Shoutout to the family down the street that put up a pride flag when they're right across from the house that has 3 different confederate flags

my Punk Jackets

masterpost >:>

Okay so here's my current battle jacket that I wear all the time.

The back patch is a Front Bottoms song and the jacket is covered in things, little keys, fun worms I give away (not all the pride flags are mine some are just so I can give people theirs), pins, safety pins (esp around the collar) and spikes.

One side of the jacket is this and has my hopepunk patch which is a personal like. fave.

and the other is like this! The mischief brew one sews through the pocket fun fact (just a little though like 1 stitch)

my friend @soan-papdi made the cabin 11 patch! <3

the pockets on this jacket are big enough to put a magazine in and it's a great jacket.

Next is my flannel which I made summer of 2021, two of the patches have been replaces but the rest definitely show their age. It doesn't have a lot on it because when I was hospitalized I took all the sharps off all my jackets and I haven't gotten around to putting them back on that jacket yet. It definitely is more political than my more music/art-oriented jacket and both have benefits

The "Share art share joy" patch (which used to be "snitch on your boss" but that would fold and looked like "itch your ass" moral of the story, look at how things will fold lol) is a pocket!

The back patch is the first patch I ever made! The sleeves are spiked which is fun but flannel definely doesn't hold spikes well.

Next is my leather jacket which was pleather so fell apart so I painted in all the holes and did a Kimya Dawson quote on the back. It needs some touch-ups on the quote but it's really sweet to me because it did it with friends.

And finally, my platypus' jacket.

I sewed the whole thing myself from a jean leg and the back patch is going to be "love yourself a latke" because his name is Latke!

Right now he has a rainbow heart, some black eyed susans, and a "Bee kind" patch!

If anyone ever wants battle jacket tips I'd love to give advice. I might make another fashion post sometime with all my written on shirts or my jorts I embroidered and painted on. Maybe I'll post my kandi someday. for now; Here's my jackets! I worked hard on them.

Pride, Paint and Rainbow Pins!

@thunder-pride fic for Virgil’s day! (a little late but technically still on today’s theme!)

Pride! Fluff! Virgil being artistic!! Demisexuality and gayness!!!

Please say hi, I’m new here!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47711119 (I’m AstraNite on AO3 too if you want to read it there!)

Now without further ado-

----------

Virgil wondered whether there was such a thing as too many pride pins.

He fumbled the backing of another and creatively swore as he poked the sharp pin into his thumb. The things he did for art.

He’d only taken the numerous pins off of his denim jacket to protect them from getting covered in paint but maybe he should’ve chanced it with the stray art supplies. Last week’s tonne of concrete dropped on him in the exosuit had hurt less. Virgil frowned at the bead of blood that welled up and sucked it away revealing the tiny pinprick wound. His medic knowledge told him he’d live. He pouted, probably.

The last pin went on one-handedly, with not inconsiderable difficulty. Or Virgil was being dramatic about it, could be either. Gords wasn’t the only one in the family with that skill.

Tubes of fabric paints were scattered across his desk, like a particularly colourful minefield. He replaced them in their packet, neatly lined up by gradient. The brushes were already washed and drying by the sink. Virgil never considered a project truly finished until he’d put his tools away.

With the pins reattached to the front panels of his jacket, he flipped it over to show the newly painted back piece. What had once been plain blue denim was now covered shoulder to shoulder in art.

Thunderbird Two soared upwards in all her painted glory, the final details just dried. She was steadfast determination from nose to wingtips, green and majestic.

However it was the background of rainbow sky Virgil was most proud of. Red to orange to yellow, green, blue, purple, blending and swirling together. Fluffy white clouds, then a sprinkling of stars finished it off. The colours were nearly pastel in hue but somehow fiercer, forming a kaleidoscopic sunset.

A rainbow, all joy and hope and Pride.

Virgil swung his jacket over his shoulders, then stood in front of his mirror to admire his handy work. See Scott, he didn’t wear flannel all of the time, just most, because hey it was comfy.

After some twisting around to see what the new art looked like on, Virgil stood there grinning because it was exactly as amazing as he’d hoped.

He fussed with a few pins that weren’t sitting right to his artist’s eye, then turned away from the mirror to look down at himself.

Coloured enamel and shiny metal caught the light, rounded button badges nestled between.

A rainbow gay flag and demisexual flag pin sat pride, get it— pride, of place near the lapel.

Over his heart lay his first badge, an artist’s palettle swirled with ‘love is love,’ which he’d found in a gutter with a broken pin when he’d been sixteen and lost. His teenage self had never imagined how far he would come.

The green ‘he/him’ pronouns pin was a few years old, worn in solidarity with the red one Alan had gotten when he’d first come out as trans. A MLM gay flag in its green and blue was next to it. The tiny astronaut waving a demisexual flag came from John’s packet of space themed aro and ace pins. A rainbow frog had been gifted to him by Gordon who had its panromantic counterpart.

The ‘queer engineers’ badge Virgil had designed himself, on request from Brains. A green carnation turned up one day after he’d been admiring Kayo’s violet pin. The rainbow Thunderbird Two pin was his newest addition, as this year everyone had convinced Scott that International Rescue pride merchandise was a priority. Scott had been first in line for what they nicknamed the Thunder-Bi One badge, sporting it on his flight jacket along with his Aro-plane pin.

A progress pride flag shone for its inclusivity.

Wrapped in trans flag colours and rainbows, a circular badge read, ‘You’re safe with me.’

Virgil had amassed quite a collection of pride pins over the years, so many cool designs by amazing artists in the community.

They were more than the pieces of metal and plastic they were made from. They were a way of showing who he was and what he believed in. A celebration. A remembrance of their history. A part of their community.

They represented Pride.

So, no. There wasn’t a such thing as too many pride pins.

After all, what else would go with his rainbow bootlaces?

Latam fan here, I saw Louis on both tours and the difference was... Shocking. There aren't any anti lgbt laws in my country and it's very common for people to bring pride flags for shows. For Louis' first tour, the whole arena waved their rainbows during OTB, and I think it was the most emotional moment of the night for everyone. Now, it was a stadium show and I was only able to see one flag in the pit and nothing else. It felt like the energy was different both from Louis and the fandom. I don't know how's the situation in other countries but I remember seeing videos of the crowds during otb and there were so many rainbows, now that he took it from the setlist fans haven't found a replacement song to recreate that moment but it's not like he cares about it because even when he sang otb he would close his eyes so he wouldn't see the crowd so... This happened because it's what he wanted, it's not because of any laws or societies. If he wanted to, he would have kept the song and acknowledged the flags (which he never did) He should be thankful he's not viral like Harry or other artists because if people started talking about it everyone would think he's homophobic AND they would be right because he's kinda making lgbt people feel like they're not welcome on his shows :/

Hi, anon!

It's sad that he's taken a fan favourite song off the setlist, but this is fift tour and he wants to appear indie. I also think it's a difference between stadiums and arenas. It's much easier to organise fan projects and coordinate fan efforts at an arena. The other legs of tour have had plenty of pride flags, rainbow lights and fan projects.

