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#QUEER A SLUR?? HONEY
abiglizord · 2 years
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i think its very brave of tumblr to call tik tok sensitive and over the top while they tw queer and q slur
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k1d1c4rus · 2 months
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riding into battle for fob on the plagiarism front by saying pw is queer is like ehhhhhh not sure about that
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imadhatt3r · 2 years
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They really just let anyone have a podcast to brodcast their shitty opinions huh
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stonersolana · 1 year
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Stfu male lover and homophobe
both myself and my spouse are trans sooo 🤷🏻‍♀️
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atyourmerci · 2 months
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Vengeance (500 followers celebration!!)
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The boat scene we deserved ;)
♡ ♡
Summary: Abby finds you drunk, hiding away on a boat. Will you leave your girlfriend and run off with your childhood love?
Warnings: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, sub!reader, hate sex, abby being possessive, cheating (tsk tsk don’t do this), fingering, slapping, slight overstimulation, dubcon since reader is drunk but consenting
A/N: so this is the overall winning poll for the celebration so I hope you all enjoy! I don’t think I’ve ever read boat scene for queer abby so I’m like lowkey scared if this is uncharted territory lmao. Also this like loosely?? Follows what happens in g2 but I just made it gay as fuck also unrealistic for the relationship dynamic but I! Don’t! Care! Okay bye!
♡ ♡
“Thought I’d find you here,” she looks disappointed, but knowingly. Of course she would find you here, where the fuck else would you have gone, home? There was no home.
“Ya’no he’ll kill you too for just coming to find me,” slurs out your mouth, you’d be drinking since dawn perhaps. Drinking every bit you have left, not like you’d have a rainy day in store for you come sunlight.
“I’ll take my chances…” she situates herself up on the bench with her forearms lazily cast over her thighs, “how much have you had to drink,” it’s not accusatory, more of a redundant question she knew the answer to before she’d ever taken off to find you.
You take another hefty swig straight from the dirty bottle, letting the lip knock against your teeth. “Fuck off,” you throw out at her, eyes cast on the doorway she had walked through, both dead men walking now.
“So you want to tell me what happened,” now she begins to pry, all the rumors she had heard, maybe they were true, but she thought she knew you better. Once she did, when she was yours, if you could even call it that. Perhaps unspoken puppy love, a trauma bond of sorts. Whatever it was, was over, not that you ever had the decency to tell her. You were with someone else now, whether it was right or not, it was your newfound reality.
“I’m not like you…” your gaze meets hers at last, the words trail off, she knew what she had heard was true. “I couldn’t fucking do it, she was pregnant, begged for me to spare her…the kid. You don’t understand what it’s like, my morals are fucked from those people. This isn’t us. This isn’t you.”
“You don’t think I’ve been put in fucked situations?”
“That’s my point abby, this is all fucked…” you throw your hands hazardously in the air that springs droplets of the honey liquor flying out. Your feet move on their own, bringing you into an upright position as you begin closing in on her, “we are all just chess pieces in their game, when will you understand that.”
She rises out of her seat to meet your stance, she was much stronger, much more intimidating than you could ever surmount to, but the honey liquid encouragement was working overtime. “So you’re just going to run off? you can’t escape this,” her words reek of venom now.
“Come with me,” it comes out as a plea, but confident in meaning. She lets out a scoff at your attempt, shaking her head at your scheme. “What you’re just going to leave her?” She didn’t need to give a name, a further explanation, you both knew the predicament well enough.
Would you leave her?
“Yes.”
“You’re a fucking ass you know that-“ she begins to walk past you but you take grip at her muscled bicep, you feel as it twitches under your grasp.
“Abby-“ you begin to plead. She gives you one last look of adoration before ripping you to pieces.
She begins backing you into the nearest wall, pushing her hands into your chest to get you to her desired location, “no- fuck you- you don’t get to do that anymore.” She continues to dig her palms into your chest, you try to pull them off of you to no avail, on any day you’d be no match for her strength, but today the liquor only worsened your case.
“You know you’re different,” you bite at her, deepening your gaze, letting your eyes speak louder than your words could. She takes a moment to stare at you, truly wondering if you’d even meant it, if she knew the truth. “Don’t fucking do that-“ her palm grips at your throat now with no real threat as her other palm continues to dig into the flesh of your chest.
“You know it’s true abby.”
“God I fucking hate you,” she says through gritted teeth. She can barely get out the sentence before clashing her mouth against yours. She ravenous, eating you alive, digging her fingers into your soft flesh. She wasn’t allowed to have you for so long, but now, for however long she could, she’d reclaim what was hers.
Shes sloppy, mouth messy against yours as you both fight for dominance, dueling for the right over one another. While her teeth begin to bite down at your lip she brings her wavering fingers to the button of your jeans, attempting to break you out of any confines that are in her way. She rips them down off of you with no generosity as she whips you around so that your chest and palms are pressed into the wall.
You can’t see her, she wanted it that way. This was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself. In the end you were always hers anyways.
