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You know, genderswap and trans fic is fine, but I'd just really like to be able to get used to fic in which the boys have female parts, and that's all. I don't usually enjoy fic that explains transgenderism, or that makes the boys girly female girls, but I would like some fic where they had female parts and the story was not about that.

YES

Dec. 14th, 2014 01:04 pm
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Beard Baubles, apparently. I want bells. Also, some for Sam's hair.

Miss you fandom, come back from holiday-ing quickly...
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It's not a must video, but I like "My butt ate the fabric. It came, it saw, it conquered". Wearing that sort of underwear is so often described as being violated by underwear, and the same experience here is about winning and consuming.




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This came up in a genderqueer group I get messages from. So, for your viewing pleasure. The site was recced as well, though less genderqueer and more cross-dressy.

ETA : There's even wallpaper like in a motel they'd pick.
NSFW )

This.

Jun. 1st, 2014 07:38 pm
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An open letter to privileged people who play devil’s advocate

"It is incredibly painful to feel that in order for you to care about my safety, I have to win this verbal contest you have constructed 'for fun'."


"It is physically and emotionally draining to be called upon to prove that these systems of power exist. For many of us, just struggling against them is enough — now you want us to break them down for you? Imagine having weights tied to your feet and a gag around your mouth, and then being asked to explain why you think you are at an unfair disadvantage. "
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Title: Nice Day to Start Again
Relationship: Dean/Sam
Rating: PG-13
word count: 100
Summary: Some things are just overwhelmingly tempting.
Warnings/Spoilers: Silly. Minor spoiler for 919. Perhaps warning for gender shaming.

Hidden to protect the unspoiled )
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This is written for [livejournal.com profile] meesasometimes's prompt, on the December Days meme. If you feel like it, you can prompt me too, here.
She prompted with "glitter". It turned into a story about not having a place. And also plenty of glitter/ Images aren't by me, linking back to where they came from.


I loved shiny things as early as maybe a year and a half old. I'd announce them happily ("shiny!"), as I do these days too, actually. I remember lying in the back seat of the car, looking for glittery passing lights through the windows, following them through the windows and all the way to the wide back window. All lights were perhaps shiny – had to find out whether my mom considered them fit to be called shiny in the yay sort of way. But lights that blinked, or were colorful, or best – both! were the jackpot.

I loved glittery candy wrappers, theoretically collected them, though I didn't so much actually save or arrange them, just tended to them with care, tried not to rip them while straightening them out. I vaguely remember my mother discouraging me from keeping them right after encouraging me to do all the other stuff. We were living with her parents, she'd left my father, perhaps there wasn't much room to keep things. My grandfather sometimes gave everyone individually wrapped chocolate cubes, sometimes with animals on the extremely shiny wrappers. The chocolate was good, but the shiny... some of the colors were even unusual, some were pink!




When I was maybe 13-14, I had a dream in which I was walking through some back alley with a group of people, people like me. It was late, 02:30-03:00 at night. It was filthy, the road was wet, puddles of rain that the filth of the road melted into a bit, coloring it dark. There were backdoor metal steps, it was an area of bars and clubs. They were backdoor places, places for people who didn't fit in. Like us .

The bars had signs, lit up and colorful, and they all reflected beautifully in the puddles of soot and filth where we walked. Freddie Mercury was there, and just a group of wonderfully unusual people. And I was part it, celebrated.

It was about six years before I found anyone who understood what I was talking about, when I dared to explain my gender.



So, for years, I loved this thing, this vibe. It was strong in Ziggy Stardust. It smelled of dark allies and people wearing glitter, and illicit identities where I could find people to belong with, perhaps. It was somewhat Rocky Horror, it was in the way Steven Tyler was sexual, that wasn't the normative way, but I couldn't explain why.

When I was 18, I discovered it was something known. I wasn’t just my imagination, not meaningful just to me. It was called Glam Rock.

Pretty much.



For years, I found a home and adventures in Rocky Horror. I wore so much glitter, on stage and off. Made myself clothes, cause there wasn't anything to buy, and the very few things available were expensive, and made for thin girls.

I dressed my guy friends in my clothes and told them they were awesome the way they were, and that if anyone said otherwise I’d kick their asses.

Don't have that sort of black and white certainty about things these days, anymore.


Nail polish was a way for me to express my guy side. Putting together shelves and stuff was a feminist woman side thing, nail polish was a guy side thing. When I was feeling exposed and vulnerable, when it was hard to make myself leave the house, I put on nail polish, as a sort of ritual shield.



