#the issue is accepting that you *need* it. the issue is acknowledging that you are overwhelmed with your life and cant do it on your own

[til-all-are-loved]

{This Charming Man Part 6}

MTMTE Megatron x Reader | SFW Word Count 2,464

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

The walk back to your chambers was quiet, the familiar thrum of  the quantum engines was absent– they had been powered down while the ship idled in orbit. 

You moved on instinct, your mind still on the conversation that had unfolded in the shuttle. The datapad rested in your hands, its weight a reminder of the confession Megatron had placed in your care.

Trust.

It wasn’t something he expected or deserved.

But he wanted it.

That was what unsettled you the most—not that he had given you something so deeply personal, but that you had accepted it without hesitation.

 Furthermore, it seemed he had only recently begun to see you as a person rather than an observer lurking in the background. The shift had been subtle at first—a glance held a moment longer, a conversation that stretched past necessity. But now, with the weight of his trust resting in your hands, the change felt undeniable.

You palmed open the door to your quarters. The overhead lights flickered on automatically, casting long shadows across the desk where your reports were written. 

You had admitted it before to yourself, in passing, but now the truth settled in—you were attracted to him. His voice, the deliberate way he carried himself, the way his optics lingered when you challenged him. You wanted to feel needed by him. It didn’t change anything. It couldn’t. But at least you could acknowledge it now.

Thoughts of your old colleagues crept in, unbidden. What would they say if they knew? To them, Megatron was a name synonymous with tyranny, his crimes etched into history like an immovable scar. They wouldn’t see what you saw—the quiet deliberation behind his words, the moments where his guard slipped just enough to reveal what he carried. They would call you compromised. Maybe you were. But what did it matter when the person they feared had already changed into something else—something still still dangerous, but captivating?

But beneath your defensiveness, something else stirred. Excitement. A strange, private thrill lit up your spirit, impossible to ignore. This wasn’t just a mission anymore. It was personal. You were seeing a side of Megatron few, if any, ever had. And for now, it was yours. Yours to process, yours to hold onto, yours to unravel at your own pace.

And the idea of that—of knowing something no one else did—felt intoxicating.

Your hands hovered over the keyboard, but you didn’t start typing.

Instead, you stared at the blank screen, the cursor blinking expectantly.

What was left to say?

You exhaled slowly, then let your fingers press against the keys.

Report to Earth Command – Month 18Ambassador’s Log

The situation aboard the Lost Light remains operationally stable. There have been no major incidents requiring intervention, and Megatron continues to adhere to the terms of his Autobot command. However, I must formally address a growing concern regarding my ability to provide an objective assessment.

You paused, your breath catching slightly at the admission forming on the screen. But you forced yourself to keep going.

Megatron continues to fulfill his role as co-captain of the Lost Light in accordance with the conditions outlined in his Autobot commission. There have been no recorded incidents of insubordination, nor any deviations from Autobot regulations. His command style remains structured, and his cooperation with the crew has been largely without issue.

However, this report seeks to address a developing concern regarding the integrity of this assessment and my ability to maintain impartiality.

Your fingers hesitated again.

He has displayed no outward signs of attempting to exert undue influence or revert to past authoritarian tendencies. Instead, he has exhibited a deliberate effort to engage in dialogue, accept criticism, and demonstrate accountability for his past actions.

This is not to suggest that the weight of his history has been erased, nor that his transition should be accepted without scrutiny. Rather, it is to acknowledge that his actions aboard the Lost Light contrast with the widely held perception of him as an immutable war criminal.

However, I must formally state that my capacity to provide an entirely unbiased report has become compromised. Prolonged exposure to his leadership, as well as direct engagement in discussions regarding his past and ideological evolution, has influenced my perception beyond strict observation. While I do not believe this has resulted in misrepresentation within prior reports, I can no longer guarantee that my assessments are entirely free from personal perspective.

You swallowed, staring at the words. They were damning, but they were honest.

Megatron remains compliant with Autobot leadership structures, and his conduct does not indicate any immediate threat or risk of recidivism. Continued monitoring is advised, but based on the data gathered, there is no evidence to suggest he is leveraging his position for subversive purposes.

However, due to the concerns outlined above regarding the potential for bias in my ongoing assessment, I defer to Earth Command’s judgment on whether my continued presence aboard the Lost Light remains the most effective course of action.

You hovered over the SEND command.

This was what Earth Command needed to know. That you were compromised. That someone else—someone without these entanglements—should take your place.

You set the data pad aside, pushing it further across your desk until it hit the edge of a stack of reports, half-buried beneath the paperwork you’d long neglected. Out of sight, out of mind. That business is done now. You had filed your report, voiced your concerns, and for tonight, at least, you weren’t going to dwell on it any longer.