You’re left panting into the cold wood of the walls, awaiting her punishment. Her large hands grip into your bare hips, jutting them out so they meet her completely clothed pelvis.
“Always were so pliable huh?” She taunts into the shell of your ear, making you shutter under her breath.
“I hate that you made it happen like this,” her hand swings down and lays a stinging smack into the meat of your ass, you breathe out hoarsely. “I hate what you do to me,” another smack is laid into you, this time eliciting a whine to escape your throat. “I fucking hate what you make me feel,” this time the infliction came harder than the rest, the slick now beginning to run down your thighs, aching so badly to be touched.
“Abby- please.”
Her knee comes between your own, opening them up wider for her, your slick stringing a sticky web between your thighs. Her hand snakes around your waist, without warning leaving a gentle smack onto the mound. You let out an eager whimper at the decadent pain. She rubs the wound quickly after, feeling your built up arousal in her fingertips that elicits a smug groan in your ear.
She continues to rub down your slick slit with no true target in mind, coaxing as many pathetic moans she could get at her indirection for your pleasure.
“Does she touch you like this?”
You don’t respond, brain too fuzzy to play into her antics. Another smack is laid into the soft pink flesh, hitting your swollen clit perfectly.
“Do you let her?” She says with more aggression this time, rubbing harsh circles around your clit now. You can’t help the guttural moan that comes out, “y-YES.” You should lie, but you didn’t want to know what she would do if she found out you were lying.
Her pace doesn’t falter, continuously circling the swollen bud, “does she feel better.” You pause for a moment, knowing the answer but forced with the moral dilemma of speaking it- “no.”
“I know.” Her fingers come off your clit causing a pathetic whine out of you. Her hand comes to the back of you now, her fingertips prodding at your fluttering hole, teasing the impending doom of her cruelty.
“Deep breath,” she commands of you. You pace your rapid breathing to suck in deep- when she hears the air hit your lungs she plunges her pointer and middle finger deep inside. There’s no grace, no sympathy as she beats into you. Her fingers already coated in your slick haphazardly plunging into your sweet spot.
Your screams don’t stop now, so completely full from her fingers, lust coating your eyes over white. You bite into her forearm placed next to your head to stabilize herself, teeth cutting close to the bulging veins. Her own breath beginning to falter, you can hear the faint moans trailing out her own mouth, almost completely covered by your moans.
Your walls start closing in on her fingers, she rips her free hand out of the tight enclosure of your mouth, in seconds working tight circles on your enlarged clit. The sensation of both stimulants drawing you to the edge of your climax “abby- I’m going t-“
“Tell me you don’t love her.”
She wasn’t going to make this easy, of course she wasn’t. But you’d do anything for release now. “I don’t- I- don’t!”
Her fingertips on your clit stop circling as she pinches onto it, and thrusts even harder into your hole, “say her fucking name.”
You’re screaming out, breathless, mind numb, you’d kill to finish at this point.
“I don’t love Ellie! Please!”
“Good girl now cum on my fingers,” and like that she continued, fucking into you relentlessly, fingers barely stable coated in slick at your clit.
Your ears began to ring as your orgasm took full autonomy over you, sending waves of pleasure down your pathetic structure and out through your needy throat. All you could muster out was incoherent spells of curses and the name of your capture. She took everything she could from you, never letting up till you begin to shake from the overstimulation.
Her fingers trailed from your clit to your hip, she dug her nails into the flesh there. The fingers wedged in your hole remained, gently thrusting when she felt it pulse, eliciting strained whimpers from you.
“I hate that I love you,” as she pulled her fingers out of you, leaving you there limp.
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What happened before this?
Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody
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finntheehumaneater · 4 months
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Okay so I’ve got a prompt for you 👀 it doesn’t use any of the quotes you’ve so kindly given us, so I hope this is okay! But I’d LOVE to see the Party finding out Steve and Eddie are together. Maybe they weren’t quite ready to share yet and the kids were being nosy. Maybe they were ready to share, but wanted to keep it to themselves for a little bit longer. Whatever you want!! ❤️
hallo!! Sorry this took so long :(
also my hand literally went numb while writing this. Like it’s cold and numb. I don’t know what happened. But enjoy!!!
this is continuation of this post
| angst prompts | hurt/comfort prompts | cute scenarios |
(And if you’re reading this you legally have to send me an ask with a prompt. Because I love doing them. Thanks. Have fun with this, y’all—and you, Star, obviously, because I wrote this for you :D)
CW: some implied sexual content, some homophobic slurs used in a positive way
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Eddie fell back into bed, his face pressed into the pillow. All of his…everything hurt, and he just wanted to sleep. He heard Steve laugh, and an arm slid around his back, resting at his side. “Tired?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, turning over to face Steve, who was smiling down at him, his hair hanging limp over his forehead instead of its usual curl. Steve sighed quietly, reaching over to move some hair out of Eddie’s face. Fuck, they were both a mess. They hadn’t even really done anything, yet, since they were so rudely interrupted by Eddie’s neighbor—who was apparently also the kid Steve watched sometimes. She was a good kid, but she was fucking stubborn. And intimidating. 
