First attempt at a Trevor Henderson style image ❤ https://www.instagram.com/p/B_BDsVzHNJj/?igshid=1sdydixficnwg
YOU ARE THE REASON
Sade Olutola
macklin celebrini has autism
cherry valley forever
ojovivo
Jules of Nature
RMH
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Sweet Seals For You, Always
todays bird

JVL

Janaina Medeiros
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Game of Thrones Daily

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art blog(derogatory)

izzy's playlists!

Origami Around
Fai_Ryy

seen from Chile
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@jameses
First attempt at a Trevor Henderson style image ❤ https://www.instagram.com/p/B_BDsVzHNJj/?igshid=1sdydixficnwg
Yeet
Photos of gay trans male activist Lou Sullivan throughout his life, as presented in Lou Sullivan: Daring to be a Man Among Men by Brice D. Smith
I never see historic trans male posts and I’m crying thank you
Love this
Where did these random followers come from damn thank ye
I laughed way too hard at this
in case anyone is looking through the notes trying to find the original artist it’s will mcphail !! feel free to check out his site but also here are some other things he made too !!
OOOHHH CLICK ON THAT LINK THIS GUY IS FUCKING GREAT
HOLY SHIT
this guy GETS IT
I found sources.
The word “man” was gender neutral and referred to both sexes until the 13th century
The female specific pronoun “she” was invented in the 12th century.
The word “girl” was gender neutral and referred to children of both sexes until the 15th century
High heels were invented for men and were worn predominantly by men until the 16th century
From the mid 16th century to the 19th century boys would typically wear dresses until the age of 7
Until the early 1930s pink was considered the appropriate colour for baby boys and blue was the colour for baby girls
In 2017, a Christian couple pull their 6yo son out of a primary school because his classmate is transgender - citing their “traditional beliefs” IMPORTANT NOTE: Last source is transphobic and from a pro-life website that attempts to defend the dumb ass couple. Feel free to ignore it if you prefer, but it was included for the sake of accuracy.
Reblogging because verifiable sources make every information 70% better. Thanks for the addition!
Proving that all terms, labels and words are nothing but concepts of which we create and they do not define who we are.
if you read a good fic, leave a comment 👏🏼👏🏼
if you read a good fic, leave a comment 👏🏼👏🏼
if you want to show your appreciation,
and give the author some motivation,
if you read a good fic, leave a comment 👏🏼👏🏼
Except from LGBT book I’m working on
Maybe they would be okay.
The smell of fresh hay filled the room. There was only one horse left in the stables, a deep maroon mare. She threw her head and nickered when the two boys.stumbled in, nearly tripping over each others feet. Jack held Ellis’ hand tightly, his face nearly as red as the horse’s hide. He pulled him out of view, then backed him up against one of the rough wooden walls.
Ellis was nervous, his right hand intertwined with Jack’s, and his left placed firmly on his chest. They kissed again, while Ellis’ mind drew a blank. He’d never really kissed anyone he’d truly loved.
But was that what this was about? Filling a gap? Checking something off his bucket list? Hell, he could’ve gone into town for that. Done exactly what his cousin, Allison, does every other weekend- have a nice little one night stand and never see the other person’s face again.
He didn’t know whether or not he really wanted to have a boyfriend, especially one he’d hated for so long. One that he’d fantasized about killing rather than kissing. Especially one who probably was a liar. Who probably had an ulterior motive to this.
Jack tried to lean in farther, but Ellis’s hand gripped his shirt. His breath was picking up. He wasn’t kissing back anymore.
Jack stopped then, pulling back. He took a deep breath, frustrated, but he didn’t let Ellis see that.
“Sorry...” He muttered.
Ellis let go of him, dropping his hands to his sides. He sank down to the floor, letting out a sigh.
“No- I- it’s just...a bit..fast..” Ellis looked away. “I- I’m not going to be good…”
“What are you talking about?” Jack asked, unsure if he should try and comfort him. He wanted to. He wanted to hold him and assure him that everything would be fine. But he knew that was the opposite of what Ellis wanted. Ellis wanted his personal space, his privacy, and to be left alone with his flowers.