You exhaled, stretching your arms over your head as you stood, joints popping after so long spent hunched over. The artificial lighting of your quarters buzzed softly overhead, casting the metallic walls in a dull, sterile glow. It wasn’t unpleasant, exactly, but it wasn’t warm, either. Like much of the Lost Light, your assigned living space was built for function over comfort. The ship’s engineers had done their best to replicate human accommodations, but in the end, it still felt like a small, self-contained habitat wedged inside a much larger space designed for Cybertronian scale.

Your “apartment” was nestled within what was originally meant to be a shared mech’s quarters—two massive recharge slabs on opposite sides of the room, with ceilings so high you could barely make out the edges where they met the walls. A metal scaffold had been constructed along one side, with a staircase leading up to your human-sized living space, walled off to create a separate environment comprising a bit more than half the room. It was practical, but being so small in the middle of all that empty space gave the unsettling impression that you were some kind of pet kept in an enclosure.

You stepped into your wash racks, shedding your uniform. The space was sufficient, a small metal chamber with an adjustable shower nozzle fitted into the wall. It was too clinical to be called a real bathroom, but it served its purpose. You had the foresight to bring along your own soft towels, stock of your favorite personal care items, and even little decorative tchotchkes, the reminders of home providing a sense of comfort. The moment the warm water hit your skin, some of the tension in your shoulders eased.

You scrubbed away the day, letting the steam cloud the edges of your thoughts. The report was done. Whatever happened next was beyond your control.

Afterward, wrapped in a towel, you wandered back into your living space, eyeing the rumpled sheets of your bed before deciding you weren’t quite ready to sleep. Instead, you flopped onto the couch, reaching for the small controller nestled between the cushions.

A familiar game booted up, the television bathing your face in a cool glow. It was something simple, a time-killer—one of the few forms of entertainment you had out here. The crew had been generous with sharing their media, but there were limits to what was compatible with human tech, and even then, the majority of Cybertronian entertainment was... well, a bit incomprehensible.

You thought about messaging Swerve to see if he was still up—he was always up—but hesitated. You weren’t in the mood for conversation. Not tonight.

---

The report was transmitted, you had no way of knowing the truth.

Not a single word of it would ever reach Earth.

Instead, it would land quietly, unnoticed, in Megatron’s personal files.

And he would read every word.

---

Megatron sat alone in his quarters, the glow of his terminal casting sharp lines of light across his features. He read in silence, optics scanning each line with an impassive expression, absorbing every detail. But within the careful neutrality in her, he could see it. The warmth. The distinctly human instinct to understand.

It unsettled him.

A slow ex-vent. He sat back in his chair, the metal creaking beneath his weight. He should have expected this.

It was only natural that prolonged exposure to him, to the reality of his existence beyond the war, would begin to erode the preconceptions she had carried with her onto this ship. He had allowed it. Encouraged it, even. A few carefully placed conversations, an acknowledgment here, a fleeting moment of understanding there—small, deliberate gestures, each one nudging her further along the path he had laid. A path to what?

Compassion was the outcome, and he was the cause of it. That should be a victory.

Megatron’s optics narrowed as he skimmed further, fingers resting lightly against his chin. She had read the poem, of course. He had known that the moment he gave it to her. 

Handing her that datapad was a mistake surely- his poetry constituted sensitive material. Material which he allowed himself to place in the hands of a human. Bitterness flushed through his systems. He could almost taste putrid fools energon on his glossa at the thought of meeting her wet eyes again wide and searching. He hated it. 

The hatred and rage could only flare so much. The darkness that had penetrated his spark ran deeply, at one time the well of contempt he could draw from was endless. Now as he reached for more venom he could grasp at nothing more. And when the anger was gone only guilt and regret remained to take its place.

He would have to walk it—no matter how much it unsettled him. No matter how much it forced him to confront the parts of himself he had buried.

Megatron’s hand hovered over the terminal, just for a klik before typing.

We regret to inform you that your resignation request is currently pending due to an unforeseen bureaucratic delay. Our department is working diligently to process all outstanding submissions, and we will notify you as soon as your request has been reviewed.

He read it over once, then sent it.

The lie sat uneasily in his systems, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. She needed to stay. That much was clear. The reasons, however, were harder to pin down. It wasn’t strategy. It wasn’t even about keeping a watchful eye on a potential weakness in the crew. No—there was something else, something he couldn’t quite force himself to name.

For now, it was enough to justify keeping her close. To ensure that every report she sent passed through his hands first, to study every thought she committed to writing. It wasn’t control. Not exactly.

With a low sigh, he lifted a hand and turned it over in the faint glow of the room. Scuffs and fine scratches marred the dark plating of his palm, remnants of skirmishes, maintenance work, and erosion of time. His servos had been made and unmade countless times, not much of his original body remained with him at present.