There is no way he would ever acknowledge the pride flags or ever touch a pride flag on stage. He's closeted. Very much so. So it's not "if he wanted to", because he really, really wants to, it's "if he were allowed to" or "if he could afford to, without having to stunt hard to make up for it". Everyone, who doesn’t know him and only read the papers already believes he's homophobic, and his image very much is. I don't think lgbtq+ people feel unwelcomed at his shows, if they know he's closeted. He says again and again that he loves ALL his fans. He just can't show the support he wants to and he can't acknowledge the support even though he wants to. It sucks because Louis isn't happy and fans aren't happy. It's been like this for years though. We as fans wish for more and he can't deliver.

AHHHHH OKAY WHERE DO I START

spoilers for TOH/Thanks to Them incoming (plus a good helping of rambling)

I think Camila might be my favorite character now. Seeing the flashbacks of her always being so supportive of Luz’s antics and standing up for her was so heartwarming; She even has the skin of the garter snake framed on her night stand!! I’m so curious to see what she thinks of the Demon Realm.

And speaking of that snake, I noticed it looks a hell of a lot like Belos’ inhuman form? At least, in how it's colored? Two shades of green in bands, with red-brown spots all over it. Idk if that parallel means anything (if intentional at all) but I thought it was interesting

So Evalyn is very plainly a Clawthorn ancestor, right? It does sound like Edalyn (and the cutout looked like her), but Eda isn’t THAT old (and she went by a different name anyway, if I remember correctly?)

AND flapjack also got called Evalyn before getting, well… yeah

Makes me question Dell’s palisman also being a cardinal… There’s no way THAT’s Caleb, right?

But does that make Caleb one of Eda’s ancestors, too? Or did Evalyn remarry??? ARE HUNTER AND EDA RELATIVES???

Did Evalyn store the titan’s blood in the cemetery? Or was that one of the Whittabanes? Same goes for the scroll (“Ruven?”)

Poor hunter, too… He already has had it so rough, and then Philip possesses him? And now he has even more scars… Give the boy a break!

Plus Luz revealed he was a grimwalker while he was out! I know it was definitely a Freudian slip, but still; He doesn’t know.

I can’t believe we got NOTHING about the current state of the Demon Realm… I expected a quick ending scene or something at the least.

Outside of the dramatic stuff, lots of small details to love;

Masha’s enby-flag nails give me life! I love that they're replacing Jacob at the museum

Camila’s nerd closet full of Cosmic Crusader stuff is so fun. And her rainbow heart patch/sticker too!

“HI! I’M BI!” was 1000% just to rub it in Disney’s face (as they should).

Willow's scrapbook!!! Ahhh!!! I didn't pause to look at all the pictures but I definitely will be going back to do so!!!

holy shit the giraffe

i think that’s all I got for now

Good afternoon my darlings~! Today i will post a little bit more about Oliver’s relationship with Élos as i promised on my last post!

So, basically, all that Oliver knows is that:

Élos created Oliver with the “essence of life”. And before y’all ask, it’s not your “usual” essence of life that you would see on other types of media, according by Élos, this “essence of life” was made with these ingredients: Fairy dust; “rainbow tears” (Oliver is still trying to decipher what exactly would be “rainbow tears”); a “heart” of a bloody moon (not our moon, but rather a moon from another planet); a single tooth of a first born; golden feather from a wing of an archangel; Lillies of the valley; forget-me-nots; shards of an hour glass and some grass.

Oliver knows that Élos erased his memories from his childhood where he saw Élos much more than he does now because Élos wrote him this when Oliver questioned them how did they raised him: Élos -“on the 5° spring i simply couldn’t let you have any memory of me nor my face anymore… i would then take care of you from afar and have Morgel take care of you occasionally…”-. (Morgel is Élos pet crow that sometimes visits Oliver and brings him anything he needs: money; clothes; wood for the fireplace and the list goes on. And oh, Morgel can also transform into a human.)

Élos can’t see Oliver or be seen by him anymore because of a “barrier”. (Although Oliver believes they simply just don’t want to take care of him themselves anymore and that the barrier is just an excuse. But Oliver still loves them, even if he knows it’s just a lie)

Morgel and Élos share the same heart (Élos rescued Morgel from a hunter, and, to not let him die, Élos ripped off their own heart and sliced into two to share and replaced Morgel’s old sick heart)

Élos soul is inside Oliver’s amulet.

Élos is completely and truly neutral about Oliver’s decisions and life choices, to them, Oliver should be able to be free to do anything, even if it’s questionable. Morgel on the other hand, always tries to convince Oliver to basically be themselves, minus his questionable actions and motivations, especially towards the clones.

Now if i were to describe Élos, they would have the personality of Granmamare from Ponyo; Chlomaki from Wadanohara and Timekeeper from cookie run.

As for Morgel, he would have a personality like Sebastian from black butler and the curious from creeped out.

Everytime that Oliver is sleeping, Élos visits him, caresses his face, kisses his cheeks and whispers good night into his ear. And when he wakes up, all he sees are what he believes to be Élos arms and hands, resting on the door frame of his room, until it slowly creeps out of his sight…

Since Oliver didn’t know how to exactly call Élos since they use they/them pronouns and are androgynous, Oliver created a word for it: “paimã”. Élos is Oliver’s “paimã” :)

(Which is a combination of “pai”=“father” and “mãe”=“mother”)

Morgel doesn’t trusts Phantasmo and he always keep warning Oliver about him:

Morgel: “Oliver… what do you even see in him? He’s a floating red flag!”

Oliver: “He’s the perfect candidate to protect me! :D”

Morgel: “*sighs* you have yet still a lot to learn boy…”

And he (Morgel) swore he would somehow make Phantasmo die again if he DARED to break Oliver’s heart.

Morgel is Oliver’s “step-father”, at least that’s how he (Oliver) considers him (Morgel).

And that’s all i am going to show you all for now~♪ byeee~!

right so, the expected post concert blues have descended upon me and a few POV while I still remember stuff:

Pros-

Little freak (my fav. Also his reaction to people singing it) I'm thankful to the harry house gods that it was added

WMYB- The crowd was crazy. Literarily insane. He might have as well not sung it. We knew the words, the beats, the backup vocals, the melody, his little 'choo choo' hand gesture when he repeats 'you light up my world like nobody else'. The entire arena was wild. And I love that this still gets a bigger reaction to WS

The band wearing all read with a canadian flag badge made my heart squeeze. Such a nice touch for Canada.

WS is like overplayed to death by this point, but there were some cool watermelon color projections on the crown going on.

No gender reveal/breakup/coming out signs. They've become so disingenuous after the 4th show that I was really happy not to have any...he also didn't have as many fan interaction as he did in Europe...so maybe the signs existed and he just didn't address them.

Rainbow project was beautiful love. People responsible pulled it off amazingly. My pictures were crap because the colors were subdued whereas they were so vibrant in the moment and it felt surreal to be surrounded by a rainbow belt.

—

Not necessarily cons, just 'but why?':

No LU-especially because there was a fan project to light up the canadian flag. They made little ribbons instead of just colored paper so you know they went that extra step (and paid extra money), only for it not to make the cut. Also how can you cut LU. It's not my fav tbh, but it's one of those that you don't just leave out.

