#this is more a statement on my gender than on my sexuality

[thatdude-noah]

every relationship i have is gay. i can't date anybody in a straight way. i date a man? it is gay. i date a woman? it is gay. i date a nonbinary person? it is gay. i will be in a gay relationship no matter what.

#this is more a statement on my gender than on my sexuality #my sexuality is something i am not thinking about right now #just thinking about how gay my gender is

[drchucktingle]

THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION HAVE ISSUED AN APOLOGY AND A RE-INVITATION. HERE IS MY STATEMENT

hello buckaroos. the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION have issued a formal statement and apology which you can read at the attached link.

while i find the language used to discuss what was done a little unsatisfying, i would like to start by saying i appreciate anyone taking steps to prove love is real and make things right. the genuine feeling of ‘realizing you have made a mistake and hurt someone else’ is a terrible one, and i have so much empathy for this group as they reckon with their choices causing harm. i appreciate their apology.

i also think more good than bad has come from this situation. i am so thankful this happened to me (someone with a large social media presence) and not a smaller buckaroo author without the means to stand up for themselves. i think the next time someone comes to the TXLA with an accommodation need, they will hopefully be taken more seriously

lets trot down to business about specifics now. the TXLA has re-invited chuck to the original panel and even offered to take a moment at the top of the panel to talk about what happened. this is very kind of them and i will say THANK YOU. 

unfortunately i will also have to decline.

the fact that it took this much effort, social media backlash, and discussion to let me simply EXIST PHYSICALLY in a way that is authentic to myself is not a good sign. if this organization immediately questions an authors chosen presentation in this manner, i cannot imagine what my other accommodations would be met with.

sometimes i am at an event and i very quickly need extra space to breathe. sometimes i am at an event and i need special guides to help me along from place to place. these are not ‘big asks’ and every other conference has gladly provided them, but if the TXLA had this kind of initial reaction to my physical appearance, i cannot imagine them readily helping with my other needs without ‘proof’.

this is clearly not a safe place to trot for those who require additional accommodations. regardless of any apology, their ACTIONS have shown that people who appear unusual or unique are not welcome at this event on a subconscious level. i believe the TXLA have some serious inner work to do beyond this apology, and i believe this inner work will involve actions more than words.

but even more importantly i would like to make this very important point: IT DOES NOT MATTER IF MY MASK IS A DISABILITY AID OR NOT. i appreciate the way this discussion has allowed us to trot out some deep talks on autism and proved love in this way, but i think there is a much more important point at hand.

regardless of WHAT someone looks like, it is not the job of an event or conference to pick apart WHY. physical presentation can be a part of someones neurodivergence, or gender, or sexuality, but i can also just exist as a nebulous undefined part of their inner self. it can be a piece they are not ready to openly discuss yet. the guests at TXLA are authors (aka ARTISTS) and the idea that a conference dedicated to an ART is going to deny people with unique and unusual presentations for ANY reason is absurd. since when are we applying a ‘dress code’ to our artists?

without knowing it, i personally believe there is an element of the ‘good queer, bad queer’ phenomenon going on here. there is a push to say ‘LOOK we accept these marginalized groups and cultures’ but behind the scenes that means ‘we accept these marginalized groups and cultures who are quiet and speak in turn and wear the metaphorical suit and tie’. it is easy to show diversity when you only take on the voices that arent too ‘strange’.

to prove my point i ask you this: do you think orville peck would have FOR ONE SECOND been asked to perform at the texas library association event without his mask?

so with that i say ‘very sincerely, thank you, but i will have to decline the re-invitation. maybe next year’

#love is real #txla #chuck tingle #buckaroo lifestyle

[queerasaurus-rexx]

terfs keep mentioning the % of autistics who are trans/nb and that we're 'brainwashed'

and because i'm an asshole, i decided to look into why so many autistic folks are trans/nb. it's not an inaccurate statement, at least the first half, but terfs lie through their teeth so i decided to get to the scientific root of it.

the answer blew my fucking mind.

the study on gender and autism i found said two very specific things about autistic people: we are more mentally resistant to things like social conditioning and binarism. we like our secret third things, y'know.

an excerpt:

“The finding that non-binary identities are most elevated seems to support hypotheses focussed on autistic resistance to social conditioning, which are consistent with existing evidence of the same effect with respect to self-description of sexual orientation. Perhaps elevated rates of trans identity in autism might result from a rejection of the binary cisgenderist norm, which combined with a below-typical concern for social norms could promote the disclosure of the identity.”

94% of autistics surveyed for that paper identified themselves as non-binary.

other studies have found autistic people have higher levels of critical thinking, and require more evidence to maintain or convert to a belief system (hence why many of us eventually fall away from religion) than allistic people.

which means, at least from my perspective, that:

a) the 'brainwashing' terfs are accusing the trans community of inflicting on autistic folks would likely not even work if they tried.

b) the current binary definition of gender flies directly against embedded autistic modes of thinking to begin with.

you cannot brainwash someone into thinking something they already believe.

#terfs eat dirt #terfs shut up challenge #terfs are scum #terfs fuck off #anti terf

[talisidekick]

I don't care what nationality you are. US, UK, French, German, anyone in Europe, please do me the grandest of favours and spread this around. Steal the link, make your own post, I don't care; just get it to the eyes of your viewers because if they're Canadian, I need your help.

This petition ends May 26th 2023:

What is this about?

"Whereas:

The world is becoming increasingly hostile to transgender and nonbinary individuals;

Transgender and nonbinary people's rights to live as themselves are being restricted and removed in many places;

This includes the so-called "Western democracies" which have historically been presumed safe;

More than a dozen American states have enacted or are considering legislation eliminating or criminalizing gender-affirming care; and

Canada has prided itself on being an inclusive, tolerant, and welcoming society for everyone regardless of gender identity or gender expression.

We, the undersigned, residents of Canada, call upon the House of Commons to extend to transgender and nonbinary people the right to claim asylum in Canada by reason of eliminationist laws in their home countries, whatever country that may be."

It's better to give people an exit plan, and just hope they won't need it, then to do nothing and assume they'll be fine. Help us keep making Canada a positive place for everyone. I hope you'll sign if you're Canadian, and if you're not, I hope you'll help us make some positivity by sharing this around.

(Edit: A bullet point in the petitions description has been removed from this post, but remains on the petition. It's removal is due to misinformation around the UK's Equality Act 2010 only providing protection for those seeking sexual reassignment surgery. And while the Equality Act 2010 does explicitly state this, the Equality and Human Rights Commission has released an Equality Act 2019 Code of Practice document that specifies all transgender people are protected under the protected characteristic of "gender reassignment" regardless of desire to undergo the specific surgery initially identified in the Equality Act 2010 document. There has been, as of this editation, no direct quote or statement of plans to remove these protections from discrimination to the public.

I'd also like to add that there do exist protections already for 2SLGBTQIA+ folk to seek asylum in Canada, and the MP who made this petition has apparently been made aware of this, however, due to certain restrictions on that act, Canada currently lists the US as a safe country for 2SLGBTQIA+ folk because as long as there is one safe place(state, province, or territory) in the country for queer folk, the ability to seek asylum is denied. This petition clearly states a need to make a more specific clarification regarding this and open up assylum if any discriminatory laws pop up at all within a country, no matter if it's regional laws, or country wide. Specifying this because there's been a reblog or two calling this petition pointless and because I'm already clarifying UK law misinformation, might as well tackle misinformation from my own country as well. ♡)

#trans #transgender #2slgbtqia+ #lgbtq+ #lgbt+ #trans positivity #mtf #ftm #non binary #enby

[kayspaceprince]

Y know for as many problems I have with my family, I do sometimes remember that they are the people that. Instinctually Get Me on a different level from everyone else

Anyway everyone else’s responses to my body of artwork where I basically say “I don’t want to be a person. I’d like to be a robot. Or a doll. Or a plant. Human bodies and human emotions are gross.” were like “wow. Um. That’s kinda dark” or like. Weepy (I’m flattered but it’s still awkward bc I don’t see it as dark or sad. Just a fact about me) whereas my DAD saw it and was like “This rips, here’s some book and movie recommendations that tackle similar themes”

#my stuff #tbh this is one of two major reasons im not out to the #*them and don’t really plan to rn? #i feel like it’s hard for my queer friends to get but like. my relationship w my family #including extended #is so much more important to me than my sexuality and gender #which is a privilege of a kind i suppose #it helps that both are just ‘no’ #anyway just the ‘you are not alone’ of it all #and the lack of concern or pity #my dad and i have always been very. same braincell about things #the person most likely to actually follow my insane thought leaps #I’ll also finish his sentences for my mom’s benefit #he tends to drop nouns at the ends of statements #literally brought my parents to parent teacher conference and my teacher literally #the next day #was like ‘i know why you are the way that you are’