He flexed his fingers, watching the servos respond with perfect precision despite their imperfections. This body—his current form—had been reforged for another purpose. It had once been built for conquest, for crushing those who opposed him without hesitation. Now, its function has been rewritten. The weight of a fusion cannon had long since been stripped from his arm, and yet, even now, his hand curled as if expecting to feel its familiar presence.

Old habits.

He retrieved a polishing block from a nearby compartment, dragging it over the ridges of his knuckles with slow, methodical movements. It was an absent-minded ritual, one that had little effect beyond occupying his hands while his mind continued to churn.

His optics flickered toward the closed terminal once more. The report would never make it intended recipients. That, at least, was something still within his control.

Megatron set the block aside, flexed his fingers one last time, then stood. There was work to be done. And he would not allow himself to linger on this folly any longer than necessary. With a final glance around the quiet, empty room, he stepped out into the corridor.

He moved with purpose, letting the gentle hum of the Lost Light’s engines settle into the background. His mind should be elsewhere—on command duties, on logistical matters, on the countless routine obligations that kept the ship running.

Kt-oom vvrrt Kt-oom vvvrt Kt-oom

Step by thunderous step.

A voice interrupted his march.

"You’re up late."

Megatron's optics flickered toward the source—Rung, standing a short distance away, hands clasped in front of him. He wasn’t blocking Megatron’s path, nor did he make any indication that he intended to linger. And yet, there was something in the way he regarded him that suggested he had been waiting.

Megatron sighed, his expression unreadable. "A captain's responsibilities do not adhere to a schedule."

"Mm," Rung hummed, the sound deliberately neutral. "Of course. But I’d imagine you’d be accustomed to delegating by now."

Megatron narrowed his optics slightly. “Is there something you need, Rung?”

The smaller mech tilted his head slightly, studying him with that infuriatingly patient expression. “No,” he said simply. “But I suspect there’s something you need.”

Megatron tensed, just slightly, before letting his frame settle back into its usual commanding stillness. “If this is an invitation for another one of your attempts at psychoanalysis, I must decline. I have no interest in unnecessary introspection tonight.”

Rung made no attempt to stop him as Megatron took a step forward. But just before he could pass, the psychiatrist spoke again softly.

"It’s a funny thing about people, Megatron. The more you try to obscure yourself, the clearer you tend to become."

Megatron halted for a fraction of a second. Not long enough to be called hesitation, but long enough that Rung would have noticed.

Megatron didn’t turn back.

"Goodnight, Rung."

And then he was gone, his footfalls heavy against the corridor floor, the shadows swallowing his form.

Rung watched him go, optics flickering with contemplation before he finally turned in the opposite direction.

---

Authors Note // This song was on my mind while working on this chapter :)

[slut-strut-satan]

So many of these issues would be solved if people (both writers and the audience) understood that Thing Existing and The Way Thing Is Framed Within The Narrative are two separate considerations.

Including social issues (racism/homophobia/sexism/etc) in a narrative is not implicitly bad. But refusing to acknowledge and challenge those things within the narrative—thereby framing them as acceptable and/or unworthy of criticism—is bad.

It’s not the topic that’s the problem, it’s what the story says about that topic that can veer into problematic territory. But before you can make that judgement, you need to understand what is actually being said about the topic in question.

How is the issue incorporated? How do characters within the story feel about these issues? In what way have these issues affected them and shaped their lives? In what ways have these issues affected and shaped the setting? What alignment is assigned to the characters who either benefit or are harmed by the way these issues shape society? Who (if anyone) is being held to account for these issues?

You cannot judge a piece of media for including certain topics unless you can interpret why these topics were incorporated, how they are incorporated, and what value they bring to the narrative. That’s what makes a topic into a theme as opposed to a thing that’s just sort of….there. It needs to serve a purpose. The story needs to say something about it, do so effectively, and you (the audience) must know how to interpret what was said.

That is what it means to be media literate.

Okay I promise this isn’t aimed at Veilguard specifically (I think DAV avoids this issue in some areas more than others), but god it really does irritate me when a game or piece of media is overly careful to be inoffensive and safe. like you can be diverse and progressive and still challenge your audience, I promise.

I want bad things to happen. I want tension, I want messiness, I want character traits that are ugly. I want the heroes to have real flaws and if it takes place in a world where bad things are happening, I want to see and explore those bad things. I want gay characters to be able to get killed off. I want everyone to be in danger. I want games to tackle serious themes like sexual violence and suicide and child abuse. I want diverse villains, I want ignorant heroes, I want complexity and nuance and it’s so annoying to so often see progressiveness go hand-in-hand with unchallenging, because the creators are scared of fucking up something, pissing off the audience, and getting crazy backlash and/or death threats.

[im-smart-i-swear]

coming back home.

@barrenclan

[bookshelfdreams]

.