I loved the idea of the horns, but I feel like they needed to rehearse them more with his vocals. For some songs they were interfering with him starting to sing. Does that make sense? They were great for the music breaks (sushi), but when he'd pick up the verse again you'd still hear them loud and it's just a tiny irky thing. I need that sudden dramatic stop. BUT, i still love the inclusion of them. Just hope they synchronize them better for future shows. God I'm being so nitpicky.

Although I was sitting at the very back I still enjoyed every bit of it. I wish I was going tomorrow too, but money and inflation said no.

Leave America was super loud. I’m glad that it carried over across the pond and that stupid “project” some people wanted to replace it with never worked.

But I mean we are Canada and mostly hate America and we only got two shows. It still makes me laugh that they call this the Canadian residency when it’s only two shows.

one last thing to add though, I have no idea how he's gonna keep this up for all these residencies. That was A LOT of stage to cover. Running back and forth and round and round. I soooo appreciate him giving every side equal opportunity too see the face/ass but goddamn...hope these muscles are gonna be useful.

That is all!

Adding your pics of those beautiful lights:

Thank you!!!!! This was a fantastic concert review!!!!

Now, I learned what Leave America means to Canadians, and the horns need a bit of smoothing out and yes it sucks that Lights Up didn’t end up on the set list, it’s such a lovely song for the LGBTQ+ and allies crowd.

And good to know (also for those who worry) that a seat in the back still allows you to fully enjoy the show! 💜

calmly reassuring the other it’s okay when they drop a glass, gently checking their hands for any injury. for Reggie/Willie (or Reggie&Willie) please and thank you

When things got too bad at home, Reggie usually made the decision to head to Julie's place. She understood his need to not be anywhere near his parents without asking questions. Just ushers him in and cleans him up if it was a particularly bad night, and lets him finish off her ice cream. Julie's a good friend like that.

Of course, once Ray answered the door instead, and he took one look at Reggie and swore. He had social workers on the phone within the hour, and by the end of the week, was Reggie's legal guardian. It took him almost no time to come to think of this house as home, of the Molina's as family.

Thus Ray Molina's home for sad musician boys became a thing.

Luke spent more time out in the studio than anywhere else, though Ray always told him there was a place for him inside the house. But Luke didn't want to get too comfortable, still unused to trusting adults after his own parents had thoroughly disappointed him due to their lack of support.

Alex then started spending Sunday mornings there, knowing that even though Julie's family was pretty damn Catholic, they were also supportive. Their church didn't preach hellfire and damnation, in fact they openly flew a rainbow flag, and Alex soon found himself the favourite of all the aunties whenever he accompanied the Molina's to a service.

One Sunday morning, Reggie was yawning as he entered the kitchen. He wasn't one for church, given his Jewish heritage and broken faith, so Ray always allowed him to sleep in instead of coming. Reggie, grateful for his understanding, always made them a delicious brunch for when they came home. Ray had told him time and time again that he didn't need to do that, but Reggie confessed he loved to cook, so it was no trouble.

What he wasn't expecting when he entered the kitchen was to find Willie sitting on the island, kicking his heels against the cabinets as he drained a glass.

Willie and Alex were stuck in a bit of a will-they-won't-they phase right now, but the skateboarder always seemed to be around, so Reggie was kind of hoping that they would get over themselves and get together soon.

"Morning!" Reggie chirped as he came into view. Willie jumped, his grip on the glass loosening, causing it to fall and shatter.

The sound utterly froze Reggie, vivid flashbacks of all out fights flashing before his eyes, his parents vitriol spewing forth, and he could feel his pulse racing, his lungs heaving. He tried desperately to ground himself, finding things he could see, smell, touch, and taste. Finally he was able to come down, and glanced at where Willie was frantically trying to clean the glass up and apologizing profusely.

"Ooh crap, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to, it's just that you startled me. Not that it's your fault! I shouldn't have been sitting on the counters I know, Caleb tells me all the time, and god he's gonna be so mad. Always breaking stuff, but I can replace it!" Willie rambled.

Despite the panic still slowly thrumming through Reggie's veins, the sank down, placing a hand on Willie's shoulder, causing the word vomit to stop. "Hey Wils, it's okay. It's just a glass. Ray buys cheap ones because we're always here and are pretty clumsy. Plus all of Carlos' friends are none to gentle. He won't be mad, trust me."

"You promise?" Willie asked, his lower lip trembling, eyes watery. "But what about Caleb?"

"We don't have to tell Caleb shit. Ray isn't that kind of dad. He'd be more concerned that you're okay. Now let me see your hands," Reggie said, keeping his voice soft and soothing. He held Willie's hands up, inspecting them for minor nicks and cuts, but thankfully found none. "Okay, all good. I'm gonna get the broom and clean this up."

"But I made the mess!" Willie protested.

"It's okay Willie, I got you," Reggie said with a wink, making quick work of the broken glass, placing it in an empty cereal box so as to not cut up the bag in the garbage. He dusted off his hands, and turned to find Willie still shaken. "You wanna tell me about it while we make brunch?"

Willie held himself tightly, hands disappearing into the sleeves of his sweater. "Not yet. But I can make eggs?"

"Sounds good to me. We like them scrambled, but tia only wants the whites, she's on a health kick lately. Just give Carlos her yolks, he has a game this afternoon and could use the extra calories," Reggie said, handing over the carton as he started on the bacon.

They worked quietly side by side for awhile, Reggie occasionally humming, finally feeling like himself once more. Sure, he still had his triggers, but the grounding that Dr. Butler had taught her helped a lot, as did knowing that nothing bad could happen to him here. Ray would never hurt him. He was safe with that knowledge.

"He doesn't hit me," Willie finally whispered as they finished cooking, Reggie getting a five minute ETA from Julie. "He's just...not nice. Like ever. Or he pretends to be, but only if he wants something."

"No one in the system who's checking up?"

Willie shuddered at that, shaking his head violently. "I can't go back into the foster system again, I just can't. I'm almost 18, I can handle these last few months."

Reggie rubbed over Willie's back gently, then pulled the boy into a fierce hug when he noticed the tear tracks streaming down his face, shushing him as he sobbed.

This was how Ray found them, collapsed on the floor, embracing as Willie still shook with tears. He looked at Reggie, questioning. "We got another one?"

"Think so," Reggie replied.

Ray sighed, wondering how sick the social workers were of hearing from him at this point. But he shucked off his tie and jacket, going off to dial the familiar number.

"One more for Ray Molina's home for sad musician boys?" the social worker asked in a wry tone.

"I actually don't know if he plays," Ray replied.

"I do," Willie said from the doorway, still holding himself tight. "Guitar mostly. But Alex is teaching me drums."

"So that's a yes," came the social worker's voice on the other end, having heard the whole exchange. "Alright Ray, I'll be by tomorrow. You know the drill."

"I do, thanks Abby." Ray then turned to Willie, giving him a gentle, sympathetic smile. "How about we sit, talk about it?" he said, gesturing to the overstuffed couch he kept in his office, and would totally deny that it's sole purpose was for him to nap on.

"C-can Reggie be here for this?" Willie asked.

"Not Alex?"

Willie shook his head. "I want to tell him in private. But Reggie's been through this, I'd like him to be here."