I wanted colorful nail polish, but it was hard to find, to get, to allow myself to have, too. When I was 17, I took a trip to visit my dad. I'd been trying very hard to get along with my dad, for years, and would return from each visit more broken up. This time, I was trying to protect myself more than before. Promised myself I'd just get a room at some motel if I had to, not stay with him. Also, a short while before I left, I extended my trip to San Francisco, I realized I *could*, there I was "allowed" to take something like that for myself. That trip ended with not talking to my dad for about seven years. I was incredibly relieved, though for years I waited for the other shoe to drop, waited to feel horrible about it.

I traveled alone. Met people there – a darling gay couple I hung out with for most of the trip. A lovely bi guy who gave me his sweater cause I had no idea San Francisco was going to be that cold. I met my first drag queens in person. I went to a gay bar and got hit on. I got lost somewhere there, hard evening and unknown streets, and happened to get to a drugstore that had a huge huge range of nail polish colors, in prices I could afford. I bought maybe tens of them. Still have them.

Years later I got my sister to play with me, and made up names for them – Lothlorien, Monarchy, Naked on Your Chain, Filthy Sheets, Clockwork Orange perhaps came later. There was a banana popsicle colored one, a metallic forest green, several liquid glitter silvers...



Pretty much right up to the Winchesters, my ideal man, and mostly, the only men I would date, were glittery men. And in every fandom, my biggest kink was cross dressing, always. With Winchesters, I don't mind it, but it's not my thing. It's a bit weird to lose a kink like that.

Glitter is still an identity and a signifier to me, of gender, and to some degree, a-normative sexuality and mostly kinks. It's often a way to find other people like me, too.


[ETA: PSA: reminding you that LJ is annoying these days, copy replies before posting, in case LJ forgets what they were along the way]
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This enchanted beauty actually moved me to read Wuthering Heights at the time. Also, this was the main way I liked guys before the Winchesters came into my life.




When I finished the book, I was kinda lost - no idea what the appeal was, why I'd just read that, and what was going on with the mood changes and genre changes and why I was expected to be rooting for their love and just a big WHAT . I guess with time and with trying to be supportive of Twilight fans, and with loving fucked up relationship stories myself, and being kinda intrigued with masculinity in the story, perhaps I have a better understanding of that now? Slightly better? If you like it and feel like showing me the awesome, I want to see.

Anyway, at the time, this made me feel vindicated:
Read more... )

Back to the beautiful Noel and the guys getting flustered over him! )
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(This is what Tumblr sounds like when it's awesome! And may more people answer condescending interviewers like this!)
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Ohhhhhh, this is so wonderful <3
Not accurate, but so so wonderful, so wonderful.
YES! People who can talk like that, people who can think like that! Yes! Thank you! <3

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Slutwalk. Got a ride there with a bunch of feminists, spent it playing I Never, sharing personal stuff, trying to play the raunchiest feminist songs on the ukelele (first time I ever tried to play one, I think), cheesily flirting with each other, talking about the differences between the waves of feminism, and trying to find cheap, vegan, gluten-free food.

You know, like the Winchesters and Jack Kerouac.

Awesome road trip.

It was too cold and too unsafe to wear my I Love Queer Porn shirt, so I was a covered up slut this time. Hugged a lot of people. Said no to a hug I didn't want, which was really hard to do. Heard a heartfelt, touching cover of Barbie Girl, sung on a megaphone cause we had no mic. Got harassed, cause of course, and everyone got pushed around a little by the police, just to make sure we remembered who was in charge.


It's so meaningful to me that this year, with new organizers, the Slutwalks made a point of being (way more) inclusive. The organizers made a point of inviting people from a whole lot of groups to write short pieces about it, from their standpoint . so many women, so many survivors, so many people I wanted to hear from - genderqueer, crip, asexual, immigrant, fat, people of different races and ages, trans, femme, butch, people living in rural areas, prostitutes, people in BDSM, mothers, heterosexual, cisgender, white, male, gay, lesbian, pansexual, polyamorous. And not even "one of each", I think they just included whoever wanted to write or talk, as well as personally asking people to talk. It came out real awesome, and was what made me want to go.

And sure, there's more to be desired. Not everyone could participate, and that is a big deal. But it is so much better than most feminist events I've been to, which are so often only about women from the strongest social groups. I want to set this at the new standard for events.

I'm so hungry to hear about all these people's different experiences, when they're things I am ignorant about, and to hear people actually saying stuff I so desperately need heard, when it's stuff I know too well myself.

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