[redtail-lol]

As a One Piece fan, one of the biggest, most widespread issues in one piece's fanbase is the total inability to accept criticism of One Piece. Any attempt to criticize the series is met with a defense for why it's actually okay. When it's a menial annoyance, it doesn't need to be defended! Just let people be annoyed with this little detail for fucks sake. We're not trying to ruin your enjoyment of the whole series because Vivi and Robin's faces going from completely distinct from one another in Alabasta to being indistinguishable from Nami's post timeskip is a strange art flaw. There's no good reason and there doesn't need to be either. It's just pointing out a minor flaw in a series, because it isn't perfect. When it's an objectively bad thing like racist character design or whitewashing... You don't actually help make One Piece appear like it isn't racist. You look like you're okay with racism, and when a large chunk of the fanbase is constantly dismissing, denying, and excusing racism, it reflects poorly on the series. And your attempts to defend the series just makes the fandom space more hostile for fans of color.

I had a discussion the other night with my best friend (and ex) who got me into the series. She was the one defending against menial issues I had and inspired the post. She kinda explained that, especially on Twitter, avid haters of One Piece use even the most menial of details to treat the series as completely irredeemable and harass fans online. But I don't think that's a good enough reason for the fanbase to go far into the opposite direction and refuse to interact with the series critically. To always come up with a reason why it's actually okay. Treating the series as flawless. One Piece fans need to reasses their critical thinking skills and learn how to distinguish lighthearted criticism and genuine important critical analysis from hate that directly attacks fans of the series and of characters

One Piece is problematic media, and I say that as a fan of the anime. It reflects a lot of the prejudices and issues within Japan's culture and wider East Asian cultures (which, before you say it, are often shared by western cultures and American culture too, I know) and when watching it, I think you should be aware that some of the things in it are bad. There are really good things in One Piece! It has a good message about friendship and found family, about your dreams and will, and the emotional beats can land so well. It's not fundamentally bad and it's not irredeemable, but you should engage with it critically. Recognize that Toei, if not Oda himself, designs antagonists to have darker complexions than the heroes because of colorism, and that's bad. Recognize that Usopp's design is racist. Recognize that the whitewashing of characters Toei previously colored darker (while villain Blackbeard never changed) is because of colorist biases. It's okay - good, actually - to recognize when something presented in media you enjoy is bad, and even if you continue to enjoy the media, still understand that aspects of it are bad.

Recognize menial things you dislike too! I have menial things I dislike about the series and complain about to my friend. I've already mentioned the women ending up with same face syndrome. Another thing I hate is, in the English Funimation dub, Eric Vale puts on the most gratingly obnoxious hammy voice whenever Sanji goes into his gimmick. It's not a serious issue but it annoys me and that's okay! It's good to enjoy things as a whole even if you don't like aspects of it. It's just a good exercise in learning how to engage with things that you don't like 100% and engage with media critically. Because it's gonna be hard to find value in important things and hurt your media literacy if you won't engage with anything that has aspects you dislike or don't agree with, and be just as bad if you condition yourself to accept every aspect of media you like unquestioningly. It is important to allow yourself and others to just be a little hater about things that annoy you.

The push from One Piece fans to never criticize the series is literally just as bad as the haters calling it irredeemable because there's too much cleavage. The friend I mentioned earlier? Her favorite character is Sanji because of his emotional depth. But she really dislikes the way Toei handled his character in comparison to the manga, way overdoing his gimmick and taking away character moments to put the spotlight onto Zoro. Saying this on twitter got her called slurs and sent threats by rabid fans that couldn't understand the difference between "I like this character and it hurts to see him mishandled by the anime studio" and "I hate this character and if you like him, then you're a bad person!" So while I understand how reactiveness to criticism can be a result of rampant hate, it's no excuse when you're just as toxic. And both are equally a threat to media literacy - consuming problematic media critically is a good thing. The haters are bad because they think you shouldn't ever comsume anything problematic ever. That's bad for your critical thinking skills and ability to separate good elements and lessons from things that have bad elements and lessons. But the fans are also bad because they think you should consume problematic media unquestioningly, uncritically, and accept everything within it as morally correct. Which is such a bad outlook to have on a series that has such clear influences of racism and colorism! That can be genuinely dangerous. Like jesus fuck.

And on a less important point, the push against any criticism also makes it hard to watch for me. I get tempted to drop the anime entirely when I'm told that it's not okay to dislike elements of it, or openly criticize things that bug me. When I feel pressured to accept things I dislike to accept the show, I want to reject the show for the sake of rejecting those elements. When I'm allowed to just say "wow I don't like that" it feels better. Like I've acknowledged the thing I don't like now, so it doesn't have to keep being such a bother. For example, Usopp's design having the donut lips was a big bother to me when he was first introduced. The ability to be critical of that aspect of the anime is the reason I can still watch the show and even enjoy Usopp as a character when he's given his good moments - because I'm not forced to be okay with something I'm not okay with! The push to be okay with it when I've listened to many black people talk about how donut lips are racist and mock them just makes me want to drop it entirely because I refuse to compromise my beliefs and pretend One Piece is perfect. "Just enjoy it and don't be so judgy!" No!!! This aspect is bad!! I can try my best to enjoy the series but I'm never gonna enjoy this aspect and I want to be able to vocally reject it and criticize it. If I can't do that, if I have to accept this thing I object to as an okay thing, I won't do that.