[transmutationisms]

from a non-academic, i find parts of comphet to be useful (heterosexuality becomes compulsory when you’re raised in a heterosexual society) but the foundations . suck. what do we do with theories like this, that have touched on a truth but also carry a lot of garbage? can we separate the truth from the founder?

i have to be slightly pedantic and say that i don't think rich's essay is an example of this phenomenon. my central issue with her formulation is its bioessentialist assumptions about human sex and therefore also sexuality. if i say "capitalism includes economic mechanisms that enforce heterosexual behaviour and exclude other possibilities", then what i mean by "heterosexual" is plainly not the same as what rich means—and for this reason i would seldom formulate the statement this way, without clarifying that i am talking about the enforcement of heterosexuality as a part of the creation and defence of sex/gender categories themselves. so rich and i do not actually agree on the very fundamental premises of this paper! rich was not the first or only person to point out that economic mechanisms as well as resultant social norms enforce heterosexual pairings; i actually don't even think the essay does a very clear job of interrogating the relationship between labour, economy, and the creation of sex/gender; she means something different and essentialist to what i mean by sex and sexuality; and i think her proposed responses to the phenomenon she identifies as 'compulsory heterosexuality' are uninteresting because they mainly propose psychological answers to a problem arising from conditions of political economy. so, in regards to this specific paper, i am actually totally comfortable just saying that it's not a useful formulation, and i don't feel a need to rescue elements of it.

in general, i do know what you're talking about, and i think there's a false dichotomy here: as though we must either discard an idea entirely if it has elements we dislike, or we accept it on the condition that we can plausibly claim these elements and their author are irrelevant. these are not comprehensive options. instead, i would posit that every theory, hypothesis, or idea is laden with context, including values held and assumptions made by their progenitors. the point is not to find a mythical 'objective' truth unburdened by human bias or mistakes; this is impossible. instead, i think we need to take seriously the elements of an idea that we object to. why are they there? what sorts of assumptions or arguments motivate them, and are those actually separable from whatever we like in the idea? if so, can we be clear about which aspects of the theory are still useful or applicable, and where it is that the objectionable elements arise? and if we can identify these points, then what might we propose instead? this is all much more useful, imo, than either waiting for a perfect morally unimpeachable theory or trying to 'accept' a theory without grappling with its origins (political, social, intellectual).

a recent example that you might find interesting as a kind of case study is j lorand matory's book the fetish revisited, which argues that the 'fetish' concept in freud's and marx's work drew from their respective understandings of afro-atlantic gods. in other words, when marx said capitalists "fetishise" commodities or freud spoke about sexual "fetishism", they were each claiming that viewing an object as agentive, meaning-laden in itself (ie, devoid of the context of human meaning-making as a social and political activity) was comparable to 'primitive' and delusory religious practices.

matory's point here isn't that we should reject marx's entire contribution to political economy because he was racist, nor is it that we can somehow accept parts of what marx said by just excising any racist bits. rather, matory asks us to grapple seriously with the role that marx's anthropologically inflected racism plays in his ideas, and what limitations it imposes on them. why is it that marx could identify the commodity as being discursively abstracted and 'fetishised', but did not apply this understanding to other ideas and objects in a consistent way? and how is his understanding of this process of 'fetishisation' shaped by his beliefs about afro-atlantic peoples, and their 'intelligence' or civilisational achievements in comparison to northwestern europeans'? by this critique matory is able to nuance the fetish concept, and to argue that marx's formulation of it was both reductive and inconsistently applied (analogously to how freud viewed only some sexuality as 'fetishistic'). it is true in some sense that capital and the commodity are reified and abstracted in a manner comparable to the creation of a metaphysical entity, but what we get from matory is both a better, more nuanced understanding of this process of meaning-making (incl. a challenge to the racist idea of afro-atlantic gods as simply a result of inferior intelligence or cultural development), and the critical point that if this is fetishism, then we must understand a lot more human discourse and activity as hinging on fetishisation.

the answer of what we do with the shitty or poorly formulated parts of a theory won't always be the same, obviously; this is a dialogue we probably need to have (and then have again) every time we evaluate an idea or theory. but i hope this gives you some jumping-off points to consider, and an idea of what it might look like to grapple with ideas as things inherently shaped by people—and our biases and assumptions and failings—without assuming that means we can or should just discard them any time those failings show through. the point is not to waste time trying to find something objective, but to understand the subjective in its context and with its strengths and limitations, and then to decide from there what use we can or should make of it.

#marx #adrienne rich

[nothorses]

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

I think trying to find one perfect answer that applies universally is the critical mistake here. I mean, I am a gay man. I say this because as of yet, that's the clearest answer I have for myself personally; maybe there's a possibility I experience attraction to a woman at some point (maybe I already have???), but I don't really have clarity on that right now, and it doesn't serve me to shape or explain my identity around "maybe"s.

Trying to pinpoint exactly what it is that attracts me to other men, specifically, is also like... not that useful. I used to find myself really attracted to feminine men specifically; not feminine women, not masculine women, not masculine men, not androgynous anyone, but feminine men. Specifically, men who were feminine in a very particular, long-hair-certain-attitude kind of way.

Recently, I have found myself appreciating, more and more, a certain kind of masculine body type and gay masculinity that I was never really interested in before. I find it incredibly hot. A lot of that coincides with things I appreciate about my partner, too, and things I find myself appreciating more about my partner as time goes on- as well as things my partner expresses appreciation for about me!

And I haven't even touched on attraction to nonbinary folks here because, like, it's a massive spectrum. "Nonbinary" means something different for every individual nonbinary person. To my mind, of course there's a possibility I experience attraction to a nonbinary person; how they identity, present, and what attracts me to them are all even more impossible to know for certain than the "maybe"s and the "why"s around my attraction (or lack thereof) to men and women.

My relationship to my own orientation was vastly different pre-testosterone versus post-testosterone, too. I was much more reserved and uncomfortable with relationships and attraction before I started T, and the only dynamic I ever felt was even a little bit tolerable was one where I was the "masculine woman" in a lesbian relationship. I didn't realize until very shortly after starting T that, actually, I like men. A lot. I felt comfortable with my body and my masculinity in a way I never had been before, and I felt comfortable in relationships with men; I no longer felt like I was The Woman By Default in contrast.

And that's all just me! This is my personal, specific, individual relationship to attraction, and how gender- both others' and my own- factors into my relationship with orientation.

I don't think it's necessarily inborn, or completely unchanging for everyone. I also don't think the same factors apply for everyone. I think a lot of different things can be true for different people, all at once, and it's not really useful to try to pinpoint a specific, universal explanation for orientation.

Everyone has a different relationship to orientation and gender; everyone will be influenced differently by cultural factors, by their own ways of processing and understanding the world around them, by the ways different aspects of their culture, identity, personality, and inborn traits and how they all interact with one another, and sure, maybe even by biological factors and tendencies.

Trying to solve this puzzle for the entire world of diverse human beings isn't going to make it any easier to understand yourself. Focus on what this all means for you, personally, and accept that you will never, can never, fully and perfectly understand anyone else's internal world and workings. Things get a lot easier when you can let go of that & just appreciate the diversity of human experiences, y'know?

#advice #sorry if this isn't the answer you wanted anon #and honestly I recommend digging into some academic works around queer and gender studies #try some judith butler if you need a starting point #but like. people have been asking this question for some time & you will find so much more value in the answers of people whose whole lives #are dedicated to exploring the possibilities and diversity of experiences #and putting that in larger contexts with help and collaboration from a whole world of people doing similar work

[daizymax]

wondrous | lmh (m)

summary: pregnancy is strange and uncomfortable and even kind of gross, but your loving husband is always willing to show you just how desirable and wonderful you are.

pairing: lee know x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 5.3k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: profanity; pregnancy; some body insecurities; binary gender talk; graphic sexual content; pregnant sex; dirty talk; lactation kink; creampie

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

---

Slamming the car door with more force than necessary is childish, and if your husband were here, he would probably tell you so. Well, maybe not in such blatant terms. First, he would probably ask you to explain what led you to such pissy behavior, and your answer would be that you’re frustrated and out of patience.

You hate that your patience is in such short supply these days. You know you are going to need all of it and then some when the baby comes.

