Not to be that guy, but saying “I hate all men, including trans men because I’m not transphobic.”, doesn’t make you less hateful. Nor does it make you less transphobic.
You’re essentially saying “if you choose to express yourself in the way that makes you most comfortable, I am going to hate you. I hate you for a core part of your being that has very little to do with whether or not you are actually deserving of hate.”
Discouraging trans men from actually being men because they do not wish for you to hate them, is transandrophobia.
Being a man and/or being masculine is not inherently evil, nor is it worthy of hate. Men are not a monolith and treating them like they are is only pushing them into the “well, you hate me so why should I help you?” camp.
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I'm just gonna say it because anyone still active is already in my dms. I hope George learns from his mistakes and takes accountability. I hope he finds a way to apologize directly to Caiti that she can accept and heal from. I hope that he stops drinking. I hope that he doesn't get completely cut off from every friendship he's made over the last decade because nowhere is good without anyone. I hope he works his ass off to regain the trust of the people who were once close to him. I hope everybody, including the fandom, heals and learns to trust people again, because the world is not inherently evil. I hope we all continue to create, and love, and be infinitely passionate about the things that mean the most to us. I hope that if you decide, whenever his public apology or explanation stream happens, that your time in the fandom is done, you all find something that fills you with just as much joy and inspiration as your time here did.
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this concept that won't leave my brain. It's like a little gremlin banging to be let out.
Particularly, - Batman is Gotham's hero; He's not like any other baby faced, squeaky clean, popular good guy. He's scarred and brutal and violent in his service.
But it's fine, because Gotham is like that, too.
It's never peaceful, but it's standing strong, and there's an unanimous agreement they have Batman to thank for that.
The thing about Bruce is that he gives. He bleeds for Gotham, dies little by little every night protecting it, sacrifices everything he can and a little bit more so it won't be swallowed up by the evil that took his parents.
He doesn't expect parades, or celebrations, or gratitude because in his mind, it's just the decent thing to do.
Goodness isn't a chore. It's a choice. It's a sword you pick up again and again until your hands spill red and then pick it up some more.
And there's a collective fear in Gotham City. that one day, Batman would get tired of bleeding. When the GCPD gangs up on him, for refusing to let them gun down an Arkham escapee, they watched.
" He's not presenting a danger right now. His healthcare isn't enough to cover medication and he was dissociating. Let me take him back."
" For what? So he could escape again and rob another bank, like all the others?! Why are you protecting this psycho?!"
" He needs help."
" I don't care. His 'needs' aren't our damn problem. He wouldn't be anyone's problem if you just stepped aside and let us do the job you're too chicken shit to do. Who's side are you on, anyway?"
Batman's jaw is screwed tight, but he doesn't move. If he did, that guy hiding behind him would paint the streets red with a bullet hole in his head.
" We're supposed to work together, Batman."
" I work with people. Not pigs."
Commissioner Gordon tried to be fast, but he was pushed back as nearly half the police force swarm Gotham's knight; Kicking, stomping, punching, attacking because they know he can't attack back.
Because he's Batman, and they're just people. And the crowd watches, eyes wide and limbs frozen, until they can't. Until they won't.
There's a purse flying between the two crowds, hitting one of the officers square in the face.
" Hands off our Bat!"
There's pushing; That's what Bruce can see. Bodies on bodies, but it's easier to breathe again without a forearm pressing on his windpipe. He can't tell what's happening, but he's pulled back, handled almost... Carefully.
" Hey," he knows this voice, this face; It's the mailman, probably the one guy brave enough to deliver to the Waynes, who wonks for Damian three times as he drives away, elping him stand on a bad leg. " You alright, Batman?"
Someone else picks up his weight, - It's the owner of the grocery store his boys like to shop at.
She's glaring at police man currently sharing punches with an angry mob of people. " Bastards roughed you up, huh? Jim! Get your car!"
The people make way for Jim until he safely unlocks his car, threatening to fire anyone who even touches a trigger before he wheels over to where they're at. " Take care of him, will you?"
Jim nods, " I'll try."
They drive away, Jim locking the car because he knows Batman. But the people here are tough. They're just as angry and vengeful as their city is.
" Why?"Bruce is speaking outloud, watching a dozen, hundred people fight; For him.
Jim thinks it's very simple. " Gotham's fucked up. But we take care of our own," and he looks at Batman, eyes gleaming and grateful and relived, just like the runaway in the back-seat. " You may not be one of them, but you're one of us. Hope that's enough."
There's quiet.
" Thank you. For fighting for us."
"... Thank you for letting me."
Batman says nothing, but he doesn't need to. Jim doesn't say anything to his glassy eyes, or the temple of his lip.
Hope isn't permanent, but it's not lost. Not if they're reminded to find it.
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