I don't think this pushback is just individuals. It's very widespread within the fandom. I see it on youtube and though I don't have twitter, my friend's testimony is enough to say it's definitely like that over there as well. Tumblr seems to be a bit better about it, but still. So if you find yourself guilty of this, I don't think you're a bad person (unless you sent someone threats and called them slurs like my friend was, obviously). My best friend was guilty too, because it's just a contagious attitude worsened by the opposition and enforced by the fandom that already has it.

Also, my friend and I did have a good discussion. It started with me nitpicking same face syndrome that develops later in the anime (while where I am now, Vivi, Nami, and Robin all had distinct features from each other, particularly in eye shape, that made them distinct from each other even if you color them all with Nami's hair color), and with her giving me reasons why it's fine actually. Then it became a discussion about how being on twitter between the extremes of the fans who won't accept critique and the haters who misconstrue characters and tell fans they're pieces of shit for enjoying the series or a character, did shape her to be more defensive when I'd give the same menial criticism. It was always respectful of one another because we're both smart and we both care about each other too much to let fictional anime pirates tear us apart. She understood what I was saying, when I explained that I should just be allowed to give meaningless critique sometimes because it makes it stop bothering me as badly when I've acknowledged it, and that I'm clearly not the kind of person who's using it as a way to say OP is entirely bad. And I'd also explained that some of my own comments weren't towards her but in general towards other fans since I'd seen so many people excusing the whitewashing of Usopp. It wasn't a heated argument or anything of the sort so please nobody comment bad things about my friend.

TL;DR Consuming problematic media critically good, refusing to consume or engage critically with problematic media are both bad outlooks, and the one piece fandom has major issues with trying to shut down any and all criticism of the series. One Piece is not above criticism and it is a very flawed piece of media. Engaging critically with it and allowing others to do the same while still enjoying it is necessary. Twitter is toxic. Hit post.

[kavehayati]

Guys what does non sharing self shipper mean bc surely that doesn’t mean you’re 100% gatekeeping the chara if you’re consuming content others made ?? Like ;; bc if you gatekeeping said character, that means you gotta acknowledge the fact others thought of that chara in those situations yk ?

Like idk what I am, but I’m very very very particular abt my characterisation of kaveh. The only Kaveh I like is canon kaveh. And canon kaveh is the same kaveh in my head even tho obviously I extend his character a fair bunch in my mind. Obvi,, cause nobody gets him like I do fellas 😞 and I say this with so much faith cause istg nobody does 😓 it kinda makes me a tad annoyed if I do see someone claiming that he’s their fave BUT NOT FOR THE REASON YOU THINK OK ! it’s bc ppl ALWAYS mischaracterise him.

it’s SO annoying I swear … like UGH I just had to have the character I like sm be a fan favourite who gets his image dragged to smithereens to the point he’s irrecognisable …

like do NAWT play with me — Kaveh ain’t no twink 😭 he’s also not a damsel in distress … HE ALSO ISNT PAYING RENT BY DOING THE NASTY WITH ALHAITHAM FUCK YOU ALL 😭 and he doesn’t do shit with alhaitham argue with the wall and fuck you again for good measure.

And I swear if I hear someone say he’s dumb … I’m in your walls. I’m in your ceilings. And I’m gonna hocus pocus you to last century where the existence of Kaveh never was. So stfu before I do black magic on your sorry ass 😭

[databent]

why the fuck is it that some people cant seem to acknowledge that people can just... be disabled. not through any fault of their own, not because something "happened" to them, just because, you know, sometimes people have disabilities. like, come on

[homophyte]

mmhhgm 2 AM thinking about HRT…………..perhaps my urgency is influenced by the belief that my transness only becomes acceptable after certain parameters are met and that it is in some way inappropriate to present myself as a trans person while being pretransition . something radical about the exposure of the whole process instead of being one of those instagram transes who pop into existence 7 years on T and post top surgery

[askshivanulegacy]

It's not "evil" to have investments. It's not "evil" to have a 401K, and it's not "evil" to have investments outside of that. It's normal. It's perfectly fine and it's practical if you have the ability to do it.

Are people honestly saying you should NOT use the money you have efficiently? That you should NOT do whatever is in your capability to secure a safe and reliable retirement? That you should, as consequence, work forever until you drop and never take advantage of systems that are meant to provide for you?