You rest one of your hands on the crest of your bulging stomach and sigh softly. “I’m sorry,” you say to the ever-growing baby within. “I guess you might need to be patient with me, too, if it’s not too much to ask.”

The tears well up unbidden. That happens often lately with your hormones on the fritz. Evidently something as mundane as a shopping trip to the mall is enough to upset you nowadays. Then your mind dwells on how you should be grateful to be in a position to buy the things you want and need whenever you want, and that only makes you sob harder.

You allow the silly little breakdown to run its course, knowing it will be better to sit and let it out now before you drive home.

After a few minutes, you sniffle and wipe your wet cheeks in shame. After a couple more minutes of deep breaths, when you are certain you are stable enough to drive, you start the engine.

The commute home gives you some time to decompress, and the sight of Minho’s car in the driveway lifts your spirits. He told you this morning that he might have to work late this evening — which was fine by you since it translated to having more money for the pending expenses of birthing and raising a child — but having him home is even better.

A loud clang and a muttered curse greet you as you enter the front door. It may not be a polite reaction, but you can’t help but smile at whatever your husband is struggling with in the kitchen. You sling your shopping bags onto the couch and go to rescue him.

Minho is bent over at the waist, rummaging through a bottom cabinet with his backside to you. You take a moment to ogle the fit of his jeans appreciatively before making your presence known.

“Hi honey, need some help?”

He flinches and whirls around. “Heyyy, doll! I didn’t hear you come in.” He hastily combs his fingers through his smooth brown hair as if to compose himself for you.

“That’s because you were busy tearing down the kitchen, from the sound of it,” you laugh.

He does not even dispute your joke. He just groans in frustration and kicks his foot out behind him to close the cabinet. “Where do we keep the rice cooker? I swear I’ve looked everywhere.”

“Did you look here?” You pull open the correct cabinet near your calves and squat down to retrieve it. He rushes to stop you.

“Hey, hey, let me get it.” He comes over and crouches with you only to put his hands on your hips and guide you back up with him. “You shouldn’t exert yourself. I have a bun in that oven, lady.”

You snort loudly. “Don’t I know it. My whole day was an over-exertion, though. I think I can handle stooping over to grab the rice cooker.”

“Oh?” His face becomes concerned, eyebrows wrinkling and pink lips pouting adorably. His hands begin sliding up and down along your sides. “What was wrong with your day?”

“Oh, I’ve just decided I hate shopping for maternity clothes now,” you say, sighing heavily. The statement is so frivolous it makes you cringe, but the rest of your unimportant complaints come flooding out anyway. “They’re all so unflattering, not to mention it’s so uncomfortable trying them on. Getting undressed and redressed is such a pain in the ass. It’s like a whole fucking workout now, I swear to god.”

“Ah, I bet. Poor thing,” Minho says without a trace of condescension to his tone, and you envy his patience. He pulls you in for a hug in his strong arms, and your swollen stomach bumps against his flat one.

Inspired by his understanding, you continue unburdening your rather meaningless worries into his shoulder. “It was so crowded, too. I hate how everyone stares at me all the time just because I’m pregnant. And I especially hate when other parents come up to me and give me advice or tell me stories about their own pregnancies, like I fucking asked.”

Minho laughs and massages his fingertips into the back of your head. “I think they’re just trying to be kind and helpful. They only mean well.”

“Yeah, well, it’s also super annoying.”

“Sorry. What can I do to help?”

You shake your head and step back from him. “Right now I just want to shower and change my clothes. I’m not kidding about that ‘workout.’ I’ve been sweating for hours and I feel disgusting right now. The boob sweat is strong under this sweater right now.”

“Well, we’ve got a towel right here.” He whips the dish towel off the handle of the stove with a flourish and holds it up with a cheeky grin. “Let me help you.”

You laugh. “You want to dry my boobs off with that?”

“It’s clean!”

“Don’t be silly.”

“You’ll be glad for my silliness when our baby comes,” he says, dropping the towel to start tickling you mercilessly.

Your stomach muscles heave with your fit of giggles, and the baby starts kicking to join in on the commotion.

“Ah! No t-tickling, damnit! The b-baby doesn’t like it.”

“No?” Minho stops his playful torment and cups your stomach on either side. It only takes a second for him to feel what you mean. “I think maybe she does.”

“Or he. The baby could be a boy, you know.”

The two of you have decided to keep the gender a surprise until the birth, but that does not stop your husband from speculating.

“Could be,” he says a bit dismissively. He kneels down on the tiled floor so his face is level with your belly-button, which has recently begun to protrude outwards like the rest of you.

He runs his fingers along the surface of your stretched sweater and says quietly, “I just have a hunch that it’s a girl. She’s feisty, like you.” He places a sweet kiss on the top of your belly, then speaks directly to it. “Sorry about the tickling, sweet baby girl. Daddy was just making Mommy laugh to help make her feel better. I have something else that might make her feel better, though.”

“What is it?” you ask.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Minho interlocks his fingers with yours and leads you up the stairs — which have become quite the strain on your knees lately — and to the baby’s room.

The moment he pushes open the door, you see exactly what he means. The crib now resembles a crib and not a scattering of wooden pieces strewn around the floor the way they had been for weeks. The inside is lined with blankets and stuffed animals, and the mobile you chose is hanging above it. It could hardly be more picturesque.

With this, the nursery is complete. The painting had been finished a couple months ago, and the other pieces of necessary and decorative furniture have been set in their places for quite some time as well.

“Wow, you actually finished it?” you say. “How did you have time to do that after work today?”

“You were gone for longer than you realize,” he says, chuckling. “I took half the day off to come home and surprise you, but you weren’t here, so I decided to surprise you with this instead.”

“Consider me surprised,” you say with a smile. You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking over to the crib. You give the rail a little shake to test the sturdiness of your husband’s handiwork, and your eyebrows raise in satisfaction at the result.

“I only had to start all over again once,” Minho says proudly, sidling up beside you and gliding a hand along the small of your back to rest on your hip. His thumb traces little circles into it.

“You did a great job,” you say, turning in his hold to wrap your arms around his waist in return, albeit with a bit of difficulty due to your belly getting in the way.

“Glad you like it.” He leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, then down to your chin, then back up to your mouth. You smile and chase after his lips when he pulls away, and he laughs as he kisses you again. “Come on, let’s sit for a bit and get you off your feet. Dinner and a shower can wait a little while longer.” He moves over to the rocking chair in the corner and takes a seat, then pats his lap invitingly.

“Min, I’ll crush you,” you say with a shake of your head.

He shakes his head right back. “Oh, stop it. No you won’t. You’re not that heavy, and I’m not that fragile.”

He starts beckoning you by stretching his arms out and repeatedly opening and closing his hands. The action is irresistibly cute, so you relent. You toe off your shoes and go to sit on his proposed seat. You try not to rest too much weight on him as you sit on his knee, but he ruins your position by taking your hips and dragging you further up his muscular thigh.

“Put your legs up on me,” he says. “If it’s not too uncomfortable for you, I mean.”

You do as he says and turn sideways to hoist your legs over his other thigh. Minho holds onto your knee with one hand and wraps his other arm behind your back to keep you in place.

“There we go. Is this okay?” he asks.

You shift and wiggle until your back is relatively comfortable. “I think so. Are you okay?”

He smiles and squeezes you reassuringly. “I’ve got my beautiful wife on my lap... we’re sitting right where we’ll be rocking our baby when she — or he — is born... I’d say I’m pretty perfect.”

You take his word for it and sigh in content, leaning into him and resting your head in the crook of his neck. He lays his cheek against your head and pushes his feet off the floor to begin gently rocking the chair as it was intended.

For a few moments, the two of you sit and rock in silence until Minho begins humming softly. Something mellow and baritone. The melody is one you recognize, but the lyrics to that particular song elude you. You’ll ask him about it later. Right now, the vibrations from his throat and the steady thrum of his heartbeat are lulling you peacefully. The faint scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body seep comfortably into your skin.

You tilt your face up to kiss his throat appreciatively for the comfort he is providing. He hums out of tune at your gentle touch, and you kiss him there again. This time you take a bit of his flesh into your mouth with a delicate suck, and he hisses in a short breath. His reaction spurs you to do it again, and then again, until the honey skin is left pink from the teasing.

“Mm, that feels really good, babe,” Minho murmurs. The pet name makes your heart flutter a bit; it was used so frequently at the start of your relationship, but over the years it has become a bit more rare. It makes you feel a little sexy, even in your sweaty, bloated, and achy state.

“Yeah? Should I keep going?” you ask. Your lips ghost over his neck, and your fingers begin trailing down the center of his chest.