“I am never going near her again,” Eddie muttered, catching Steve’s hand in kissing it, just because he knew Steve would do that quiet little laugh that he liked so much. And Steve did, looking down at Eddie with an eyebrow raised.
“What, are you scared of Max?”
“Possibly,” Eddie mused, tugging Steve down for a kiss, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Steve laughed again, his hands sliding into Eddie’s hair before he pulled away and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Do you think we should tell the other kids?”
“Honey, I think they already know.”
“Really?,” Steve whispered, moving down on the bed slightly so that he could lay his head on Eddie’s chest more comfortably, their legs tangled together in the comforter. He was only in his boxers, and Eddie was feeling too fucking warm in his clothes right now.
“You were practically trying to crawl inside of me the last time we were all together, Stevie,” Eddie pointed out, and he felt kind of bad for making Steve move so that he could sit up and take his shirt off, but Steve just sighed and laid down on the bed. His pout was obviously fake. But it was adorable.
“What are you doing?”
“S’too hot in here.”
Steve huffed, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist, his cheek pressed to Eddie’s thigh. “Need help with that?”
“What, taking my clothes off?”
“Mhm.”
That startled a soft laugh out of Eddie, and he looked down, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Sure.”
-
Honestly, Steve thought this was a fucking horrible idea. His hands were gripping at the steering wheel of Eddie’s van, his jaw clenched in a way that really hurt, but he didn’t care. He felt Eddie reach over to place a hand on his thigh, and Steve tried to give a smile, but it came out kind of weak and wobbly. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Eddie said softly, squeezing Steve’s leg. “We don’t have to tell them.”
Steve shrugged, trying his damned hardest to keep his voice steady and not let it break. “I mean—I feel like we owe it to them, right? For hiding it for so long?”
Eddie gave him a sad look, sighing and Steve tried not to move too much when he gently dragged his fingers up and down Steve’s thigh, brushing over the fabric of his jeans. “We don’t owe them anything. Especially not this.”
“I’m just tired of pretending that I hate you all the time…”
“Same,” Eddie whispered, sighing. “Just…they won’t care. You know? Dustin might be annoyed, but not because we’re…”
“Fags? Queers?” Steve offered, his hands relaxing slightly as he looked over at Eddie, who just smiled slightly and nodded, squeezing his thigh.
“Yeah.”
Mike’s house wasn’t all that far away, but to Steve it felt like forever. And Eddie didn’t seem all that bothered by telling the kids, which Steve didn’t get. What if the kids hated them? What if they never wanted to talk to him? Steve couldn’t deal with that, he needed those kids to keep him sane. Which was honestly a paradox or something, because they drove him up the fucking walls.
Once he parked the car on the side of the street next to Mike’s driveway, Eddie practically fell out of the car, looking over at Steve pointedly, waving his hand slightly.
Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You alright?”
Eddie glared at him, but Steve knew he wasn’t actually mad. “No, I am not. Thanks for asking.”
Steve breathed out a laugh, turning off the car and getting out. “Close the door all the way this time, Eds.”
“I left it open once—“
“Just do it, Jesus.” 
Eddie huffed and made a point out of closing the door harder than necessary, and Steve rolled his eyes again, shoving Eddie’s shoulder gently as he walked past. “Why do I even put up with you?”
“Because you love me,” Eddie stated, like it was fact. And maybe it was. Still, Steve froze up a bit, his cheeks pink.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Steve stared down at his shoes as Eddie knocked on the door. They were kind of faded and old, the color and soles worn away at the edges. His parents would have yelled at him if they had seen them. 
His head snapped up when the door flung open and Dustin tugged him and Eddie inside, looking panicked. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Hm?” Steve pulled his hand free of Dustin’s grip gently and smoothed it out. 
“Eddie said it was a code red! On the walkie!”
“Oh, did he?” Steve muttered, sending a pointed glare in Eddie’s direction, who just smiled and shrugged with a quiet, ‘just wanted to make sure all the kids would get here’. 
Steve sighed and he almost went to grab Eddie’s hand, but he didn’t—dropping it back to his side. Eddie looked down and then back at Dustin, reaching over to take Steve’s hand in his with a smile that was almost too-big for the situation. “Where are the children, Dusty-bun?”
“Don’t fucking call me that—“
“Language,” Steve interrupted.
“—and they’re in the basement. You knew that. That’s where we meet up when we’re at Mike’s. Why did you ask.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, and squeezed Steve’s hand a bit tighter when Steve saw Dustin looking down at it, his eyebrows raised. “Jeez, kid, watch your tone. Go alert the other kids of our arrival, my good sir, Stevie and I will be there in a minute.”
Dustin looked glad to be away from them as he ran back down the basement stairs, closing the door behind him. Steve sucked in a breath and Eddie turned to him, his expression softening. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” Steve hummed, squeezing Eddie’s hand.