Ray nodded, and called out to the boy that he had come to think of as a son. Reggie bounced over, all open concern and warmth. "What's up papi?"

Ray's heart armed whenever Reggie called him that, and he just had to bring him in to ruffle his hair. "Willie wants you to be here for this part, okay mijo?"

Reggie shoved Ray away playfully, then let his face become serious as he sat on the couch, offering Willie his hand. "Anytime bro. I'm here."

Willie gave a tentative grin, took Reggie's hand, a deep breath, and began to speak.

It's 2026 and Kamala Harris has taken over for Joe Biden who won a second term but was mentally incapable of carrying on as POTUS. The Border Patrol has been abolished. Illegals now have full voting rights.

Your 5-yr old son in kindergarten wears dresses and make-up to school every day and says he doesn't believe in "magic sky wizards" anymore and he thinks he's in love with his openly gay 40-year old male teacher, countering your objections with "Love doesn't have an age." Which is the lesson the teacher taught the class the week previous.

Your electric car (which cost more than your home) isn't starting today because your last social media post - a Bible quote, was deemed offensive and hate speech. You receive a text informing you the car will be inoperable for a 30-day period and that your local law enforcement has been notified that you are a persistent trouble maker who continually posts hateful political and religious texts. You should be considered a dangerous agitator and investigated.

Your church pastor informs you at Sunday service that if the church is to continue operating it must adopt some new policies from the state that promote inclusion and teach that Jesus and the first Christians were in fact, the first Marxists while downplaying Jesus' ability to perform miracles and any claim that he was divine. The Christian flag that flew beside the U.S. flag out front has been replaced by the rainbow flag.

At the super market you received vouchers for the meat, bread and other items which were not in stock. You gave the store’s app permission to send you an alert when those items become available. It’s been a week and you’re still waiting.

Welcome to the United States of the future. Courtesy of the Democratic Party.

Non-mlm people please read/nf

okay but serious rant here, why do people hate the mlm flag so much? like. i tried to buy a pride flag the other day and there was everything BUT the mlm flag, now this would be more acceptable if the lesbian flag also wasn't there but it WAS. why is it that gay men like myself are still being classified under the flag that is now used for everyone? whats the problem with us being allowed to have a word and a flag for our identity like everyone else??

this isnt a one time thing aswell, whever i see pride posts its always the rainbow flag for mlm people, now im fine with gay being non-exclusive anymore, i think thats really cool! but that means that we needed a new name and flag, so we did, and now the people who so happily call themselves gay and were adamant on it being an umbrella term just dont care enough to give gay men a replacement?

here are some actual examples:

in picrews the mlm flag isnt put with the other main flags like lesbian or non-binary

in the sims they have the lesbian and sunset lesbian flags but not mlm

when trying to buy flags or pride products they dont offer the mlm flag

in any other game with pride products, i now expect disappointment

for the love of the gods if yall care about the queer community, stop trying to take away from mlm, the problem here isnt non-binary people identifying as mlm or using the flag, its that to so many people we dont even HAVE a flag

homophobia within the queer community is a thing, and this is an example of it

What happened to spinch after all these years.

Spinch "Me? Oh! Excuse me, I wasn't expecting to be noticed. Where do I start?... Well, after Cini passed, I served his successor, Lich, for about 150 years until he fell at the battle for Hobo 13. Then I served Lich's successor, Miyuki, for about 75 years. A decade of which I spent training my replacement, Rarl Kove. He was a dutiful young drone; I hope he's still enjoying the position.

When I retired from the tallest's advisor position I moved into a civilian apartment with my mechanic friend, Tulez. He retired from the maintenance guild shortly after I retired. We spent our last decade before our PAK's expiration clock triggered building toy models of flag ships and battle cruisers together. We went to a lot of orbital drag races on Conventia too. I sold my old racing cruiser to the pilot's academy. My eyesight was too far gone and I didn't have the threshold for hyperspeed joyrides anymore. I'm sure some lucky cadet had a blast upgrading and racing my ship. Retirement was nice; I was a lucky drone for actually getting to enjoy it. I did miss Cini and working on the Viral by the end. Not sure where Tulez is now. I hope we cross paths again eventually.

It's hard to believe I've been deceased for over 4 centuries now. Cini and I found each other almost immediately. We finally have the freedom to be a romantic couple. In retrospect, it's absurd we could never express our feelings for each other openly when we were alive, but society runs how it runs, I guess. Hopefully future generations will be more open and expressive than ours.

We keep pretty busy. He has a huge social circle. I'm his plus one at the Tallests' long table. It gets a little boring there. Tallests can be so snobby; just completely stuck up their own spooch-chute. *giggles* I'm allowed to say that now that I'm dead and status is meaningless; it feels so good! Cini hasn't been bound to his seat for awhile now. We leave to explore the cosmos often, thank Glord.

We've met so many famous and legendary Irkens; tallests, high generals--oohh! We met THE general Glord! You... probably have no idea who that is, never mind. Um, we've met so many frylords and poets, inventors, philosophers, even oracles. Young souls tend to gravitate towards Cini for some reason. We've stumbled upon dozens of late tallests who died unexpectedly or without a proper send off. We usually lead them back to the long table; they can find closure there. We've met a lot of extraordinary spirits from other planets too, humans included. Sometimes I feel like a tiny speck in comparison to them all. It's such a big multiverse.

All I did my entire adult Irken life was crunch numbers for the empire...an empire that didn't value me at all... I knew deep down when I was alive, but it made me too sad to admit it or even think about it. I never had the nerve to question my reality too deeply or speak out, ever... I'm ashamed of that now.

*coughs, embarrassed* Um, let's see? Recently, Cini and I met late tallest Dava. She's as lovely and larger-than-life as the history texts described her; it was so exciting to meet her. Dava travels the cosmos with an ancient Warrior tallest,* Aria. I never even heard of her. She told us so much about early Irk; things we never could have imagined. They invited us on a quest across the multiverse to escort three lost souls to a VERY far-off realm... Val-Hal-La? If I'm pronouncing it right.

The *sprites had died young, really early into their reigns. One of them, late Red, he's actually the most recently deceased tallest. They hope to receive the training and experience in Val-Hal-La necessary to reach the warrior status they never reached when they were alive. I'm sure they'll thrive there with enough effort.

It was a wild trip. Dava and Aria had to escort the sprites across the rainbow bridge and through the gates. Cini and I didn't die a warrior's death so we had to part with them at the bridge. I was pretty tired by that point, so I didn't mind. Cini was disappointed though. He wanted to see the view of the cosmos from the center of the bridge. It was a pretty bridge, to be fair.

We got a little lost on the way back. I accidentally joined the fabled lost harem of tallest Arugula. I thought it was a buffet, I swear. It's a long, kind of embarrassing story. Cini wasn't pleased at first. Things got awkward, but I made a lot of *pixyfriends and we had a good time.

Right now, Cini is off on his own in search of the spirit of his coddle drone, which is probably good for him. He didn't have a happy smeethood, from what little he's told me about it.