“Please.” There is a slight rasp to the syllable that makes you feel proud considering you have barely even done anything to him.

Your fingers find the hems of his sweater and white t-shirt and begin tugging at them. “Do you mind if I take these off?”

“Not at all.” He shrugs out of his cardigan then lifts his arms so you can have the honor of pulling up his shirt to toss it aside. The taut muscles in his chest and abdomen twitch as your fingertips graze them. Before you get to the waistband of his jeans, Minho takes your wandering fingers and stops you.

“Wait,” he says. You look at him curiously. “You said you had a rough day. I should take care of you.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, I figured I could start by getting you out of your clothes, and then we can see where things lead.”

Sex with your husband has been infrequent over the course of your thirty-week pregnancy so far, but it has occurred. The doctor assured you there are no complication risks involved, even when this far along. Your pregnancy is perfectly healthy, and sex is not harmful to the baby, so you and Minho are free to continue your normal sex life.

The problem is you don’t always feel up for sex. Between your various aches and the increasing challenge of finding a comfortable position, you sometimes have to wonder if an orgasm is really worth the trouble. But it has been a while since your last release, and you trust Minho to be caring and attentive, so you nod in agreement.

He guides you to stand up from his lap, and you allow him to remove your shirt. The sheen of sweat that has been building for the greater part of the afternoon is made even more apparent when the open air meets it.

“Ugh, I still feel gross,” you mutter under your breath. The inkling of sexiness you felt just moments ago is already gone.

“You don’t look gross,” Minho says. He scans you from head to toe before settling his gaze on your chest. “Will you take your bra off for me, please?”

You hesitate a few seconds, then unhook the restrictive garment and shrug out of it to let it drop to the floor. The moment it is gone, Minho reaches out to grasp your hips and slide his hands up along the expanse of your stomach. His warm, tender touch sends a shiver through you, and the baby begins fidgeting again. Your husband must feel it, too, because he smiles up at you brightly.

“God, how did I get so lucky? You are so beautiful.” His tone carries real sincerity. “Especially with your body like this, carrying our child. You’re so fucking… wonderful.”

You automatically let out an unflattering snort of self-consciousness as you think of the new stretch marks striping your breasts, hips, and stomach. You can’t even bring yourself to look at them right now.

“I mean it. It’s true,” he insists. His eyes drop to your bare stomach to look at what you will not. “It’s amazing how you’re able to grow a baby inside of you, just because I came in you.”

There is laughter in your breathy exhale. “Gee, you make it sound so sexy, Min.”

“But it is sexy. You’re growing hands and feet and… eyes inside your womb right now, this very moment.”

You wrinkle your nose. “That doesn’t sound sexy at all. It sounds scientific.”

“Yeah, but it’s also kind of magical, isn’t it? And just think about it: you’ll be able to feed the baby with your body, too…” Minho folds his bottom lip between his teeth for a second as he studies your chest with great interest. “Just look at these perfect tits, getting all swollen with milk for our baby.”

He starts to squeeze, lift, and massage your breasts reverently, completely undeterred by the stickiness coated on the undersides of them from your sweat. A quiet moan rumbles up from your throat.

Even though he is being gentle, the stimulation is still enough to make your nipples begin discharging a thick fluid that is slightly yellow in color. The sight of it kind of embarrasses you, even though it is completely natural. Your doctor explained that it is the “pre milk” before your body begins producing normal breast milk after the birth.

“Min…” you fret with a nervous giggle. You peel his hands away and take a step back from him.

“It’s okay, babe,” he says. He stands up and rearranges your hands so that he is the one holding yours. “It’s just your body, don’t be ashamed. I told you, you’re beautiful. You’re wonderful. You’re amazing.”

He lifts the heavy mounds on your chest again and presses them together as if to get a better view of the wetness seeping from them. He swipes his thumbs over both of your wet nipples, then casually sticks one of his thumbs in his mouth as if he has done this many times before.

“Mm, tastes sweet,” he says.

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Can I… do you think I could...” He trails off in a puff that sounds like he is the one who’s embarrassed. Eventually, he blurts, “I want to try some more.”

“What, you want to actually… drink it?” you ask. The notion surprises you, and you want to make sure you are understanding him correctly.

“I’d like to try, if you’re comfortable with that. I just want to appreciate your body in every way.”

Minho rolls a sensitive pebble between his thumb and forefinger as he waits for your reply.

After another second, you nod your consent, and he flashes you a toothy smile before he latches his mouth directly onto your nipple. The touch of his soft lips coupled with the tip of his tongue makes you gasp in pleasure. Goosebumps break out over your skin as he suckles delicately. You have to admit the sensation of the fluid flowing from your nipple is oddly satisfying, and the wet suction sound Minho is creating is more than a little erotic. Heat starts to pool between your legs to dampen your panties.

“Is this okay?” he asks you again, peering up at your face as he switches to the other tit. When his tongue takes the nipple in between his lips, you notice it is coated with a milky sheen.

“Yeah, it… it actually feels really good,” you confess. Without consciously choosing to do it, your thighs press together to apply some pressure to your clit. Even with your stomach in the way, Minho’s smirk tells you he does not miss the action.

“Are you wet down there between your legs, too?”

“Yes.”

“Dripping?”

“Mm…”

“I want to feel.”

“Be my guest,” you invite. He goes to slip his hand past the waistband of your pants, but you quickly instruct, “Just take them off.”

He does not need to be told twice. He detaches from your breast and yanks your pants down to your ankles. You steady yourself on his shoulders as you pull your feet free.

“Panties, too,” you add, but his fingers are already hooking into them.

Once they are shed, Minho takes his time running his warm hands back up your calves to your inner thighs, spreading your legs just a little wider than hip-width apart. He wastes no more time in dipping the pads of three fingers along your slit. The slickness he finds there has both of you groaning lowly.

“You are wet. Is this all because I sucked a little milk from your tits?”

A slow smile grows across your face. “Maybe.”

“Should I suck some more?”

“I don’t think there’s much in there at a time yet, honestly,” you tell him rather seriously. “Not until after the baby is born.”

He hums in understanding. “That’s okay, babe. I’ll settle for eating your pussy, if that’s alright,” he says, sinking two knuckles inside you.

“J-Jesus, Min. Y-yeah. Please.”

He grins, drawing his fingers back a little just to shove them in forcefully. “Alright. Have a seat for me,” he says. He removes his fingers from you and slides them into his mouth for the taste of something else. He really does adore all parts of you.

The rocking chair tips backwards when you settle into it, which only improves the access Minho has to your pussy. He makes it even easier for himself, however, by kneeling down and hoisting your legs onto each of his shoulders.

“Is this good?” he asks. He brings his head between your thighs and dots soft kisses along one of them.

You scoot your butt to the very edge of the seat. “Yeah, for now. I’ll let you know if it starts to hurt.”

“Please do,” he agrees at once.

He leans forward and parts your sticky folds with two fingers before dragging his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top in one slow, firm motion. Your breath hitches in your chest when he buries the pink muscle into your wet hole. He licks in a circle from one pulsing wall to the other and back again, then pulls back and licks his lips.

“Do you want my tongue in you and fingers on your clit, or my tongue on your clit and fingers in you?” he asks. He does not normally require such direct instructions, but he has been so concerned with you in your pregnant state. He wants to make sure he is giving you as much pleasure as possible, and he does not want any room for misunderstanding or disappointment.

“Fingers inside, please,” you say.

Minho fits one finger back inside your pussy, soon followed by a second, and your walls squeeze tightly around the digits to welcome and secure them. Then he flattens his tongue to press it back and forth, up and down over your clit. He builds a steady pace that renders your eyes closed and mouth unhinged to let flow a stream of pleasurable sighs and moans. Your pitch heightens considerably when his fingers hit pay dirt on that spot inside you that always makes your toes curl. When you rock against his face to get all the friction you can, the chair moves with you.

“Shit, this is so hot, babe,” your husband groans from below. “Should’ve eaten you out in a rocking chair a long time ago.”

You start to respond but your words pinch into a squeal from a particularly strong tap against your g-spot with his fingertips, and that seems to be all the answer he could want.

Minho becomes greedy for your unfiltered noises and closes his lips around your clit to suck it the way he sucked your nipples just moments earlier. A shiver tumbles down each rung of your spine, all the way to your clenched toes. Your muscles tense to cope with the sheer intensity of the pleasure being administered to that oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. His fingers work tirelessly to undo you in tandem with his skillful tongue. The crest of your climax is drawing near so soon.