“See how I asked? Checked in?” Eddie muttered, giving Steve another pointed look, and Steve giggled—like, actually giggled, which felt weird.
“I knew you were fine, though, I didn’t need to ask.”
“Hmmm, whatever,” Eddie huffed, squeezing Steve’s hand and kissing him quickly, but it was a kind of awkward one because they were both smiling. “C’mon, let’s not keep those shitheads waiting.”
“Mhm. If any of them have made bets on this, I’m killing them.”
-
The kids were all gathered on the couch, draped over each other and shoving elbows and knees away from them, Mike practically pushing Lucas off of the couch in an attempt to get him to move his leg. Eddie sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Can you guys shut the fuck up for one second?”
The kids fell silent and all looked over at him, Dustin frowning at his choice of language. Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and tugged him closer. Steve felt his cheeks fucking burn. “We have an announcement—“
“You’re together?” Max dead-panned, looking the two of them over with an unimpressed expression. “Is that it?”
Steve nodded, but Eddie sighed and glared at her, “I was going to fucking say it.”
“But you didn’t,” she retorted, narrowing his eyes at him even more, and Eddie straightened up a bit, looking away. Steve bit back a laugh, squeezing his hand slightly.
“Steve’s gay?” Mike blurts out, and Lucas elbows him.
“So?”
“So nothing,” Mike amends quickly. “I just didn’t know, Lucas.” He elbows Lucas back, and Lucas kicks at his ankle. 
Dustin drops his head into his hands, shaking it slightly. “Out of all the people on the world, you picked Eddie?”
Steve actually laughs this time, glancing over at Eddie, who just glares at Dustin. “What’s that supposed to mean, shithead?”
“You’re annoying,” Dustin says simply, looking up. “I love you, but you’re annoying.”
“Hm,” Steve says quietly, smiling slightly. And Eddie smiles back. “I feel the same way.”
Eddie grins at that, opening his mouth to say something, before Lucas cuts him off. “Mike, you owe me five dollars.”
Eddie tugged Steve back slightly, like he actually thought Steve was going to strangle Lucas, holding onto his hand a bit tighter, and Steve smiled to himself as he looked down. At least they didn’t all hate him. He knew he was being irrational earlier—they were his kids, they loved him no matter what, and he loved them no matter what, too—but he couldn’t help it. 
Still, he probably would have strangled Lucas if the rest of the party hadn’t been there.
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wolfstrong · 18 days
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My company is trying to write a script for a comercial with one of the guys from queer eye and they brought in some freelance writer chick and she was like “what if we had him say something like “honey, I got you!” And my coworker was like “yes oh my god you sound exactly like him I think you just channeled his energy” it’s like no that’s just how you think gay men talk and if we are going that route let’s take full advantage of his gayness. I’m proposing full f slur in a comercial selling houses
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hadeantaiga · 2 years
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Was looking through the gender critical tag (mostly to find transphobes to block) when I saw a young lesbian distraught that when she searched for LGBTQ history, she found books with trans people, and that she was finding it difficult to find books about queer history that didn't use "the q slur in the title".
Like yeah, honey.
Queer's the academically preferred word, so if you're looking for academic and professional books about queer history, they're gonna be called QUEER HISTORY.
The whole "queer is a slur" discourse has infected so many young queer people they're literally unable to read about their own community and history because they've been told the word we use to refer to our community "is a slur".
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ask-spider-punk-13666 · 4 months
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Identity
Word Count: ~900 [CW: internalized homophobia, homophobic slurs (self identified)]
Summary: Tommy has something to tell Gwyn, but things don't always go to plan.
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January, 1984 - Tommy's Bedroom
Tommy wipes his palms on his pant legs for the fourth time in as many minutes, gritting his teeth in frustration. Why is this so hard? Either she'll take it well, or she won't, but not knowing is worse, and he's never going to know anything if he just keeps sitting here without saying it.
"Gwyn, there's something I need to tell you," he says. He can't look at her, though, so he stares at his shoes instead. The sole is starting to come loose, but he can't afford a new pair.
"Of course, babe. You can tell me anything."
Tommy doesn't wince at the endearment, too used to Gwyn's casual affection, but it chafes at him, somewhere deep below the surface.
"I'm not who you think I am. I've been lying to you, to my Uncle, to everyone, and I'm tired. I can't keep hiding from you, Gwyn. You're my best friend," he says, hating how his voice is getting tight, or how he keeps babbling instead of getting to the fucking point.
"Tommy..." she says gently, mattress sinking when she sits down next to him. "It's okay. I already know."
...what?
Tommy’s blood runs cold. Had he been so obvious, even before he figured it out for himself? His thoughts are racing, wondering if she’d noticed how focused he’d been when they watched John Travota prance around a Ford De Luxe on movie night, or maybe she’d seen how his eyes had lingered a little too long when Harry Osborn climbed the rope in gym class. Have other people noticed? How long until he stopped knowing even a minute of peace? Until even the adults who tolerated him left him for the wolves? What about his uncle?
