lulls over the rest and you clear the confusion in the air.
“Apologies everyone, but it seems I’ll have to cut today’s meeting short. We’ll take care of everything in relation to the upcoming school sports event tomorrow.”
Quiet murmurs of confusion ripple through the room but they don’t last long. The room clears quickly, with the final exiting Council member closing the door as they leave. It all but leaves Gene feeling a bit impressed.
“All that for me? How sweet.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” You quip in reply. The boy watches with curious eyes as you begin rearranging the desks in the room. The group of desks that were previously arranged to face each other are moved into two rows of five. “Did you know that there are four separate teacher lounges across the school? This room was supposed to be another lounge but the school board deemed it unnecessary because of its proximity to the teacher lounge on the floor above. We’re right underneath it, actually.”
“And why do I care?”
“It’s called small talk. Ever heard of it?” You sweep the perimeter of the room before retrieving a clipboard that had been hanging on the door behind Gene. There’s a slight click as you pull it off the door and your brows furrow. “Seeing as you’ve become so adept at avoiding the teachers to sneak around, I thought a delinquent like you would find it interesting that the ‘esteemed Student Council room’ was once a teacher’s lounge.”
Gene rolls his eyes, his patience quickly wearing thin. “How about you stop stalling and give me my money already?”
You cross the room with a quiet sigh, placing yourself on top of one of the desks and twisting how you sit so that you face Gene. Only one desk sits between you and Gene and you’ve elected to rest your feet on its edge. “Money? When did we ever agree to that?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, sweetheart.” Gene’s voice comes out in a low, irritated grumble. You, on the other hand, smile a pleasant sort of smile - one that only serves to make Gene’s blood boil. “What are your fellow Council members gonna think when they find out you’re a stupid little coward who goes back on your word?”
“Are you trying to threaten me?”
“You? The Council President? Never.” Gene remarks sarcastically as he steps further into the room. He rounds the desk where your feet are rested and leans forward, reveling in the way your gaze narrows when he catches you off guard. “What? Didn’t think I’d notice the way your little council members followed your every whim? I wonder what they’d think of their president if they knew your true character.”
At first you frown, but then you smile. And finally you laugh.
“I’ll give you this, delinquent. You’re more intelligent than you let on. A near perfect grade point average is almost unheard of for someone who skips out on class so much. Who would’ve thought that a bad boy who loves smoking behind the school and who goes around calling himself a ‘Shadow Knight’ actually does all his homework? Students like you are a troublesome bunch, but you’re also… useful. So lend me a hand.”
“Lend you a hand?” At first Gene thinks you’re joking, but he quickly realises that he’s wrong. “Not a chance.”
“Oh, I wasn’t asking. I was simply displaying the extent of my generosity.” You use your hands to support your weight as you lean back against the desk. “Do you know what kind of trouble the school will get into if a scandal of some sort were to occur? What a silly question, of course you do. And as Council President, I can’t just sit by and let troublesome students do as they wish. I need to ensure that all of them are… compliant.”
“Compliant?” Gene scoffs, nearly amused. “You call that psycho sophomore girl compliant?”
“Her? She knows her place. I’ve made sure of it.” You muse, tilting your head ever so slightly. “And now it’s your turn, Delinquent. It’s about time you learn your place.”
Now it’s Gene’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Gonna write me up for smoking or some shit?”
“That? Oh, no. That would only get you a slap on the wrist.” You lean forward with a coy smile. “You’re going to agree to the terms of my generosity because it’s what’s best for you. Unless you want to find yourself expelled.”
Before Gene has a chance to question you, you reach up and roughly grasp his loose tie and jerk him off the desk. Once the boy is standing you kick over the desk in front of you to send it crashing against the floor, quickly followed by you calling out for a teacher to help. Almost as if on cue, there’s scraping and the sound of scrambling feet - as if someone from upstairs put an abrupt halt to whatever they were just doing.
Up until now Gene would’ve called your actions the result of a temper tantrum, but your intentions suddenly become obvious when your grip on Gene’s tie tightens.
Gene tries to pull away from your grasp but your grip is surprisingly strong. As the footsteps from upstairs approach the door, their hand fumbles against the doorknob. The door wasn’t locked when he barged in earlier but the sound of the approaching teacher’s keys makes it obvious that’s not the case anymore.
Just as Gene opens his mouth to speak you pull him down to your level. He has to put his hands on either side of you to prevent himself from falling into you completely.
“Imagine what a teacher will think if the commotion they heard is followed up by the sight of an intimidating delinquent like you towering over the Student Council President.” You speak ever so softly, your breath hot against Gene’s ear. “Not to mention that the door was locked when they arrived. How hard would it be to convince them you had less than savoury intentions?”
“You wouldn’t…”
“I would.” You laugh sweetly against Gene’s neck, your laugh soft and breathy. If not for the circumstances Gene might’ve called your laugh addicting, but right now that was anything but the truth. “Watch me.”
Gene can feel his blood boiling at the way you’re so smug. He racks his brain for some kind of solution to this mess but he knows you have him beat. Through gritted teeth and clenched fists, Gene submits to your will.
“Fine.”
“What was that?”
“I said fine!”
Not a moment sooner that the door to the Student Council room flies open, you release your grip on Gene’s tie. The boy immediately makes distance between himself and you but that didn’t stop the teacher from catching a glimpse of what happened. Or rather, what you let them think was happening.
The teacher quickly places themself between you and Gene, though their attention is very obviously focused on you as they ask what happened.
You, in all your Student Council ways, smile in apology. Off the top of your head you weave a lie that appears to alleviate the teacher’s suspicions. It’s almost disgusting how quickly you managed to turn the tides in your favour, though Gene would be remiss to think that he ever had a chance against you in here.
You get off the hook with barely a slap on the wrist, leaving Gene a frustrated mess. He can hardly wipe the scowl that has etched its way onto his face. On the other hand, you seem completely and utterly satisfied.
“Don’t look so upset with me. It’s not like you got in trouble.” You remind Gene in some cruel attempt to soothe him. You reach forward to straighten his tie but Gene swats your hand away.
“Fuck off.” Gene growls and you comply, but not without a smug laugh.
“Alright, you don’t have to be so hostile.” You back away from Gene and pick the desk up off the floor. “But as for your compliance, there’s only one thing I need from you for now.”
“For now?” Repeats Gene but you show no signs of hearing his question.
You tap around on your phone until you finally come across what you’ve been looking for. You turn your screen toward Gene and he’s irritatingly met with a map of the school, but several spots around the perimeter have been highlighted with different colours.
“You have to abide by this outline if you’re ever trying to sneak a cigarette break during school hours.” You explain.
Gene scoffs. “As if I’d listen to any rule you give me after the shit you just pulled.”
“I think you’ll find that the places I’ve highlighted are already many of the places you and your ‘Shadow Knights’ have scoped out for your shenanigans. I know the patterns of the teachers and hall monitors as well as you do, so I think you’ll find that this request is perfectly reasonable.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You can’t.” You feign a sweet smile as an airdrop notification appears on Gene’s phone.
Gene accepts the image but not without rolling his eyes first. “You’re a real sweetheart, aren’t you?”
You laugh, pulling your school bag onto your shoulders as you make your exit. Just before you leave you shoot Gene a quick glance. It’s surprisingly soft. Gentle, even. Gene isn’t quite sure what to make of it but it feels… different. He thinks it’s unsettling to be honest, but that word alone isn’t enough to describe the emotional highs and lows you just forced on him.
Never the matter. If there’s one thing Gene knows for sure, it’s that people reap what they sow; and you’ve just sown a particularly bittersweet seed.
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