“Oh my god, Min,” you breathe with hardly any sound. “Fuck, you’ve got me so close already.”

He grunts his acknowledgement. “Is this how you want to come, doll? All over my fingers? All over my tongue?”

It is very tempting, but you still decline. “N-no. I want you inside me.”

“I’m already inside you.” He twists his fingers pointedly. “Can you be more specific?”

“You know what I mean,” you groan.

He has to get in a few more swipes of his tongue before he can say, “Yeah, but I want to hear you say it. You can have everything you want if you ask me.”

“I want your c-cock inside me. Now, please.”

Minho makes no move to cease his actions other than to briefly retract his tongue to speak again. “You sure you don’t want me to just keep going? You’re so close.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. Please, fuck me already.”

The moan he lets out when he pulls away from you and gets to his feet is positively carnal. He rushes to undo his jeans, then shoves both them and his underwear to the floor in one swoop. You tilt your head to take in the view of his erect cock; the bulbous head is nearly purple from engorgement, and there is a glistening wetness at the slit from a buildup of precum.

“How do you want me?” he asks.

“Let’s try the chair.”

“Do you want to bend over it and I’ll fuck you from behind? Or do you want me to sit down and have you ride me?”

“Sit down and I’ll try riding you.”

You rock yourself up and out of the chair, and Minho takes a firm hold of each of your hands to help tug you to your feet. He kisses you quick and sloppy, giving you a quick taste of your arousal, before switching places with you and taking a seat. His cock points upwards as the perfect target for you to sit on.

You face away from him and straddle his legs to get yourself in position. One of his hands steadies your lowering hips as the other lines his dick up for entry. The tip squeezes into your warm wetness with ease. Minho spreads his legs wider and thrusts up to fit a few more inches of himself. With another shove from him and a bit of wriggling on your part, he bottoms out.

“Fuck, you always feel so fucking good,” he rumbles from behind you. Both of his hands are clenched tightly on your hips now.

You moan in agreement. “So do you.”

Bracing yourself on the arms of the chair, you raise yourself up a couple inches, then sink back down swiftly. Minho plants his feet firmly to keep the chair steady and meet you blow for blow as you start up a rhythm. The two of you grunt and pant with every stroke; the sounds are out of sync, but your movements are not.

The friction feels good, but your looming orgasm from earlier is not quite building again as you had hoped it would. Furthermore, your arms are already beginning to tremble from your efforts.

“Shit,” you swear in frustration. “Maybe this won’t work after all.”

He brings up his earlier suggestion and says, “Want to try bending over?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s try that.”

His wet dick falls out of you to slap against his stomach when you stand up from his lap. Again, the two of you switch positions so you can lean down and prop your arms along the armrests of the chair. The seat tilts downward as you bend over and press your head against the back of it, and your breasts hang heavy below you. You vaguely notice they have begun to leak again.

Minho steps up behind you and returns his hands to your waist to lift your backside a little higher to expose yourself to him. The head of his cock briefly pokes over your asshole when he guides it into place at your pussy again. With a sigh of satisfaction, he pushes back inside and waits for an extended moment while you to readjust to the tight stretch of his girth.

When you tell him you’re ready, he recreates the rhythm you had started earlier, but at a slightly faster tempo now. Each smack of his tensed thighs against your buttocks makes your breasts bounce — another motion that does not go unnoticed by him.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathes. One of his hands reaches over to cup one swinging breast and then the other. His fingers toy at your wet nipples once more. “You’re already such a MILF.”

The term makes you burst into surprised laughter. “Oh my god, please do not call me that,” you say.

“Why not?” Minho laughs back. “It’s true. You’re so. Damn. Sexy.” He emphasizes each word with concise, gasp-inducing thrusts. “And motherhood is only going to enhance that.”

“Ungh, right now I just want to come,” you groan, not interested in continuing a conversation at the moment, no matter how flattering. Your body feels heavy, but the coil in you is getting close to snapping again. “Please, Min... please…”

“Oh, you will, doll. I want you to come just as badly.” He pinches your drippy nipple with one hand, maneuvers the other hand around your waist, under your stomach, between your legs to trap your throbbing clit between two fingers. “Want you to come all over this cock.”

“Keep going and I will,” you promise him.

He speeds his hips up until he is hitting your g-spot with every push. He rubs and plays with your clit just the way you like. The steady whapping sound of skin on skin fills the nursery, along with your breathless encouragements for your husband to keep groping, keep pounding, keep going.

“You’re dripping everywhere for me, aren’t you, baby?” he grunts, his breath hot and ragged. “Got your sticky little clit in one hand, and your tit is leaking in my other.”

He is not wrong. Everything is so wet, so hot, so sticky. You whimper and repeatedly push back against him to further increase the friction.

“So fucking filthy,” he goes on, nearly growling. “Makes me want to bust and fill you up with cum. There’s gonna be so fucking much of it.”

His words, combined with a few more sweeps of his fingers over your clit and stabs of his cockhead against the sweetest part of you, burst you straight through the roof of your climax. With a whiny, broken moan, your pussy clamps him tightly, and it is not more than four of five more strokes before he joins you in sheer bliss. He seizes and grunts deeply as his cum shoots out of his twitching cock to meet the resistance of your already-occupied womb. He was right — there is a lot of it. The viscous white fluid oozes out of you and down along your thighs before the spurts have even finished trickling out of him.

Both pairs of legs between the two of you are shaky as Minho pulls out of your swollen pussy with a slick squelch. He helps straighten your body and pulls you into an adoring hug as you both regain your lost breath. His sweaty chest is nearly as damp as yours as it heaves against your back. You can feel his heart racing.

“You alright, doll?” he checks while dotting sweet kisses along your shoulder. “Was that good?”

“Very good,” you pant with a blissed smile. You turn your head to the side and pucker your mouth for a kiss. Your lower belly is cramping from the intensity of your orgasm, and you massage it absently as Minho’s lips envelop yours. His fingers bump yours as he, too, goes to cradle your stomach.

“How’s our little princess?” he asks next.

“Fine,” you answer. You kiss him deeply and whisper against his mouth: “We’re both just fine, thanks to the daddy.”

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

copyright © 2024 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

#lee know smut #minho smut #lee minho smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know x reader #minho x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #wondrous #daizymax

[nonegenderleftpain]

To all the new, young MCR fans out there who are just finding them during this tour - you will never know what it was like to be a fan back before and during the hiatus.

And that's a good thing.

I have been following My Chemical Romance since I was ten years old. MCR was the band that the freaks liked. The band that young queer kids were called fags and dykes for liking. Someone once called them the "poster child for suicidal depression," and they aren't wrong. We watched the band struggle with drugs and drinking and idolized how much they were able to do while blackout on tour, because if they could do something so powerful at such a disadvantage, then maybe we could, too. We watched the popularization of "guyliner," because having a term for men wearing makeup could make it an ironic fashion statement instead of a deliberate choice that would get you left bloody and unconscious on the floor of a gas station bathroom. We watched these guys destroy themselves, and we saw ourselves in them because we were destroyed, too. We wanted to believe that we could be just as important, no matter how broken we were, and we found shared experiences at concerts and cafeterias and skate parks and libraries, with other fucked up kids that wanted to listen to the guys that didn't care if people called them gay. The guys that made out on stage to the jeers of thousands of people and got bottles of piss thrown at them but kept doing it anyway. The guys that played with gender and sexuality and everything on the fringes of acceptability, in their lyrics and their performance and the way they treated each other.

This was important. It was life-saving. It provided a comparatively safe space in an unsafe cultural environment for the freaks to find comfort in. It was also hugely and dangerously unhealthy.

I've talked at length to my friends about how healing and lifechanging this tour has been for me, and I want to illuminate that for these young fans that are falling in love with MCR like I did when I was their age. When we were kids, most of our heroes were already dead. They died young, had tragic lives, and we saw ourselves in them. I fully believed MCR would end up the same way. It would have been so easy to be martyrs - to die young and beautiful. Gerard said it himself, back in the day, that MCR was destined to die young in a car crash and stay beautiful forever, and I think he truly believed that.

So they broke up. And, like a miracle, things started to change. They got clean. Got married. Had kids. Not just Gee, but the lot of them. They aged out of the 27 club, and then out of their 30s, and they only seemed to continue to thrive. Today, in 2022, Gerard Way is 45 years old. He has wrinkles. He has a daughter who is older now than I was when she was born. And they are touring again.