"What? What do you mean, 'you know?'"
"The lying, the missed practices, the bruises. You're Spider-Punk. I've known for a while."
Yeah, Tommy definitely missed something.
He gapes, for a moment, mouth opening and closing a few times without a sound before he manages to find his words—
"What? No."
—and then they just don't stop.
"I mean, yeah. We can do that too, while we're at it, but that's not— that's not what I meant. Well, I would have told you, right after this, even, but that isn’t what I was trying to say. I am Spider-Punk, but that's— it's not—"
Apparently, his confusion is letting him skip right over the panic of Gwyn somehow knowing his secret identity, but not letting him find the right words to say what he actually wants to. He just keeps babbling.
"Tommy, honey, take a breath. What's this about?"
Fuck it. Who cares whether they're the "right" words?
"I'm gay, Gwyn," he blurts, and everything goes silent, like even the shitty pipes are too scared to break the tension with their usual clanging.
"What?"
"I'm gay," he says again, and it comes out easier, even if it hurts more. "I'm queer. A fairy. A fucking faggot, if you prefer." He spits the words like a curse. It definitely feels like one.
Why me? Isn't my life hard enough!?
His eyes are burning and Gwyn is still just staring at him. She doesn't look disgusted, but maybe she’s just in shock, processing this huge bombshell.
"Say something," he rasps, "please?"
She doesn't respond, not with words, anyway. Instead, she surges forward, wrapping her arms around him and tucking her face into the crook of his neck. It takes him painfully long to reciprocate, movements halting and awkward with surprise. This has to be a good sign. Right?
They stay like that for a long moment, with only the sound of shaky breathing and the background hum of the heater to fill the silence. Eventually, though, Gwyn is the first to pull away. She doesn’t go far, just enough so they're face to face. Her eyes are just as damp as his own.
"Me too," she confesses.
"What?"
"I'm gay. More of a dyke than a fairy, actually. Men? Not really my thing."
Oh.
Tommy doesn't know how to respond to that, other than to pull her back into a hug, burying his own face in her shoulder. It's probably for the best, because he starts to bawl like a baby, choking on the overwhelming mix of emotions that crashes over him. It's almost too much to parse and he feels like he's drowning, pulled under a riptide of relief-joy-trust. 
He's mourning a bit, too. Grieving for the normal life he could have had— that they could have had. It’s one thing to admit such things to himself, but admitting it to another person— to Gwyn— makes it all the more real. 
And it hurts. Each strangled sob is soothing agony— like the gangrenous decay of fear-shame-isolation being cut from healthy flesh.  He hadn’t realized he was suffocating until he could finally breathe again.
He can’t stop crying and Gwyn's not doing much better, if the wetness of Tommy's collar or her shaking shoulders are anything to go by. She’s clutching onto him like a lifeline and Tommy? Tommy is independent. He stands on his own because he’s never had a choice, so it’s… terrifying to rely on others for support, but he’s holding onto her just as fiercely. Sharing the burden instead of stumbling under the weight of everything. It’s indescribable.
Tommy doesn't think he's ever connected with anyone the way he does with Gwyn.
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intersexbookclub · 11 months
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Intersex Book Club reviews The Fortunate Fall
For our June book pick we read *The Fortunate Fall, *a cyberpunk novel from the mid-1990s written by a trans intersex author (Raphael Carter). Intersex author Bogi Takács has argued that the book deserves being read for its intersex themes, which have gone underappreciated. We had a lovely discussion about the book and here are some notes summarizing our reactions. Spoilers ahoy!
INTERSEX THEMES
The book has two characters who self-describe as hermaphrodite in ways that are fairly minor. The intersex-ness of this book does not come from centring on explicitly intersex characters but instead through themes that speak to intersex experiences. (Please note: the h-term is generally considered a slur against intersex people. This is the language used in a mid-1990s book by an intersex author.)
A major theme of the book was coercive medical procedures and the maiming of one’s body. Characters such as the protagonist are described as having literal holes in them. The State requires invasive body modification of queer people to “suppress” their queerness and enforce conformity.
Which gets to the suppressor chips. In the end of the book the main character has her suppressor chip removed which brings back her memories of a previous sapphic relationship and who she was before she became a “camera” (ie. a journalist/influencer). We read the suppressor chips as a metaphor for how so many intersex people have their medical histories hidden from them. We also talked about how this could be read as a metaphor for people who deny their own queerness (e.g. transness, gayness, etc)
This will come up again when we read The Deep by Rivers Solomon but there’s a trend in intersex literature to portray intersex people as sea creatures. One of our hermaphrodite (their term) characters refers to themself as a mermaid and has a mental link with a humpback whale. We talked about how deep sea creatures are a great vehicle for writers to explore both the strangeness and the naturalness of being intersex. The ocean is intensely familiar but also foreign, and features animals whose sex determination schemes are far more fluid (ha) than us humans.