As much as I love Cini, I'm glad we're drifting apart for a while. I needed the alone time to reflect on my own past; try to process my own regrets. I wish I had believed in myself more when I was alive; taken more chances, spoke up for myself or my fellow drone, even once. I wish I had stayed in the pilot's academy, chased my dream of being a battle pilot or even a communication officer. Maybe I was destined to be just a beaurocrat. It really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but I still wonder what life would have been like had I allowed myself to experienced more. It's probably silly of me to think about, but I really, REALLY wish I could find... I don't know? A higher purpose or something; some way for ME to shine for once. Maybe if I do, I can be a better being when it's finally my turn to re-enter the living reality.

Until I do, my new hobby is racing starlight. I never win, but I'm getting faster.

(Oh God, long answer is long. So much lore being thrown around here; I apologize. Appreciate the ask; I miss her ^^. Wasn't sure how much of her back story you're familiar with so I just started from Cini's death until the present)

*Aria is an oc that belongs to @a-wanderin-whirlybird. The Valhalla bit is a reference to an old rp. Why can't Irkens go to Asgard? ^^

*Sprite; outdated Irken slang for young male drones. (Drone is a gender neutral term for Irkens)

*Pixy, outdated Irken slang for female drones.

The unravelers belong to @sketchydesertghost . They sometimes get lost and lose focus, but Death seems to think Spinch can help with that ^^

Entry 05: November 13, 2022

Why the heck not? The flags are listed by order by the way.

Progress Pride

The two versions of the progress flag had been subject to scrutiny due to people thinking that these designs look cluttered. Frankly, I agree, BUT I began to prefer them over the plain rainbow flag due to the type of infighting I have seen in the community.

I've seen so many transphobes and anti-intersex rhetoric even amongst other LGBT+, so I think the progress flags communicate my stance better.

Agender, Neutrois, Abinary, Nonbinary, Genderqueer, Xenogender (specifically Monstergender & Eldrigender), Agirl

I primarily refer to myself as agender/genderless due to this being the most accurate simplified sum of my gender identity; however, beyond the lack, how my genderlessness feels specifically is more complex.

The neutrois identity pretty much describes how I feel neutral towards my lack of gender. Neutrality and nonexistence pretty much blur to me. Being an abinary nonbinary emphasizes how my gender identity isn't strictly male or female and how it isn't within the spectrum between male and female at all. Genderqueer appears to be a much older term that's very similar to nonbinary, but I understand why not everyone may desire to use it, because of having a slur in its name. I personally love reclaiming slurs, so this descriptor is something I fully identify with.

I also consider myself as xenogender and xenic-aligned. In its most metaphorical sense, I experience my genderless identity in a way that makes me feel like my human body is only a vessel or form that's like clothing rather than something innately me. Gender envy manifests as wanting the ability to shapeshift. Gender euphoria comes when I represent myself as a monster. It's everchanging in shape and desired expression, but the sense of gender is continuously absent still. I don't think people will understand what bodily forms I actually want access to and how I view my living body. Basically, the absence of my gender is replaced by a sense of inhumanity (monstergender), and I can never really know why so and maybe fully understanding it is impossible and headache inducing (eldrigender) seeing as how I can relate so many words to a simple sense of nothing.

For now, I have the body of a woman. I don't hate this body. It just feels like one of many forms. I like expressing femininity but still feel heavily disconnected to womanhood but indifferent to it most of the time. Having a perceived manhood makes me feel heavily dysphoric. I suppose this makes me an agirl.

That said, just because I'm an agirl doesn't mean I will tolerate being maliciously misgendered. My indifference comes from disconnect, a laziness to explain my identity in most circumstances, knowing that not everyone I meet knows who I am, and seeing words as gender expression rather than actually gendered depending on the context of use. I am feminine and not a woman. Transphobes better not play dumb, because context can be observed, and I will know if you impose me as the latter rather than as the former.

Femininity and womanhood are not the same. Femboys/Rosboys are still men even when they are feminine. My femininity doesn't stop me from being agender.

Aspec Bisexual/Biflux (Demiromantic Graysexual)

I think the funniest part about my sexual and romantic orientation is that I actually debated with myself, going back and forth with identifying as bisexual and aromantic asexual. It turns out that both are technically correct terms as I'm in the aroace spectrum. 99% of the time, I am aroace, but slightly more so on the aro part. I don't really recall feeling romantic attraction towards someone other than my current boyfriend. He's my first genuine crush and I was 18 by that time. I never felt the same for anyone before or after and I'm 20 now. He's also the only person other than my mother that I feel immense emotional attachment to. As for sexual attraction, I have very rare but insignificantly weak ones where I don't recall the specifics. I guess that makes me demiromantic graysexual. The bisexual/biflux end is that in the very rare occasion that I do feel sexual attraction, my preferences tend to fluctuate.

Ambiamorous

I can feel happy in both monogamous and polyamorous arrangements. Although, I may appear functionally monogamous to some due to my very rare interest in others. I do have to say that I feel a lot more comfortable with dating a polyamorous person. I just saw too many people sucking at monogamy that I'd rather my partner tell me they date multiple people than lie to me about being "the only one" and then cheat on me.

actually fuck it i need to list my old coworkers because it’s insane there were so insane ones

coworker who called out almost every monday from hangovers or went home early while still drunk from the night before bc she was going clubbing during the height of the pandemic for her entire weekends. She actually started her first week during the height of infections by taking off her mask so she could use her phone while telling me about the huge halloween parties she’d done the night before even tho a few of her friends had been exposed to covid. Talked a lot about massaging her lymph node so she could be healthy and begged people not to get vaccinated when our work offered us the vax early for frontline work. Repeatedly told people she had gotten heart conditions from the J&J shot but only after she had just chugged large coffees. wouldn’t wear gloves while touching carcinogens and later we found out she had done all her tests wrong for a solid year too

coworker who had failed out of gen chem 2 times and was failing it a third time when she got hired despite the 4 YEAR SCIENCE DEGREE REQUIREMENT. She poured acid down the sinks and had no idea how a ton of lab stuff worked but everyone said she was nice enough that I shouldn’t be so hard on someone who was still learning. I prev got scrutinized for my degree not being a real science before there. She also liked to come up w rumors about coworkers like that they failed their drug test or were alcoholics and would ask people to take Mormon trivia quizzes w her so they could join her faith. The first time we talked I asked her a generic question about whether she lived w family or pets and she immediately told me graphically about how she killed two turtles by starvation and stopped going to work and school a few months ago bc she didn’t feel like it and not to be shocked, I shouldn’t discriminate about her mental health. She called out a lot, took hours for lunch, and regularly came in an hour late and left hours early while whining that I didn’t stop her from going home so now she would be broke. 