The cultural change from when I was a teenager to now, when you guys are, is monumental. It's insane. It's fantastic. Back in the day, Gerard made some occasional comments about playing with gender presentation (that all us trans people, including those of us that didn't even know yet, hunted down and cherished and kept in our chests for safekeeping), but the idea of doing something so flagrant as headlining Riot Fest in a dress was ludicrous. It would have gotten him booed (still did, even now). It could have gotten him killed. The fact that Gerard Way has stepped on stage three separate times this tour in a dress (so far! it's not over!) is such an incredible, monumental change from when I was a kid and I am so, so happy for you to be experiencing it as kids.

I had a cry about this at a P!ATD concert in 2018, after seeing preteens running down the halls in pride flags, and I feel even more strongly about it now than I did then. That you're able to talk openly about Gerard's gender performance without fear, that you're able to hear them go by he/they pronouns, that you're able to interact with other young fans in the wake of MCR's revival in a safe environment and take in the messages that are at the core of what they stand for? These are beautiful fucking things.

You can't know what it was like, growing up with MCR back in the day. But you get to know what it's like to grow up with them now. Cherish that. In Detroit, Gerard told us to take our meds, and reminded us that we made it. They made it. They fought through the hard parts, fought the demons, and came out the other side better for it. As you watch them put those demons to rest from concert to concert, know that there are older fans cheering you on, so fucking happy to see you sharing this experience with us, and so excited to see what way this changes you. We know it changed us.

#my chemical romance #mcr #mcr 2022 #my chem #gerard way #gender stuff #music stuff #mcr are my heroes and i dont use that word lightly #this tour has only further cemented my deep respect for them as performers and as people #seeing them so full of joy and life is so novel and i dont think it will ever feel like anything short of a miracle

[officialspec]

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

first off i hate this ask and i think youre a freak. in any other world i wouldve blocked you for this but unfortunately for both of us i actually like this type of philosophy. dont send this shit to anyone else though

i dont think its right to compare human sexuality to the same thing in animals, to get that out of the way. im sure until a certain point it comes from the same biological impulses, but human beings have way more complicated social structures and reasons for coupling that just do not exist in other animals. our social behaviours are what make us unique in the animal kingdom and that definitely extends to gender and sexuality. so theres that

people love to tout 'gender is a social construct' around like its a criticism in and of itself, which i think betrays a misunderstanding about social constructs in general. theyre the foundations we build language on to better understand each other, and affected by a whole host of cultural and historical factors. just because theyre subjective and complicated doesnt mean they arent real. in terms of the effect they have on peoples lives they may be the most real thing that exists

for example, 'kindness' is a social construct. the definition and ways it is enacted differ greatly across personal and cultural lines. but no one would ever suggest a world where kindness doesnt exist or loses meaning, because its an essential part of the way we interact with each other (in the same way i dont really see a world where gender entirely ceases to exist, mainly just one where people have more fun with it. im not a psychic though so who knows)

similarly, sexuality in humans is another social construct. i think the driving biological forces behind it are very real, but the labels people attach to those impulses are subjective attempts to express their inner world to the people around them if that makes sense. and those same biological impulses are ALSO subject to social ideas of gender, because those ideas are established at birth and reinforced over a persons entire lifetime

to use myself as an example, im a gay trans man. ive identified as other things in the past, because i was trying to pick apart feelings i had and express them to others in an attempt to find community. my identity might change as i get older and experience new things, or it might not. i identify as gay because im not attracted to the social concept of women, and someone i would otherwise be attracted to might lose all appeal after i find out they fall under that concept (this has happened before w transfems pre and post coming out lol)

of course, the real REAL answer to this is that trying to give queer identities rigid and objective definitions is a fools errand, and also lame as fuck. someone might identify as gay and be more attracted to general masculinity than men as a social category, maybe they fool around with a couple of butch women without considering themself any less gay. two otherwise identical people might be a butch lesbian and a gay trans man without either of those identities coming into conflict. they might even be the same person at different times of the week

the labels people choose to use are communication tools, not objective signifiers. if you dont understand them, they probably arent talking to you

social constructs are everything. we as humans have the unique ability to interpret our own messy desires and impulses into words that other people can use to form an idea of someone else in their mind. its how we build connections, and of course it isnt perfect because trying to squeeze someones entire personal history and the centuries of context that defined it into a handful of syllables is going to leave some room for error. but its all we have, yknow? so we keep trying. and i think thats much more human than any imposed objective 'truth' could ever be

tldr we live in a society dipshit. get with it

#ask #long post #i feel like i should tag for the ask bc it sucks but idk what so like. lmk #gender #trans stuff #i love you language philosophy i love you messy human relationships i love you contradictory identities

[saintsenara]

Thoughts on remadora?

thank you very much for the asks, anons!

while they are by no means my otp, i really enjoy remadora as pairing - and i think they’re fully up there among the canon couples in terms of being an amazing vehicle through which to explore all sorts of questions about life and love - which i am aware is a sufficiently controversial statement that it involves an immediate engagement with some discourse…

because remadora girlies [gender neutral] get an enormous amount of shit within the fandom, particularly from fans who consider wolfstar to be a more plausible pairing for lupin than tonks. i have seen remadora shippers called homophobes for simply enjoying the couple, justified with the bizarre idea that it disrespects remus' relationship with sirius [so... the non-canon one?] to put them together. i have seen tonks turned into a pathetic shrew who is trying to keep remus from the real love of his life by trapping him with an unwanted baby. i have seen remadora shippers get a lot of the usual stuff that people who prefer the canon-endgame couples do [that to ship a canon pair is boring, that it is indicative of a lack of talent, that it indicates an uncritical support for jkr] magnified to eleven because tonks has the temerity to be a barrier to remus’ relationship with the fandom’s favourite hot and brooding man.

obviously, this is bullshit - primarily because its unreasonable and cruel to invest so much time and energy being mean to people because of their harry potter shipping preferences [fandom should never be that deep].

but it’s also a disappointment to me personally because it means that it can be very hard to find the sort of remadora i like without looking like i’m coming to contribute to the pile-on. because where many remadora fans and i don’t see eye-to-eye is that i have absolutely no interest in thinking about them as a relationship which is actually functional. and, all too often, i find myself sifting through fics which do prefer to interpret them like this - as romantic and passionate and stable - largely, i think it’s fair to say, as a defensive move against the tide of “urgh, imagine shipping that” nonsense - even though all the evidence of canon is that they are… very much not.

i am aware of the pottermore article which smoothes the edges of lupin’s canonical reaction to tonks’ feelings for him in half-blood prince - but, while i read this as something of a retcon to make the relationship more palatable, i also don’t think that assuming that both tonks and lupin’s attraction to each other was sincere precludes them being as dysfunctional as they canonically are. i don’t go in for the common anti-remadora argument that tonks “forces” him into a relationship with her - it’s clear in half-blood prince that it’s not only her who has discussed her feelings with molly and arthur weasley, lupin is definitely flirting with her when they pick harry up in order of the phoenix, lupin is an adult man [no matter other power imbalances between him and tonks - such as the fact that she is an agent of the state which oppresses him] who possesses the capacity to refuse her advances, and - since teddy’s conception is not immaculate - he has no issue with enjoying a sexual relationship with her even if he then wants to run away from the product of that.

instead, what i like with remadora is that they reveal something which goes against the grain of the rest of the series: that love is not always enough. throughout the seven-book canon, we see time and time again the idea that love - and, crucially, love-as-noble-suffering and love-as-sacrifice - is enough to overcome any problem. entire civil service collaborating with a terrorist regime? don’t trouble yourself, love has won. your mother dying in childbirth leaving you to be neglected in a state institution? your own fault you’re not interested in love.

i understand the genre reasons for this, but i also love the way in which lupin especially exists on the margins of these genre conventions [just as he exists on the margins of wizarding society!]. i’m always struck in deathly hallows that he’s the only person who’s actually realistic about the demands of war - particularly when he tells harry that it is breathtakingly naive for him to think he can get through the fighting without having to shoot to kill - and that part of him having to be shuffled out of the way when harry tells him to return to the pregnant tonks is because, were the story focused on realism, the idea that a wanted man who is considered an unhuman by the state fleeing in order to guarantee the safety of his wife and unborn child becomes eminently reasonable and harry's defense of the nuclear family embarrassingly unradical.

and so i like the idea of lupin seeing tonks - and tonks seeing lupin - initially as just a bit of fun, as the two of them being just two chill single people who think the other is hot and interesting and want to bang because of it.