OUR PRIMARY REACTIONS (SPOILER HEAVY) - @ipsogender: “I was not expecting the book to end with honey I need to move in with you because my whale is about to die" - @scifimagpie “this was a darker book, started with a news report on genocide and ended with saddest breakup in gay history”
POSITIVES
OMG THAT ENDING
A uniquely devastating sapphic romance
The viscerality of jacking one’s brain into a digital set up. A lot of modern cyberpunk has paved over the physicality and the grotesqueness of body modification and this book did not shy away from it.
A book that argues for animal rights in a technological society. It got us talking about what an internet that serves other animals would be like.
Some excellent lines such as “The state allows you to hate it but only enough so as not to threaten it.” and “You can’t just show people the evil of the word, people will turn away. You need to show them hope.” which got us talking about activism and how to make political change
NEGATIVES
This book is pessimistic AF
No real denouement. Could be intentional to make the ending weigh on you more but also means less sense of what happens at the end.
The whale is never given a name! 😭
Disability as worse than death trope
Afrofuturism felt kinda weak; Africa is one country and it has surprisingly little effect on other cultures despite supposed superpower status
WHAT WE THOUGHT THE BOOK MIGHT BE TRYING TO SAY
We spent a bunch of time speculating as to authorial intent with the book. Here are some things we brainstormed:
In a totalitarian world where you’re an influencer and people literally tune into your brain, self-preservation comes at all costs including those you love.
Queer romance can be deep and tender, and societal prejudice can cause real hurt (remember: book came out in mid-1990s).
A cautionary tale to not back down from your love or your principles.
Huge leaps in technology won’t change social structure. We can invent technology to experience what other people have experienced and it alone won’t lead to increased acceptance of queers or protection of the environment/animals. (Again, remember: written in mid-1990s, a time of legit optimism about the internet.) From the book: “The Net should be the most democratic form of communication that the world has ever known…. But instead it is being used to enforce an official vision of humanity.”
@scifimagpie: a thesis of this book was "we fucking failed at saving the whales"
HOW IT HELD UP
Predicted: the enshittification of the internet
Predicted: influencer culture
Holds up: the sense of wonder that we can connect people across time and space
Holds up: the need to consider other animals in creating networked technologies
Dated: internet as a physical metaverse
Dated: fixed-location telephones
Dated: presentation of Christianity and its relationship to Russian culture
Disappointing: a future where there are still cars in cities
READ IF YOU LIKED
Idoru by William Gibson
Star Trek IV (the one with the whales)
The Matrix
Animorphs #19
Ancillary Justice
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on the off chance i see terfs and their hate group allies boast about how great of an activist they are and how they're continuing the REAL gay activism (whatever the FUCK that means lol) i think about going back in time and explaining the current terf situation to important queer activists of the past like marsha p johnson or storme or others, who legit put their lives on the line to be able to push queer people forward. and i just imagine them either laughing or wanting to bash their head in the wall. like do you really think people who were pro sex work, pro kink, people who reclaimed all kinds of slurs and used bricks and rocks to throw at cops, people who actually wanted to make a change would agree with a priviledged ass white woman who is sending death threats to minors and policing what type of lesbians can reclaim dyke?? like lol. lmao. you belong with the fascists honey, but you already know that since you always suck up to them whenever trans people are even remotely mentioned anyway.
^^^^^
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fluffansmut-old · 1 year
Text
They seem a bit... queer?
A/N So I´m begining this new year by starting a 10 chapter long series, It´s centered around the fruity four, mostly Ronance and Steddie, but you know they´re room-mates and may like platonically kiss each other on the forehead and so on. (This fact also makes their relationship constellation harder for people to figure out, which is funny.  I would like to describe the series as “what if the fruity four starred in a late 80´s sitcom?”
The plan it’s a weekly upload schedule, I´m thinking fridays. In between I will of course keep up my reader-insert fics, and the requests I get. (Send me some!!)
The short fic below is a small (the actually chapters will be longer, and more like a proper fic) teaser, and like an introduction to the series.  
Summary: Gossip travels fast back home, and new neighbours notice more than one would think. 
Content warnings: Gossip, time-typical homophobia. usage of slur for lesbian.
The series will be posted on Ao3 aswell 
Masterlist of all my work - masterlist of the series
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Have you heard?
The gossipers of Hawkins had a field day as the rumors of the four former residents spread through town like wildfire. 
“Have you seen Nancy Wheeler since graduation?” 
“Not really, why?”
”my cousin’s boyfriend saw her the other day and apparently she’s a dyke now. He apparently saw her kissing with some girl, he couldn’t really see who though.” 
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“My daughter is in the same grade as the middle wheeler kid and she said that she heard that Nancy apparently got back together with the Harrington boy, and they’re apparently serious, like they live together-serious”
“But doesn’t he date that blonde girl? Like have you seen them separately since like 85?”
                                         _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“ Maisy Ferell told me that she hear from her sister that works with Mrs. Buckley, that her daughter shares an apartment with some other kids now in Boston, and apparently one of em is that Munson boy.” 