Coworker who immediately told me I was doing stuff wrong the first day she started despite me being there 2 yrs and her being there 1 hour. Routinely tried to quiz people on element names, science, and math to prove she was the smartest person in the room. Called me homophobic for going to pride bc despite the rainbow and trans flags on my locker she couldn’t tell I was gay, then made a joke about me being a top. Took three two-week vacations and then a two week sick leave so she barely existed, then did zero work when she was there but every time I did the actual work of emailing people or writing new lab stuff, she would get mad and rewrite it and personally message our manager asking if I was actually right bc she didn’t think i was right. Got to the point where I was getting migraines every monday and panic attacks on sundays bc she was so goddamn mean to me every week while thinking we were friends bc friends can roast each other. She would talk over me at every meeting and my stutter got so bad I would lose the ability to talk or start forgetting basic words (which she loved bc then she sounded smarter than me). 

the manager who made me publically out myself on department wide meeting awkwardly bc I asked for people to stop making homophobic and transphobic jokes about me. He gave almost every person weeks off or let them get away w leaving early and doing no work bc he said I would handle it and ig is doing the same thing to my replacement rn too

Honorable mentions:

the guy who talked about how he always open carries and implied he was at the moment

the manager that would laugh at me when I did intros w new ppl bc he thought my hobbies were weird and ig was not afraid to let me know it each time

the supervisor obsessed w elon musk who tried to work 80 weeks bc he genuinely believed billionares work 100+ hr weeks and was so tired he made zero sense and didn’t remember how to do anything

the coworker i replaced who would tell two areas she was busy with the other area but then go to a meeting room and nap for the day. she now does mlms full time. 

So in school this one year I had this one bitch in my class whom we will call Regina George for hopefully obvious reasons. And she was just. A massive bigot. Constantly bullying the neurodivergent kids, being an asshole to gay ppl, openly hating sushi. She was just,,, the worst. And I had made it my personal mission to destroy her (not like that you sickos). I drew a shitty copy of her face and stuck it to a pillow whenever I needed to punch something and you may think I'm lying about that much like a politician may say he wants equal opportunity for all, or a person on the internet claims I'm "really not that attractive so I should stop worshipping myself" which doesn't even make sense because like hello can you see me rn and also all my trauma and mental illnesses are stored in my dump truck ass which is why it's so big and you probably think I'm deflecting my deep rooted insecurities by making jokes about how hot I am which is not true and- point is I really hated this Regina bitch. So deep was my burning desire to set her hair on fire that I hatched a plan. Regina obviously wants more bigots and Trump supporters in positions of power, right? What better way to anger her than have me, an openly queer and pagan punk that's read the communist manifesto 3 times, get onto the school council leadership team? Pretty smart, right? Wrong. I had no leadership experience whatsoever and in hindsight I probably should've been focused on getting onto the team to help people rather than have my one motivation be a giant middle finger to some rich cishet girl who's dad is probably gone. Ok that was dark but you get what I'm saying, I hated this bitch. But anyway, I gave my big speech about leadership and equality and if I got onto the team I'd give the school bathrooms actually good toilet paper that doesn't feel like I'm having intercourse with a cactus covered in sandpaper. And it worked. My unhinged demonic definitely-possessed-by-a-crack-addict, stop-trying-to-drink-the-box-of-juice-you-found-in-a-bin-wtf-is-wrong-with-you self got onto a team full of white brunette children with rich parents. Excellent. Now all I needed to do was convert a herd of pubescent children into spitting on Regina's shoes and throwing gas cans back at the police. Shouldn't be hard, right? Wrong again. Apparently no one is willing to listen to a short feminine presenting dork with anger issues. Weird. My plan to make Regina's life miserable was failing. And there was only one thing left to do. You know those thoughts you get, where the side of your brain that practices kindness and forgiveness tells you not to do it but the other side that eats crayons and memories WAP is telling you to do it for no other reason than it'd be fucking hilarious if you were a character in a tv show (which I'm starting to feel like with U guys. I'm not mad tho, I feel like a small mammal in an enclosure as a group of four year olds watches me take a shit as they start giggling hysterically). So I stared deep into the mirror of agony and asked God where my moral stance lies if not elsewhere than replaceable specks of dust on a dirt road. And god, with her many mouths and her many tragedies, says nothing. So anyway I bought a roll of stickers of the lgbt pride flag online and stuck them on all of Regina's belongings without her knowing. Yes it was funny as shit no I don't regret being an asshole. The immense amount of joy it brought me to see this girl become enraged and try to frantically tear off a sticker of a rainbow off her school bag. Which really proves that you can do all the goodness your heart demands of you but at the end of the day death and life do not care what you have done and so why not make yourself immortal. Anyways this has been fun bestie love U also who do you speculate I am I'm curious 💖💖💖

oh my gods i don’t know if i should be proud or terrified, i’m most likely feeling both. but honestly she had it coming

old desk, new tricks

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

OFMD Kinktober 2022 Prompt 4: Desk Sex/Dirty Talk

Stede buys a new desk. What should they do with it?

Part of Series Our Flag Means Stupid Bad Sex: For Kinktober 2022, my attempt to portray each kink prompt in the most unsexy manner possible. If anything in here manages to turn you on, you are a special snowflake and I salute you on your unique life path.

There comes a time in every man's life when he needs to replace his cabin desk with an even larger, more expensive desk.

It's nothing personal, Stede tells his old desk, the one he'd originally gotten to replace his even more original desk, which Ed had unreasonably thrown into the ocean despite being completely unprovoked.

He doesn't literally tell his desk that, because Stede doesn't talk to furniture, unlike some people.

"Here you are, big girl!" Ed says to Stede's New Desk as he carries it into the room with the help of Wee John and Frenchie.

"Don't feel bad, old desk, just think of it as a promotion!" Frenchie attempts to soothe Old Desk's hurt feelings.

"It can't hear you, it doesn't have ears!" Stede says bitchily as they advance towards him.

"Where do you want it, love?" Ed huffs.

"Exactly the same place as the old one, please!" Stede points his hand to where the old desk is still sitting, because no one thought to move it ahead of time, because everyone on the Revenge is a stupid fucking dork.

The men set the desk down and Ed ponders for a minute. There isn't any room to move Old Desk out with New Desk already in the room, they won't fit next to each other. But he has an idea.

"What if we pick the old desk up and lift it over the new desk and out the door?"

Stede smiles his stupid fucking dork smile that makes Ed want to ride his crotch like Yoshi on Rainbow Road.

"That's brilliant, Ed!" Stede truly and honestly believes that every idea Ed has ever had is brilliant, unless the idea doesn't work out, in which case Stede truly and honestly always knew it wouldn't work.

And so the four of them each grab a leg of Old Desk and hoist it up, lifting it over New Desk. It goes great.

For about four seconds. When the desk has completed half of its journey, Frenchie and Stede both feel their muscles giving out and once and set their end down on the floor.

"Hey, what are you doing, we're lifting that!" Ed protests. Two of the Old Desk's legs are on the floor, the rest of the desk leaning on top New Desk.

"These hands aren't made for labor," Frenchie says, holding his hands up, then looking at Stede like, 'what's your excuse?'

But that was going to be Stede's excuse, and now he doesn't have one, so he crosses his arms and huffs, blowing a blond curl out of his face.

"You know," Wee John says, standing back against the window, "They kinda look like they're fuckin' like that."

Ed starts laughing and Stede glares at him again, but secretly Stede thinks that Wee John is right, they do look like they're fucking. They look like a smaller panda going at it on a larger panda. Only pandas don't do it like that, they don't really have much sex at all, and Stede feels just awful about that and wishes he could somehow help, like maybe he could talk to the pandas, only he knows that pandas are deaf and couldn't hear him.

He sighs. "Well, what do we do now?"