[which is something fandoms in general really struggle with as a concept. we like epic love stories - and you won't find me objecting to that! - but we're less good at thinking about casual sexual attraction or transient friendships, and how these can be transformative and meaningful without having to end up going any sort of distance.]

and i then like the idea of the relationship being forced into a profundity it doesn’t really have the juice to sustain by the sheer avalanche of grief which besets the two of them - sirius, dumbledore, mad-eye, ted - and by the pressure of the war and the fact that the order is scrambling and the hangover of remus' self-destruction in half-blood prince which makes each cling to the other as a life-raft. i like remadora as something codependent and messy and strange and sad, and i don’t think this prevents it being sincere and fun and based in mutual attraction, but instead that these positive qualities can exist in conjunction with the fact that, without the war, it would have been a summer of fucking and that was probably it.

on tonks herself, i don’t think i can say it better than @evesaintyves in this meta on her character. i’ve been really uncomfortable with quite a lot of stuff i’ve seen recently which has taken against the idea that tonks can be meaningfully read as queer on the basis of what we find in the text, above all because it so often comes with the implication that one cannot imagine her in her canon endgame pairing and presume that she’s something other than straight or cisgender. eve sets out an excellent case for tonks as bolshy and liberated and in tune with herself and fun and confused and in flux and still figuring stuff out about who she is and where she’s going - and this translates, may i say, to an astonishingly beautiful way of writing her, lupin, and the dysfunction inherent between them which i highly recommend you read.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #remadora #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks

[angstics]

i do think what ever is going on with my chemical romance and sexuality + gender is more complicated than "these people are straight" or "these people are queer". they ~came out~ as straight a few times. they're gen x. the 90s - 00s were TERRIBLE to nonconforming people. theyre obviously into women. most of their Statements were pre 2016 and now their support is lowkey.

im always reminded of the kurt cobain 1992 advocate quote: “If I wouldn't have found Courtney, I probably would have carried on with a bisexual lifestyle.” of the billie joe armstrong 2010 out mag quote: "But I'd never say that I'm not [bisexual]. I dont really classify myself as anything. And when it comes to sex, there are parts of me that are very shy and conservative. I want to respect my wife." of this entire pete wentz 2008 out article, which ends with the writer's conviction: "So maybe its time for a little fuck-you of our own, at least to the idea that a guy cant be a good queer role model unless he actually has sex with men." of the grant morrison 2022 rolling stone quote: "The 'they' thing was kind of given to me, and I’ve accepted it as a badge of honor."

this was the gen x / 90s - 00s understanding of queerness. this is why i dont trust labels -- they can mean anything. i trust expression and i trust action.

#if youre gonna act queer im going to call you queer as a badge of fucking honor. #mcr #q.txt #queer tag #mcr queer studies #qessay

[ecoamerica]

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[rthko]

Thoughts on "nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny" from one genderfluid perspective. TL;DR is that while the sentiment is true, I don't like how it became THE defining slogan of nonbinary activism.

Nonbinary people don't "owe" anyone androgyny. Indeed, no one "owes" any particular expression for their gender to be recognized and respected. I think it's an important message. So why am I not satisfied?

To start, the implication I read is that labels and pronouns are easier than self presentation. For me, this is the exact opposite. When my own self conceptualization is ephemeral, relational, conditional, it is actually much easier to literally and figuratively wear my gender on my sleeve than it is to put it into words. When I wear a blouse, dangly earrings, paint my nails, pitch up my voice, people will for better or for worse treat me differently. I can work with these associations, but to say THIS is my label, THESE are my pronouns, THIS is my name, THIS is how I see myself is just exhausting. I don't even know or care half the time.

A similar slogan is "clothing does not equal gender." Very well, but what if I don't view my gender as a prediscursive essence? What if I do resonate with statements like "born naked and the rest is drag?" What if clothing, makeup, gestures, and perceptions do factor into my identity? This is how some nonbinary identities and experiences are rendered inconvenient or, forgive the word choice here, politically incorrect. Many such identities are too inconvenient to state in public discourse. I worry that the push for visibility is too often a push for legibility and taxonomic convenience; to "see like a state," as it were.

Back to "nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny:" I think the more pressing conversation here is what exactly we mean by androgyny. Is it simply a matter of mixed gendered signifiers, or is it based on a more literal standard of "passing?" Who is capable of androgyny? Under what circumstances is androgyny desirable? It is said that only young, skinny white people are capable of androgyny. Is this true? If androgyny is the domain of youth, why do cis seniors undergo hormone treatments to prevent being androgynized? If androgyny is the domain of thinness, why do fat women held to higher standards of femininity and fat men to higher standards of masculinity to be fully legible as their genders? If androgyny is the domain of whiteness, why does so much racial dehumanization depend on de-gendering? Why are so many cultural norms read as gender nonconforming by the dominant culture, despite making no such pretenses themselves? So, "androgyny" here is more precisely "androgyny on one's own terms." The young, thin, white body can inhabit a sort of glam-rock, science fiction, mythic androgyny, but androgyny is otherwise dehumanizing and incomprehensible.

I see a need then, not merely to deem androgyny unnecessary, but to expand the definition and defend non-conventional expressions thereof. Nonbinary people are often both envious and terrified of androgyny. We ask: When does "quirky" become "clocky?" When does glamorous and sexy become somehow both neutered and perverted? To put it another way, when does "they" become "it?" Indeed, many reclamations of "it" explore this very question. Even as a thin, white, and young person, I worry that my increasingly fluid gender expression toes this line. Among gay men, camp and femininity are deployed specifically to disarm sexual possibility. Not into him? Put him in the "sis zone." When slight adjustments to language and gesture are sexually disqualifying, what happens with physical and chemical interventions to the sexed body?

There is obviously a stereotype that nonbinary people do not physically transition. I don't think "nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny" or any similar sloganeering is to blame; I think this is moreso the result of trans people having to overstate the binary-ness of their gender to receive gender affirming care. The nuances of trans identity gets flattened for the convenience of cis observers and medical gatekeepers. I always knew I was a girl deep down, I played with dolls and looked up to Disney princesses, I have never enjoyed sex and only dissociated my way through it, et cetera. No one should be required to transition, but for this reason I see it as important to recognize that nonbinary people can and do transition (and that even binary trans identities are more complicated than these narratives allow).

Transition is something I have long considered, but fluidity throws a wrench into the plot. I don't update the world every time I feel this way, but there are times and instances in which I sincerely want to be perceived as a woman. Then, there are instances in which "gay man" is more than a default but something personal and powerful to me, molded in my image by history, culture, and my experience within and around the category. It is for this reason that "what if I regret it" anxiety is probably justified. If I conditionally want to be seen as a woman, there will be no "before and after" motivational images. The "androgynous" fledgling stages are all I have. Genderfluidity is just one reason people inhabit the awkward in-between stages. More often, it is because people lack the financial, logistical, or legal capacity to transition.

No one should be pressured to appear androgynous, but this pressure is made worse by the dehumanization, amplified by class and racial dimensions, associated with gender ambiguity. It is rarely glamorous beyond editorial photoshoots and closed-off internet circles. The fear of being rendered incomprehensible, undesirable, unresolved or incomplete holds people back from gender experimentation and self determination. So, nonbinary people don't owe any particular expression, but I have a question: Who's afraid of androgyny?

[clockwayswrites]

Specter of Starlight Snippet

Continuing this week of posting snippets since I'm K.O.ed. From this idea here. Two parts and another snippet.

-----

“That’s it, we can’t be friends any more. You’re dead to me,” Danny said, hand to his heart as if Tim had mortally wounded him.