“The murderer? Are you serious?” 
“To be fair, he never was convicted, but I get where you're coming from.”
“He doesn’t deserve fairness. She’s not dating him, do you think?” 
“Not sure, I mean I wouldn’t put it past her… she were always a disappointment to them, that child.” 
                                          _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
In Boston where indeed the quadruple was sharing a flat, the rumors weren’t as wild, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t beginning to spark. 
“Have you met the new neighbours yet? The ones that just moved in on the third floor?” 
“Yeah, I ran into the couple, they seemed really nice.” 
“Nice? Then I don’t think we´re thinking of the same neighbours, the seemed odd to me.”
“I’m talking about that couple from Indiana, the woman who just enrolled at Emersons and her boyfriend, the one who I caught checking out his own hair in the elevator mirror. The ones that had friends with them when they moved in, that girl who you could hear all through the stairwell because she never shut her mouth, and that lanky boy who were in desperate need of a haircut”
“Oh you don’t know … well honey, I believe they all live there together.”
“Wait, what are you saying?”
“Yeah you heard correctly, and that boyfriend.. I'm pretty sure I just saw him peck the long haired, lanky boy ON THE LIPS before they shut the door and he left.” 
“Are you sure that you just didn’t see wrong honey?” 
“Nah, I am not sure about them… They seem a bit queer to me.”
Truth to be told they were queer, all in their own way. Not that that gave their new neighbours any right to gossip about them.
 The young adults in the apartment two stairs up share everything from clothes and morning coffee to intimacy and trauma together, and not a single soul would ever understand all of it, even if they tried. So that people talked didn't bother them too much. 
In reality it was quite fun, watching them trying to figure out what was right. 
____________________________________________________________________
Residence 
Nancy Wheeler, 
age 19
Occupation:
Enrolled student at Emerson Collage
Relationship status:
 partner - Robin Buckley.
Steve Harrington, 
Age 20
Occupation: sales associate at the book bin.
Relationship status: 
partner- Edward Munson
Robin Buckley
Age 19
Occupation: sales associate at the book bin.
Relationship status: 
partner - Nancy Wheeler.
Edward Eddie Munson
Age 21 
Occupation: 
Struggling Musician 
Relationship status: 
Partner - Steve Harrington.
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cordycepsfem · 10 months
Text
Pageboy Readthrough, Part Three
Previously
EP goes on a date (that she does not describe fully which irritated me because it's lazy writing)
during said date she's asked "when did you know" which means "when did you start liking things traditionally done/enjoyed by boys/men but can also definitely totally be done by girls/women as well"
EP says "four" which is not a thing
this leads to a very long and trying chapter about how EP did things that again, you can do if you are a girl, or if you are actually just a child of either sex
EP tries to make friends
EP has a boyfriend; they get called "f slurs" by teenagers and EP revels in being thought of as a boy (note: she just has a short haircut)(also second note: who revels in being called a slur? Jesus)
there is a lengthy discourse about a boat explosion in 1917 Halifax which is tangentially related to things being discussed in the chapter but interested me enough to go learn more about it today
EP refers to Halifax's gay community in 1917 as "queer" and your reviewer ended the night before she put her fist through the wall of her very, very hot apartment
You can now find previous parts of this readthrough here.
Now
Chapter Four
EP and her mom move to a new home
it is nice; people do normal people things there
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Not a boy.
EP talks about playing in the bathtub with action figures; again, this is a thing that all kids did
her mom supports her imaginative play
EP has a crush on the girl in Honey I Shrunk the Kids
EP's mom is a good teacher
together they watch hockey and eat Canadian food (ketchup chips burned my tongue off last year when I visited but hey nobody's perfect)
There is a three-paragraph stint here that got me in the chest.
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So let's talk this one through. A female child didn't like wearing restrictive clothing that female children are made to wear. Tights are awful no matter if you think you're a boy or not. No one should wear them. (I am correct on this and I do not take notes.) Dresses are confining and most girls are told to not do certain things when you're in them. Your humble reviewer wore dresses almost every single day throughout her childhood so she climbed trees, rode her bicycle, went wading, performed science experiments, jumped rope, hid during hide and seek, went sledding, and played any number of other games and sports in them. Was I told to stop, to be more feminine, to be a young lady, to be more "modest"? Yes. Would it have been easier in pants? Fuck yes. But I wasn't going to stop doing the things I wanted because I was wearing dresses and tights.
"Boy as friends should have been over"? What? Is there an age where one cannot be friends with a boy? It must be older than 36, because I am younger than 36 and still friends with many boys. They are now called men, of course, but I have had friends who were boys for all of my childhood and teenage years and my Catholic mother didn't find that strange. (After all, Jesus had many friends who were boys, and many friends who were girls.)
Mothers sometimes want things for you that you don't want but they want. It is okay to let go of those things. It is okay to start to forge your own path. Wear dresses when they want, once a year or whatever. Play nice. Take it off as soon as you can. Learn to negotiate "nice pants and a sweater" into the equation as soon as you can. It doesn't mean you're a boy.