This type of thing is entirely non-ethical. Financial investment is NOT tied to the concept of ethical judgement. It is neither morally "good" nor morally "bad." It is a tool you can use for yourself to provide for yourself. This is especially important because no one else is going to do it for you or hold your hand. Most jobs aren't offering retirement, and the ones that do aren't necessarily reliable. You need to look after yourself.

It's entirely your own personal choice if you want to make up the idea that investments are "evil," and therefore create a fake moral high ground to not take care of yourself and to manufacture fake guilt trips for people who are doing that. But the people with sense are going to ignore that, and they're going to have something at the end of the day and you are not.

You are not evil because you have investments or retirement accounts.

Telling poor people that signing up for a 401K makes them evil is not praxis you stupid, stupid motherfucker.

[strohller27]

.

[skeleton-monarch]

yknow if we want to get anywhere we have to start ignoring the things we dislike for petty reasons. if the answer to “is this causing anyone harm” is no, then try and ignore it. discomfort is not necessarily harm btw.

[foxxsong]

I get not understanding neopronouns. I totally understand if people with developmental or intellectual disorders need to avoid people that use them because they can't wrap their brain around them enough to use them right or find having to think about them long enough to use the right one, when they very literally are incapable of understanding, distressing. Competing access needs are a morally neutral thing that I will never judge anyone for.

But to go on to talk about how despite this you respect neopronouns EXCEPT (plain text: except) it/its? If you feel the need to clarify that you don't have an issue with most of them, but want to single people like me out specifically? Trauma is understandable, and I know people with those disorders are in particular susceptible to being referred to that way cruelly, but you can just... not mention us.

Literally everything they shared was FINE (plain: fine) up to that point. But singling us out and saying you'll never respect our pronouns specifically - when you could've just not mentioned us at all - does in fact make you an asshole. Having trauma and saying that people that identify with something that was used to hurt you means you don't have to respect them makes you an asshole. Just don't fucking mention us and avoid us like you JUST (plain: just) said you can do fine with every other neopronoun user. You do not have to sit there and list off all the reasons you will never respect us specifically!!

I/DD people have so many limitations that most people just refuse to try to understand and take seriously. If someone struggles to not talk badly about things they find upsetting or confusing because of having an I/DD then that's one thing. People upset by it can block and move on because harassing someone who cannot change is cruel. But you don't get to demonstrate and self-proclaim that you CAN (plain: can) respect and avoid and move on for other people and then turn around and go out of your way to single a specific group out and talk about how horrible their identity is and act like that's somehow acceptable.

Literally, just shut up and do not talk about us. We KNOW (plain: know) people hate our pronouns. We KNOW (plain: know) there are people who do not respect our choice to use them. We KNOW (plain: know) there are people who will just never call us by them no matter what. We don't need people fucking going out of their way to single us out while defending how they respect everyone else like us. That makes you an asshole.

[moontyger]

The U.S. seems only to understand pregnancy as a distinct and fragile state. For the expectant, we issue reams of proscriptions—more than can reasonably be followed. We tell them what to eat and what not to eat. We ask that they visit the doctor regularly and that they not do any strenuous activity. We give them our seats on the bus. Finally, once they’ve actually undergone the physical trauma of it, their bodies thoroughly depleted, we beckon them most immediately to rejoin the rest of us. One New York mother summed up her recent postpartum experience this way: “You’re not hemorrhaging? OK, peace, see you later.”

The Chinese traditionally adhere to 30 days of restful confinement—another week for a C-section—during which time moms are meant to consume lactation-inducing soups and herbal tonics and abstain from sex and cold water. In Mexico, the ritualized interlude, or the cuarentena, goes for 40 days, or long enough for the womb to return to its place. Balinese women are not allowed to enter the kitchen until the baby’s cord stump has fallen. Dutch maternity nurses make postpartum visits every day for the eight days after childbirth, and in France, as elsewhere, new moms spend nearly a week in hospital.

Always, the mothers are educated as they convalesce; they’re taught to breast-feed, to manage baby rashes and bath time and sore nipples. Rarely are they first to respond to the infant’s shrieking. In 2011 I visited a luxury postpartum center in Taipei, where women of means (and who would rather not call on their mothers-in-law, as is custom) spend a month in recovery. When I asked Tsai Ya-hui, who had given birth to her first child three weeks earlier, what she did all day in her high-end suite, she answered: “Internet and sleep. That’s about it.” She looked more refreshed than I did.