“I’m not going to be a good...boyfriend..” Ellis strained like it was hard for him to say. “I’ll never be.”
“Don’t say that,” Jack kneeled down to him. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you.”
You’ve been in love with a lie, then. Ellis’ thoughts filled in. Do you think you could ever love the truth?
“I- um..” Ellis nearly spilled, then he decided to cut it off. “It’s..It’s twelve, we should get to class. And no gay shit in public, either. I have a reputation to maintain.”
“Fuck. It’s twelve? I guess it would be World Lit, then.” Jack let the subject change go. He was lucky to get close to him, let alone kiss him like that. “Maybe we could work on the homework togeth-” Jack started, but Ellis abruptly pushed himself to his feet, brushing the hay from his clothing.
“No fucking way. Don’t even think about it. I’m not working with you.” His icy blue eyes met Jack’s hazel ones, making Jack blush again. “That’s how rumors start. If anyone asks, you’re still- you know- just my roommate, and I still hate you with every fiber of my being.”
Jack wasn’t exactly surprised. Here he was, the cynical, snarky boy he’d fallen in love with, ditching him, yet again.
[A/N: Just a small excerpt from my novel project I’m working on. Ellis is actually trans, meanwhile, Jack actually believes he’s responsible for the disappearance of a missing girl. It’s a vampire enemies-to-lovers type story, with a lot of mystery, suspense, and other goodies. I’ll update this as much as I can!]
Thanks for reading!
A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.
A question mark walks into a bar?
Two quotation marks “Walk into” a bar.
A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to drink.
The bar was walked into by a passive voice.
Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They drink. They leave.
THANKS FOR TEACHING ME THINGS THAT ENGLISH CLASS HAS FAILED TO ACKNOWLEDGE
More, please.
An Oxford comma walks into a bar. It orders a pint of beer, some snacks, and a shot.
A split infinitive used to often walk into a bar.
There is a bar which a preposition-ended sentence walked into.
An emphatic copula did walk into a bar.
A present subjunctive walked into a bar hoping that he be able to order a drink.
A typo walks into a bra
pssst i wanna follow some writeblrs pls like this or rb to ur writeblr if:
you’re LGBTQA+ and/or have LGBTQA+ characters
you write contemporary fiction, new adult, urban fantasy, romance, introspection, or poetry (just some of my fav things)
both of the above (for bonus points)
I’m FTM, bi/pan, and I mainly do romance/fantasy!
hello writeblr tag!
could you do me a favor and reblog this if you are a queer writer? i’d love to follow you! also - i do have an active writing server for queer writers called the queer library! we’re all a bunch of fun people and the server is for all ages! feel free to let me know if you’d like to join - but also, just reblog this so i can follow all the queer writeblrs out there!
Not sure if I’d qualify, but I’m FTM trans writer and bi/pan :)
Nobody:
Me, sitting in a chair trying to look as manly as possible:
This is how archaeologists hunt
trans guys... assemble
done just for fun & pride
buy as a sticker
My first haircut.. Was the most important step for me to start be myself.
N for Yancy?
N: Nightmare
“I don’t wanna be free…”
He could feel warm blood washing over his hands.
“…Of these amenities…”
He could feel a thrumming pulse against his fingers, slowly fading.
“If I tried to live this good out there…”
He wanted to stop feeling, he didn’t want to remember this –
“I’d have to be a thousandaire…”
There were sirens in the distance, he was scared, he didn’t mean it, he didn’t want to kill anybody, hurt, scare, yes, but not kill, oh God, oh God, what had he done –
“This is where I wanna grow old…”
He didn’t mean to hide, didn’t mean to run, he was scared –
“So I’m just praying…”
They found him quickly.
“I don’t make parole…”
He didn’t fight when they arrested him, blood still covering his hands.
“‘Cause I don’t wanna be free.”
Yancy bolted upright in bed with a scream, hands tearing at his hair. A cold sweat covered his body, making him shiver, his breathing coming in rapid sobbing gasps. He didn’t want to remember that, he didn’t want to think about it, he was locked away, he was safe here. This was home, now.
A guard banged on the cell bars, the loud clanging making Yancy flinch and yelp. “Shut up! Go back to fucking sleep!”
Yancy obediently laid back down, but he didn’t dare close his eyes. He rolled over, his back to the bars.
Yeah, home…