Ed gets that look in his eye, that now-I'm-fucking-with-you-Stede-the-love-of-my-life-who-I-harass-and-don't-deserve look that he gets, the look Stede married him for.

"Come on, man, look at those arms. You're like a... a sexy rectangle. You can lift that end all on your own, can't you?"

"No Ed, I can't. These guns are just for show."

"Bet."

"What does that mean?"

"I bet you can! You take that end, I'll take this one." And that's when the grunting starts.

Frenchie and Wee John know better than the interfere when there's grunting, they weren't born yesterday. They don't know when they were born, but they can remember before yesterday so it wasn't then.

Frenchie nudges John with his elbow.

"Kinda hot, yeah?"

"The captains, or the desks?"

"The desks, the captains are stupid fucking dorks, you know that."

"What do you think the desks are saying to each other?"

The words "...arms I married you for..." come floating towards them as Stede attempts to lift his end of the desk, which sets it in a nice, rhythmic, rocking motion.

Frenchie thinks for a moment.

"Oh New Desk, you fucking like that, don't you? You fucking filthy whore desk. Taste my morning wood."

Wee John affects an even lower voice than normal.

"Give it to me, Old Desk, fuck me in the desk-hole like it's your last day on earth, you filthy wooden shit."

"I'll fuck the... the sap... right out of you, New Desk. You won't have any sap left after this!"

"Guys, that isn't how desks work! What's a desk hole, anyway?" Stede whines.

"Focus, mate! Lift with your sexy little legs!" Ed replies.

"Oh Old Desk, I wish we could be together. I wish this consensual sexual encounter between two large pieces of furniture would last forever!"

"Me too, New Desk, but you know me. You know my Old Desk ways. I'm a loner, New Desk. A rebel."

"If you two don't stop that, I'm going to find whoever is in charge of lowering your salary and politely ask them to do it," Stede says red-faced as he finally gets his end of Old Desk into the air.

"You're doing it, mate, look at those muscles go!" Ed laughs as they shimmy their way towards the door before setting it down.

Frenchie scratches the back of his head.

"Hey, captain? What were you going to do with Old Desk?"

Stede shrugs. "Throw it in the ocean, invite Calico Jack over to shoot it with a cannon, the ush. Why, do you want it?"

Frenchie looks at Wee John and shrugs.

"It's just... I'm feelin' kind of an attachment to it now, you know? It's been a big part of my life for the last ten minutes or so." Wee John nods in agreement.

"Where would you put it? What would you even do with it?"

Wee John cuts in. "We could put it in the hold!"

"And we could... pretend to write stuff, on it? Just to feel cool? Or we could draw."

Stede shrugs. "Ask whoever is in charge of deciding what goes in the hold."

"I don't know who that is."

Ed shrugs as well. "Make Izzy do it."

Frenchie's shoulders fall. "Izzy never lets us to anything fun in the hold, he's always busy down there."

"Okay, okay, just tell him I said you could do it!" Stede snaps. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to put New Desk to the test."

Ed wiggles his eyebrows up and down. "Have you tested it for... sturdiness?"

Stede waves his hand. "No, that's later on the schedule. First we're testing proper chair-to-desk ratio, writability with one sheet of parchment, writability with multiple sheets of parchment, ability to maintain quill verticality, and then..." his voice trails off as Wee John and Frenchie move their new desk to the hold.

They spend a good ten minutes excitedly hanging around the desk before they get bored with it forever, which is good news, because any longer and Izzy think he might have thrown his back out if he had to lay there under Swede any longer.

It's Time for 'LGB' and 'T' to Go Their Separate Ways

Brad Polumbo

26 Oct 2019

---------------------------------------------------------

The growing rift between increasingly radicalized transgender-rights activists and the lesbian, gay and bisexual (LGB) communities has finally come out into the open. This week, Europe’s biggest LGBT-rights organization, the London-based Stonewall charity, was publicly accused of subordinating LGB rights to the group’s increasingly single-minded goal of replacing sex with gender as a marker of identity. As Helen Joyce recently wrote in Standpoint, “Stonewall went all in for gender self-ID. Its online glossary now describes biological sex as ‘assigned at birth’ (presumably by a midwife with a Hogwarts-style Sorting Hat). ‘Gay’ and ‘lesbian’ now mean same-gender, not same-sex, attraction. ‘Transphobia’ is the ‘fear or dislike of someone based on the fact that they are trans, including the denial/refusal to accept their gender identity.’ At a stroke, anyone who declares themselves exclusively attracted to people of the same sex has become a bigot.”

As a gay man who lives in the United States, I have no direct stake in Britain’s intra-LGBT politics. (“LGB/T” might now be a more apt term.) But I am surprised that it has taken this long for such a formal breach to occur. The same pressures have been building everywhere, and it was only a matter of time before someone acted on them.

After the U.S. Supreme Court legalized gay marriage nationwide in the landmark 2015 decision Obergefell v. Hodges, many believed the fight for gay rights would begin to wind down. Yet that didn’t happen. Instead, the LGBT-advocacy sector simply redirected its available staff, fundraising and rhetoric to other projects. I know this because I saw this happen, both as a university student, gay man and equal-rights advocate.

LGBT flag designed by Daniel Quasar.

In a relatively short period of time, the gay-rights movement fused with more radical campus-based gender and identity-politics movements, to become the compound movement now known as “LGBTQ+”—lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, “queer” and more. Even many people within the movement now have trouble keeping up with all the new subcategories contained within that plus sign. One version of the rainbow flag unveiled last year has 11 different colors on it. The creator, Daniel Quasar, identifies as a “queer non-binary demiguy” whose pronouns are “xe/xem/xyr.” None of these bizarre neologisms have any resonance to those of us who joined the gay-rights movement simply to affirm and protect the basic rights of people to be who they are and love who they choose without stigma or legal sanction. We’ve been forced to watch the simple moral logic of non-discrimination be transformed into a self-parodic alphabet soup of invented identities.

Over the last few months, a Democratic presidential debate focused on LGBT issues was highjacked by a rogue transgender woman who shouted slogans about trans rights while the candidates and moderators nodded along robotically. Presidential candidate Joe Biden has called for unisex prisons, a policy that, if implemented, would lead to the rape of female prisoners. Senator Kamala Harris, another Democrat running for president, even came under fire for daring to suggest that pregnancy is a “women’s” issue—since it is now fashionable to highlight the fact that trans men and the “non-binary” also can bear children.

In his recent Netflix special Sticks and Stones, comedian Dave Chappelle nearly got himself canceled for pointing out the growing estrangement between the LGB and trans communities (whom he collectively referred to as “alphabet people”). This being a forbidden topic, it goes without saying that the ultra-woke outlet Vice ran a scathing review of the special, later echoed by other progressive outlets, such as Salon. LGBT activists chided Chappelle for his alleged transphobia on Twitter, despite the fact that viewers themselves gave the show a 99% rating. This is now a typical pattern: Whenever someone runs afoul of gender orthodoxy, the official pundit class has to pretend it’s appalled, a difficult conceit to sustain when sites such as Rotten Tomatoes make popular assessments a matter of public record.