There are elements of these postpartum practices (the consumption of foods rich in iron) that are common-sensical, and there are others (tightly wrapping the belly with a postnatal girdle; consuming distilled rice wine in place of water; extremely limited exposure to the sun in the first month), the usefulness and safety of which are debated by the medical community. But the thing to focus on here is the idea of a culturally recognized and accepted postpartum rest period. With these rituals comes an acknowledgment, familial and federal, that the woman needs relief more at this time than at any other—especially if she has a career to return to—and that it takes weeks, sometimes months, to properly heal from childbirth. An acknowledgement that overexertion after labor could lead to depression, infection, increased uterine bleeding, or prolapse. An acknowledgment that the postpartum stretch shouldn’t feel, as it did for so many of the American women who took part in my informal survey, like one long sleepless night.

“A culturally accepted postpartum period sends a powerful message that’s not being sent in this country,” said Dr. Margaret Howard, the director of the Day Hospital for Postpartum Depression in Providence, Rhode Island. “American mothers internalize the prevailing attitude—‘I should be able to handle this myself; women have babies every day’—and if they’re not up and functioning, they feel like there’s something wrong with them.” A colleague of Howard’s, the daughter of a pediatrician, brought her prepregnancy jeans to the delivery room, expecting to slip into them once the baby was out.

I spent part of an afternoon with some new mothers in Park Slope, an affluent Brooklyn neighborhood that is frequently and teasingly associated with over-the-top urban parenting. As a group, they’d received probably the best postpartum care that this country has to offer, which they detailed over the squeals and sighs of their nursing infants. Sophia Sotto had hired a postpartum doula, but didn’t feel comfortable “asking her to do the dishes in the sink.” She remembered: “I still couldn’t manage when to shower, when to eat.” Sarah Hake had an episiotomy and still, like every woman in America, was asked to come in for a 15-minute checkup six weeks after leaving the delivery room. “Six weeks is too late,” she said. The rest murmured their agreement.

All had cooked; all had cleaned. Asked Emily Lillywhite, “If you don’t get up and do it, who will?” One woman had taken an especially long walk two days after delivering, because she wanted to “feel normal again.” Most had been afraid to survey the wreck between their legs, and those who did look hadn’t been able to tell if they were healing well or not. “Google became my very good friend,” said Ruth Margolis. “Yes,” Sotto broke in. “Your postpartum support is the Internet.”

I heard stories of women vacuuming upon arriving home after a day and a half in the hospital; of new moms waiting until the six-week checkup to make their postnatal complications known; of visitors turning up and instantly asking for coffee; of lactation consultants who were meant to, but did not, take insurance; of a postpartum doula who, when she was summoned by a mother one month postlabor, said, “You’re too far along to need me.”

A popular site that advises women on how to find and work with a baby nurse counsels: “Ask your baby nurse what she likes to eat and stock up at the supermarket.” It is true that hiring a postpartum helper is far less expensive in, say, Hong Kong than in the U.S. But the problem is not one of money. The problem is that no one recognizes the new mother as a recuperating person, and she does not see herself as one. For the mourning or the injured, we will activate a meal tree. For the woman who is torturously fatigued, who has lost one 10th of her body’s blood supply, who can scarcely pee for the stitches running up her perineum, we will not.

[autistichalsin]

Antis have really ruined a lot of aspects of online debate, but one of the biggest ones is intimately tying dislike into morality.

You can dislike a character, even a heroic one, and still acknowledge that they are a hero. You don't have to conjure reasons why they're actually bad and problematic.

You can like a character, even a villanous one, and still acknowledge that they are a villain. You don't have to conjure reasons why they're actually good and wholesome.

Some asshole antis have spent so long harassing anyone who resonates with the wrong character that people have started trying to play their game from the other side, villainizing the heroes and glorifying the villains, so they won't face that anger from the antis, instead of just saying "yes, this character is a good person and i hate them/this character is a bad person and I like them."

The same applies to people in real life too. You don't have to like everyone you meet. There doesn't need to be a good reason for it; you can dislike people for any reason. People aren't willing to accept that anymore, though, since it is a known truth you have to still be respectful to people you dislike UNLESS they have done something terrible, and no one wants to do that. So instead they will make their dislike of people into a moral issue to avoid treating them respectfully. And you just... can't do that. You can't.

[jacquelinemerritt]

Another Confessional Essay

Originally posted June 21st, 2017

If you’ve ever read my writing before, you can probably tell that I’m not that not a fan of the “confessional essay” style that’s become immensely popular on the internet in the last few years. To be perfectly honest, except for a few rare instances where this style of essay is brilliantly crafted and fits the subject matter incredibly well, I tend to find these essays boring and lacking any real substance.

The exceptions that I love are generally essays that relate deeply personal experiences and tie them back effectively to a main point, as in people of color writing about their personal experience with racism, trans people describing their experiences growing up and how they discovered the truth about who they are, or abuse victims describing their experience with abuse and its effects on their lives.

The topic I need to write about fits the second of those three, and so despite not being a fan of the format, and despite preferring to keep my essays and my journaling eternally separate, I need to use the format. Because right now, I am stuck with a burning realization that I don’t know any other way to process: I don’t know how to be a woman.