And EP's Mom - who sounds a lot like my mom on this topic - was right - being someone who is GNC or who is even a bit different (for instance, someone who might be a closeted lesbian) is going to make your life more difficult, because kids are assholes who believe strongly in pattern recognition so any outlier is going to be attacked. My huge imaginary world was built to protect me from all of the bullying I received. I was happiest alone because no one bullied me there. I still wasn't a boy. I was just a weird kid who would one day realize she was a lesbian.
EP says she has never doubted her mom's love for her
but she feels like her mom didn't know how to say "no" to things that were harmful and her mom made her conform because she didn't know what else to do
EP tells a story about trips she and her mom would take to a beach where they did things like enjoy the natural scenery and pretend they had walkie talkies
it leads to this
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This is why thirty-somethings have no business writing memoirs, and it's only half-because of the sappy dramatic writing. EP, you are still free. You can still have any kind of relationship with your mom you want. You can even make your relationship better.
EP liked snow days
she and her mom went to Tim Hortons and got hot beverages
sledding was also nice and leads to further fanciful writing
I'm getting to a point in this book where I'm honestly wondering how it's going to end. And I don't mean that in a a negative way (although there are times when I'm reading that I have to physically push on my lips because I feel like I'm wading through molasses trying to make sense of it all), but in the way that EP and I come from not dissimilar backgrounds, had not dissimilar childhoods, and - so far - have similar feelings about those things, and I need to know how it gets from Point A to Point B. We both came out as lesbians, we both have gender dysphoria. I want to know what the justification was for the massive body modification and a trans identity over therapy, or if EP's going to talk about therapy at all. I want to know how she settled on leaving her wife. I want to know if she thinks of herself as straight.
I can honestly only read one or two chapters a night because some of this hurts - it feels too close to home. I am understanding how someone like EP, like me, like a lot of weird and maybe undiagnosed girls, gets to a point where "not being a girl" is the best choice. I want to know what the tipping point is.
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greypetrel · 11 months
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14 and 21 for the pride asks 💗
Hi there Mo!
Thank you for asking! :3
14. How do you think other factors like neurodivergency or upbringing have impacted your identity?
Definitely delayed realising I was queer.
I fawned my way out of shitty times with half of my family who's not supportive and not open to the community and used "Gay" as a slur and to mock people, always criticised Pride and so on and so forth. I people-pleased and lowered my head until I just… Didn't think about the possibility because it would have meant being even more mocked and blamed with them, and I wanted to catch the least possible attention on me. (they're not evil people, at all, and I wish them all the good in the world... They're just a little too assured that their way of life is the only possible one. I had the shittiest time when I told them I was vegetarian too. And I proposed I should cook for myself if it was a bother <_< ) Anxiety didn't really help either, and when I came in contact with people in the community who were out and made me think of my own sexuality… It convinced me that oh no honey you're not bi you're just faking it for attention and to best fit in, you had crushes for guys so you're very straight. (No.) (Being demisexual also delayed the realisation very much. Very much. But again, demisexuality was discovered tragicomically late)
21. What message would you give to your younger self?
It's going to be all right, you're better off without those people, cut them out, stop answering that phone. Ask stuff and don't assume, please, you're not being delicate, you're ruining it. Fucking dress better for that cinema night, maybe it IS a date after all and not just with friends.
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degenderates · 1 year
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using slurs to describe yourself is offensive and it aint cute. if you were a bio female lesbian calling yourself a dyke as reclamation, that's a different story but you're clearly doing this for shock factor using all these diff slurs and it's awful and embarrassing. bye honey. blocked
Embarrassing for YOU, certainly not for me 🥰 faggotdykequeertrannytranssexuallesbopansyfairysissy<333333
Seriously though: queer slurs only have as much power as you give them. And I choose for them to mean joyous things!
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herdreamywasteland · 6 months
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"I can fuck a guy and still be a dyke" no you'd be a liar and a fucking joke lmao
oh honey, that’s not how it works. I’m so sorry that your self image is so fragile that you have to go after a queer kid minding their own business.
also, the word dyke originated as a homophobic slur for masculine, butch, or androgynous girls or women. It doesn’t necessarily mean lesbian. Before you come at me, learn your etymology.
and another lovely thing. The way I identify myself as queer has nothing to do with you, love. I am queer just the way I am, and you replying by calling me a “fucking joke” just proves you don’t understand the point of the post. It’s about the beauty of how all queer people are not the same.
and finally, sex without attraction is a thing. You can be attracted to women and still have sex with a man. lesbianism is defined as sexual attraction to women as a woman. …no where did I say being a dyke meant you were attracted to men. Plenty of queer people have had sex with a different gender than what they’re attracted to. It’s part of figuring out you’re queer.
if you need help, the Trevor project is a great way to find it. It celebrates all sorts of queerness. If you don’t need help, check it out anyway, maybe you’ll learn something. Have a wonderful day! <3
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