Chappelle used the analogy of a car trip shared by passengers G, L, T and B. The Gs are driving, with the Ls in the passenger seat. The Ts are in the back. “Everyone in the car resents the Ts,” Chappelle says. “The Ts are making the trip take longer.” Trans comedians and activists, who’ve become accustomed to pride of place in the intersectionalist hierarchy, were up in arms. But Chappelle made it abundantly clear that he had no animus toward anyone in the LGBT community: The target of his satire was not any one group, but the increasingly ridiculous conceit that all of these “alphabet people” are happy fellow travelers. LGB rights and T activism have been revealed to be unnatural bedfellows, and it’s inevitable that, as is happening in Britain, they will go their separate ways.

Gays, lesbians and bisexuals all have something obvious in common: same-sex attraction. This is an alternative sexual orientation that, to some extent at least, shapes our experiences and alters our life outcomes. We typically identify with our biological sex—and in fact, sometimes have spent many years feeling trapped by it. To be gay is to understand that sex is set at birth. My sexual attraction, likewise, is based on hard-wired factors beyond my control.

Transgenderism is a separate concept. While homosexuality leads to obvious differences in real-life behavior, transgenderism offers a categorial redefinition of what it means to be a man or a woman. As Joyce describes it, a “gender identity” is a quasi-spiritual concept—almost like a soul—that is “something between an internal essence, knowable only to its possessor, and stereotypically masculine or feminine appearance and behavior.”

Gay rights activists simply want society to accept their different ways of living and loving—since gay men and lesbians pursue romantic interests and build families in ways that are at odds with conventional heterosexual expectations. Followers of radical gender theory, on the other hand, demand that we all reject our basic understanding of biological sex in favor of a recently conceptualized abstract notion of human identity.

Of course, the idea of transgenderism per se isn’t new—nor is the (perfectly valid and just) demand that people with gender dysphoria be treated with decency and respect. But the original form of this demand was based on the far more reasonable idea that gender is a social construct distinct from biological sex. It was not disputed that a transgender woman is a biologically male human who identifies with the social norms traditionally associated with woman. But in recent years, transgender activists have demanded that sex and gender be conflated, and that the very idea of innate biological differences be pushed into the background. At the most absurd extreme, there are now athletes and scholars who seriously suggest that being male offers no competitive physical advantages over being female, a proposition that even small children know to be unhinged.

One of the unsettling elements embedded within this advocacy is the demand that women—lesbians, more specifically—make themselves sexually available to trans women, on the far-fetched theory that gender identity, not sex, is the real source of human attraction. As Jonathan Best notes, Stonewall now has defined “homosexuality” as referring to “someone who has an emotional romantic and/or sexual orientation towards someone of the same gender.”

“Did you see what happened there?” Best writes. “Same-sex attraction has become same-gender attraction. This might seem academic. But take a moment to reflect on what it means in the context of Stonewall’s affirmation of gender identity. Stonewall is asserting that lesbians are attracted to anyone with a female gender identity, whether that person is biologically male or female. This turns gay and lesbian desire into transphobia. I’m a gay man—I’m attracted to male bodies—not people performing male gender roles. And, yes, that means I like male genitalia. (I really like it). Trans activists argue that my sex-focused homosexuality is transphobic. I’ve seen trans activists compare non-trans inclusive gay desire to racism and describe gay sexuality as ‘genital hang-ups.’”

In the United States, the Democrat-controlled House of Representatives has passed the Equality Act, a so-called LGBT rights bill that outlaws discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity. That is a noble goal that would seem to be in keeping with America’s larger civil-rights legacy. But the Act explicitly redefines biological sex under federal law according to self-defined gender identity—so it easily could allow for a whole host of adverse consequences. And as we have seen in Canada, where a trans woman tried to leverage human-rights law to force immigrant aestheticians to wax her “female” scrotum and penis, the victims of this movement tend to be women.

Even under current U.S. law, Title VII of the Civil Rights Act serves to outlaw discrimination on the basis of “race, color, religion, sex, or national origin.” Activists are arguing that transgender identity is protected under the law’s reference to “sex,” even though “gender identity” is mentioned nowhere in the law. Trans activists also are demanding government support for policies that subject gender-confused children to potentially sterilizing hormones and other aggressive therapies. Their rights are being sacrificed on the altar of gender self-identification as well.

The redefinition of sex as gender is a step that most people—even the most well-meaning and humane members of society—simply will never accept, no matter what laws activists manage to get passed. And the effort to ram this doctrine down the throats of ordinary people will tarnish any movement that insists on such mantras. So long as self-described “LGBT” activists demand that a male with gender dysphoria is “really” a female, many otherwise accepting people will remain opposed to, or at least skeptical of, the wider movement.

As a right-of-center journalist, I know dozens of young conservatives, particularly women, who are completely open and accepting of their gay and lesbian friends, and supportive of gay rights; but simply won’t accept that a man can be a woman, even if they are forced to give lip service to this mantra as a condition of passing sensitivity-training courses or using social media. Many progressive news outlets were aghast when new polling showed that “young people are growing less tolerant of LGBTQ individuals.” But a closer look into the survey’s methodology revealed that on most questions, they were asked about “LGBTQ people,” not gay people. Support for “equal rights” remained steady, but comfort around “LGBTQ” people has declined. Notably, the survey found that comfort levels around “a same-sex couple holding hands” remain virtually unchanged. Although it’s fashionable to pretend otherwise, it’s the T that’s the issue.

To repeat what I wrote above, transgender people deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. And I have spoken out strongly against anti-trans policies (such as a ban on trans soldiers in the U.S. military). To say that these two causes—LGB and T—should separate isn’t to say that one has value and the other does not. I am simply noting that their goals are at odds. As gay writer Andrew Sullivan recently wrote in New York magazine:

The truth is that many lesbians and gay men are quite attached to the concept of sex as a natural, biological, material thing. And gay men are defined by our attraction to our own biological sex. We are men and attracted to other men. If the concept of a man is deconstructed, so that someone without a penis is a man, then homosexuality itself is deconstructed. Transgender people pose no threat to us, and the vast majority of gay men and lesbians wholeheartedly support protections for transgender people. But transgenderist ideology — including postmodern conceptions of sex and gender — is indeed a threat to homosexuality, because it is a threat to biological sex as a concept.

Canadian writer Sky Gilbert, a gay writer, made a similar point in Quillette, noting that transgender activists increasingly are telling young children who may grow up to be gay or lesbian that their effeminate or butch expression is actually a sign of a transgender soul trapped in the wrong body: “Until the latter decades of the twentieth century, if parents caught their son playing with dolls, they might suspect he was gay. And if he grew up to be an adult with same-sex desire, he would go to a psychiatrist to seek help. Now that we have (spuriously) separated sexuality from gender, a parent who catches his boy playing with dolls will take a trip to a psychiatrist—but this time for different reasons: Little he might be a little she.”

The idea of biological sex is at the core to the gay identity—of my gay identity—and the stereotypical definitions of gender expression that the transgender movement peddles ignores the existence of men and women who happen to express their gender in unorthodox ways without actually being transgender. Most of these people simply grow up to be gay. To demand that these children be instead labeled gender dysphoric is essentially a form of woke conversion therapy. We gays experienced quite enough of that phobic behavior from the socially conservative right. We have no interest in getting force-fed another serving from the progressive left.