Friends. Danny thought they were friends. He shook his head to clear it and gave back his best smirk. “I’m sorry, Deep Space 9 is just patently better than Enterprise.” “But they don’t go anywhere!” Danny whined. “Star Trek’s whole thing is to ‘boldly go where no man has gone before’ and you can’t do that in a space station!” “That’s just a cover and you know it. Star Trek is about exploring the human condition— especially by using aliens to do it. Going where no man has gone before is using a cheesy sci-fi show to talk about race and sexuality and gender. By putting it on a space station they can really focus in on that without all the other distractions.” “Distractions!” Tim couldn’t help the snort of amusement at how insulted Danny managed to sound on that one word. “Distractions he says. Red. Red, why.” “You know I’m right,” Tim said, putting every ounce of Bristol born and raise snobbery into the statement as he could. “This is an insult to Picard,” Danny managed to say between his laughter. Tim could feel the grin stretch across his face at Danny’s laughter. The other— his friend— had seemed a subdued when Tim had first landed on the roof that night. Tim was glad to see Danny’s mood lightening. He didn’t want to see that listlessness clinging to Danny like that again. “I would never insult Picard,” Tim assured Danny. Danny smiled back, relaxing against the gargoyle behind him. “Good, or else it would be pistols at dawn or something.” “Pistols at dawn?” “You know, duel of honor.” Tim’s nose wrinkled at the thought. Sure, Jason had taught him to shoot (he insisted Tim needed to know how to handle a gun for safety reasons), but Tim still didn’t like handling them. “Can’t we use swords?” “No. You’d win in two seconds,” Danny said with a little wave of his hand. “At least with a gun I have a shooting chance.” “Danny,” Tim groaned at the joke. Then the implication of rest of the statement caught up to him. “You know how to shoot?” “Oh, sure. I grew up around fire arms… of a type,” Danny said. His smile slid off into a little, pensive frown. “Pull one out of a couch cushion enough and you sorta have to learn how to handle it safely, you know?” Tim’s spine straightened in alarm. “Out of a couch cushion?” “Yeah. Hey, it’s fine,” Danny said. The smile he plastered on was far from convincing. “It’s… I’m not there anymore. The guns aren’t really my worry right now.” “Danny…” “It’s fine," Danny snapped back before curling up a little from his own tone. He picked at his nails, eyes darting out over the dark city. "Come on, time to rank the captains. Janway verses Pike.” Tim took a steadying breath and counted to five. He wouldn’t press. But he wouldn’t forget either. “Okay, pilot Pike, reboot Pike, or Strange New Worlds?” “Strange New What?” “You haven’t seen it? Okay so…” Tim launched into talking about the new series and the whole effect of the streaming platform on the series. He knew it was just a distraction, but he wanted Danny’s smile to come back. He just wanted Danny happy.

-----

AN: No tagging cause I'm dead and it's not in order. But it is part of the next part! Which is mostly these two being goofs and talking about various things. Who do you think is right? Enterprise or Deep Space 9?

Stay delightful everyone~

#dp x dc #danny fenton #tim drake #tim/danny #brain dead #dead tired #brain dead ship #nerds being nerds

[vexingwoman]

do you ever have those moments of guilt for what you believe in? I was crypto until someone outed me in real life, and the way I’m completely shunned is making rethink everything I thought was true. I can’t tell anymore if I really am just a common bigot or if everyone’s gone insane. I wish there were more resources for “terfs” who have been outed against their will. It’s scary, and the community *never* talks about what to do.

It seems pretty stupid to feel like a bigot for believing in sexual dimorphism but hey. If someone said the sky was green and berates you for thinking otherwise….wouldn’t you just start thinking the sky is green. Or at least wanting to.

Yes, in the beginning stages of my peak, watching women who I considered highly intelligent defending this sexist nonsense constantly made me doubt myself. I used to contact some of these women with my ideological concerns and ask for their input, because back then I was still convinced there was surely something I just wasn’t getting. I still had hope that someone could offer something other than circular definitions or uselessly obscure non-answers, but they never did. Every single person I attempted to have this conversation with simply stopped replying when I rejected their sophism and pressed for actual clarifications.

There was this one non-binary female I was debating who said, “No matter what you think, we will always continue to exist” which was so contrived I could only roll my eyes. But then I kept thinking about that statement and why it didn’t sit right with me. I realized it was because despite how much the TQ+ community declares that gender is a social construct, they fail to see their gender identities as something contingent on that social construct. 

They depict their gender identities as something innate, something they are born with, something comparable to being black, disabled, homosexual, or any other demographic that would continue to exist independently of social constructs. That could be why you’re so doubtful; you’re being made to believe that rejecting trans ideology is the same as being racist, ableist, and homophobic, when in reality it’s more similar to rejecting religion, conservatism, conspiracy theories, etc. You are not rejecting a person, you are rejecting an idea—a regressive and harmful idea at that. 

I also think it’s objectively observable that trans ideology has far more overlaps with homophobia and misogyny than radical feminism does. Ie., trans ideology asserts that if you’re feminine, you must be a woman. Homophobes and misogynists assert that if you’re a woman, you must be feminine. Both of these groups are upholding the same sexist stereotypes, just in reversed ways.

On the other hand, radical feminists don’t believe femininity has anything to do with being a woman at all. Anyone who is intellectually honest can tell who the real bigots are. Unfortunately, trans ideology is anything but intellectually honest. It relies on deceit through word-play, circular definitions, and sophism because intellectual honesty would reveal how unsound, sexist, homophobic, and regressive this ideology actually is.

#terfsafe #terfblr #radical feminism #radblr #gender critical #radical feminist safe #misogny #sexism #trans logic #gender abolition #peak #trans cult

[insomniakisses]

The King’s Daughter and the Queen | 1

Character: Omega! Alicent Targaryen Neé Hightower (HOTD)

Reader type: Alpha, Gender neutral, has a penis

Warnings Notes: NSFW MINORS DNI! sexual themes, stepcest, reader is a targaryen, omegaverse au, submissive alpha reader, aegon healena and aemond are reader and alicents kids. Mentions of rhaenyras incest.

Two. / Three. / Three (Alt. Ver)

The familier ache in between your legs woke you, your eyes opening slowly and blurred vision gradually focused on the culpret. Alicent. Your father’s wife. Yet here she was, shamelessly bouncing on your cock hands pinning yours above your head countless loads of cum leaking from her and down your balls onto the bed. Her lips pulling into a smirk when she sees ur wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“A-alicent!” You hiss, fighting to free your hands to push her off of you.

“Who.” Her gaze hardens and her hips slam against u harder making u moan and whine. Her works more a statement than a question.

“Mommy-“ you whine softly and she coos in fake sympathy feeling u arch towards her wanting a kiss.

She happily obliges, kissing u softly before trailing her kisses to your jaw all the way down your neck her pace slowing when she feels you twitch your knot almost pushing in.

She lets out an amused laugh at how u thrash shaking your head telling her not to, that she can’t. But that of course is where u went wrong u never tell mommy what to do. So she simply grabs your throat squeezing it slightly as she slams herself on your knot. Both of you moaning when it does, another load of hot sticky cum shooting from your cock and painting her walls.

Her nails drag across your chest as you pant, her lips leaving soft kisses on ur shoulder. “My sweet alpha” she hums.

Pulling u into a kiss she purposely clenches around you, whispering against your lips “gonna give me another pup huh? Fill me up and breed me just like i want. Thats all you’re good for isn’t it? Just a little fuck toy for your mommy”

You too fucked out to answer as you feel yourself slowly fall back asleep.

—

When you awoke again alicent was laying on your chest, her fingers tracing shapes and mindless pattens on your arms. You smile kissing her head and rolling so she was under you, her arms wrapping around your neck as u lean down to give her a sweet kiss.

“Hello my love” you whisper quietly gently placing a sweet kiss to her nose watching it scrunch slightly and a smile pull at her lips. “Hi baby” she mumbles back, tiredness showing in her voice.

“Your sister and her kids have arrived on dragon back with her new husband,” you watch her roll her eyes a sigh leaving her lips “Daemon.”

You cant help chuckle at her detest for the inappropriate nature of the relationship between your uncle and sister. You kiss her cheek, “Your married to my father baby… we are not exactly the best to have an opinion on inappropriate relationships..” you tease.

“Her kids-“

“Are as legitimate as the ones i sired with you.” You finish giving her a look, while u don’t tend to get involved in the drama between your sister and secret lover you need sometimes remind her of her hypocrisy.

She huffs then pulling you closer feeling you kiss her neck arms tightening around her as she caresses your back.

“I wish people could know that I have sired your pups, all of them. That you could be mine by marriage.”

She smiles sadly, “if people were to find out there would be uproar… your father and I are married and if they were to know that all of the children I bared were the king’s daughter’s and not the king’s himself then there would be serious consequences.”

Your silent then head burried in her neck and a whine leaving you. How you longed to be with her as her wife. To be able to interact with your kids in public for them not to be forced to pay you no attention in the eye of anyone but Alicent. You wanted the freedom to be with the woman you loved and the kids you shared.

Just then a knock sounded on the door, a servant entering with the news that would change your lives.

Part one is up! ^^^^

I've never done a tag list before but i remember you saying you wanted to be tagged sooo... i guess ill add a taglist for this?

Taglist: @fuckinglittlekitten, @sydneyyyya, @federalclassroom, @watercolorskyy

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd omegaverse #hotd x reader #hotd imagines #hotd smut #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon smut #alicent #alicent hightower #alicent targaryen #queen alicent #alicent imagines #alicent x reader #hightower x reader #hotd alicent #alpha reader #omegaverse au #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower imagines