Now, I’m going to follow that statement by making clear everything that I’m not saying by that. I am not saying that I’m not a woman, I am one and have always been one. I also do on a certain level know “how” to be a person who is accepted as a woman, and I know of many models for womanhood that I could embrace and follow if I desired.

But I don’t want to be any of those women.

The problem here isn’t that I don’t know of ways to be a woman, the problem is that I genuinely don’t know how I am supposed to be both myself and a woman, both in the sense of feeling that my own self is fully womanly and being able to be accepted as a woman without changing who I fundamentally am.

What’s ironic about this is that I have no such confusion about what kind of girl that I am. I know exactly who 6-year-old Jacqueline is, who 13-year-old Jacqueline is, who 16-year-old Jacqueline is. I can envision who I would’ve been growing up a girl at each of those ages, and when I need to feel more feminine, regressing my mind into one of those younger ages and embracing my girlish immaturity makes me feel more secure in my gender identity than anything else possibly can.

But I have no such retreat within my present. I genuinely don’t have a feminine adult headspace that I can turn to when I need to both feel like my adult self and a woman at the same time. Perhaps this is the dysphoric effect of living in a house for over half a year where no one will openly acknowledge your gender identity, and I’ve even arguably come close to creating such a headspace through the persona I’ve crafted for my work as an online tech support advisor, but that persona, as convincingly feminine as it usually is, breaks down whenever​ I need to analyze something critically, take charge of a situation, or even just feel any emotion that isn’t overwhelmingly positive.

More than that though, even in the space where I feel the most creatively free, writing criticism, I don’t feel like I’m able to convincingly write in my own voice and simultaneously write in a voice that makes me clearly appear to be a woman. Now, I’m not saying that all women writers sound a specific way, nor should they, all I am saying is that there are certain styles of writing that project femininity significantly better than others, and that those styles clash inherently with my own style of writing.

Take this essay, for instance. I’m attempting to write in as close to the style of the confessional essay as I can muster, but even with a topic as personal as this my tone has been rigid and commanding, and it only shows the frustration that I’m feeling, not the sadness, insecurity, or hopelessness that I’m feeling in genuinely not having a clue what I should do about it. A good confessional essay would’ve shown all those emotions through with its writing style, but my default writing style is taking over my ability to write here, and I sound nothing like the confessional essay I’m drawing inspiration from.

It’d be one thing if I just couldn’t adapt my writing style to another format though. I know my writing style is rigid, but in general I like the way it makes me come across. What upsets me though is that me not being able to adapt my style to function as a confessional essay means that I cannot adapt my writing style to a more “feminine” style of writing, even as I try to do so now.

If you don’t believe that, just ask yourself, each time I’ve mentioned confessional essays, who have you pictures as the authors?

I know that I’ve only been picturing women, or people close to women on the spectrum of gender.

Now think about everything I’ve written here, the writing style I’ve used, and the way I’ve presented my information​.

What voice have you been hearing in your head as you’ve read through it?

You don’t need to answer that.

It’s been a man’s voice.

And I don’t know how to change that.

Critical Eye Criticism is the work of Jacqueline Merritt, a trans woman, filmmaker, and critic. You can support her continued film criticism addiction on Patreon.

[wilwheaton]

So, of course, the question is: What exactly can Democrats do here? Unfortunately, it seems like the current consensus within the Democratic Party is to lean further to the center. Which is a conclusion you can only come to if you ignore everything Trump supporters have been saying since 2016. Not only will they happily follow Trump down any section of the political compass he chooses, but they will also lash out at anything and everything Democrats do. If Harris had spent the summer literally repeating everything Trump said, she still would have lost because she’s a Democrat. No viral podcaster is going to fix that reputation problem. As Peter Shamshiri, the co-host of the podcast “If Books Could Kill,” opined in an episode this month, marijuana legalization is currently a bipartisan issue across the country, but if Democrats had run on it this year, it no longer would be. And it doesn’t seem like Democrats have really digested, yet, exactly how badly their brand has been tarnished. There is simply nothing they could have offered that Trump voters would have accepted for the simple fact it was coming from Democrats. Which is an existential problem, to be sure, but not an insurmountable one. Instead of trying to pander to a group of voters who, at least right now, will never vote for them, the Democrats need to spend their four-year walkabout igniting a base of their own. They need to come to terms with the fact that the slick, corporate, pop-star-laden Obama era is well and truly dead. Conservatives hate them and young progressives don’t trust them. Democrats can’t reverse their fortunes if they don’t acknowledge this fundamental problem. And while they’re at it, they might want to consider finding a candidate liberals and progressives like as much as conservatives like Trump.

There is nothing the current Democratic Party can offer Trump supporters