23 - ENFP - Taurus Call me Spud! Crusty old man enjoyer and avid fan of eating the rich. Reblogs are wild and untagged, most of my content is SFW though. (Sometimes I draw and write.)
planned parenthood offering laser hair removal which is a really necessary gender aligning procedure for many trans women!
it being introduced alongside botox and fillers and multiple of their clinics suddenly saying that they won't perform abortions on anyone above a certain BMI even though it's against their own internal standards
beyond the reinforcement of beauty standards and body fascism like, idk how many people realize Botox is a specific brand name, and that brand in question has donated over $135,000 USD to Republican politicians in the past year alone. yknow the people that regularly vote to defund planned parenthood.
and another thing but like this is also why all feminists need to be pro fat liberation cuz shit like this puts pregnant fat people's lives at risk, even when they do access abortions they are often referred out to a hospital with a longer wait and a steeper bill, and often denied pain management. these stories coming out from fat women lately tryna access care alongside PP now selling the beauty standard to women feels interconnected and predatory.
A doll youtuber I watch has made a video about the history of Polly Pocket, and she's describing the plots of the dvd specials, one of which features an elderly woman named Ms. Throckmorton, and my reaction was
“This means… of Rocky, possessive. Of the speaker.”
“My.”
“Correct. But only for names.”
“So you’re calling me…?”
Rocky repeats the word: “My Grace. Yes.”
“Are there other Graces? Why do you need to specify?”
Rocky considers this, tapping his xenonite-encased claws idly against the floor.
“No other Grace,” Rocky says. “We just do this.”
“Like an honorific,” Grace guesses. “It goes before everyone’s name? Everyone you know?”
Rocky whirs in surprise. “No, no, no. Not at all.”
“Okay, then who? What makes me qualify?”
Rocky is silent for a moment.
“...Does this offend Grace?” he asks, voice lower.
Grace blinks. “No! I don’t think so. Is there a reason to be offended?”
“Good,” Rocky says, relieved. Grace is starting to recognize what Eridian relief sounds like. “No, no reason.”
“Who else do you call that?”
“You don’t have this on Earth?”
Grace considers. What for, friends? He couldn’t call Marissa “my Marissa.” That would be weird.
“I still don’t know what it means,” he settles on. “So I couldn’t tell you.”
Rocky groans in frustration. He’s a very impatient tutor. “We just say it.”
“Are you my Rocky?” Grace asks. He hits the two keys to make the my note.
“I don’t know!” Rocky says. “You decide this.”
“I decide? Who do you use it for?”
“You. Adrian. I will use it for my pebbles.”
Grace blinks. “So few?”
Rocky shifts. “I am… you do not have the word yet. Eridian who works alone often, not close to many other Eridians.”
“What, mechanical engineer?”
Rocky chitters. “Acceptable.”
“Is Adrian your only friend?”
Rocky draws back, like he’s taken offense. “I have friends. Coworkers. But different.”
So just Adrian. And him.
“This worries you,” Rocky says.
“Adrian is your mate,” Grace points out. “I’m not your mate.”
“Correct. You are not. You do not like to be a mate.”
Grace isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he ignores it.
“I’m your friend,” Grace says.
Rocky hesitates, for a second. “...Correct.”
“Like your coworkers.”
“No.”
Grace sighs, rubbing his hand across his face. Okay, maybe that’s fair. It’s not like he felt about any of his coworkers like he feels about Rocky.
“Best friend,” Grace amends. “You’re my best friend, too.”
Rocky hums. “Acceptable.”
“Just acceptable? Now you are offending me. Can you just explain?”
This makes Rocky fall silent for a minute longer than usual. Grace is half-ready to apologize and to say let’s move on and to retype his own name without the superfluous my.
“The Earth ‘best friend’ is not strong enough,” Rocky says finally. “It does not translate this way.”
Grace runs his fingers through his hair, a little nervous, for some reason. “Okay.”
“It is…” Rocky pauses. He has to pause more often, now that they’re not using the translator, to simplify his language. “It means that I am not Rocky without my Grace. You are part of… of the whole. When I wake up, I think of you. When I work. When I eat. When I think I am going to die.”
Rocky speaks slowly, but it’s still a lot of Eridian for Grace to grasp all at once. Even as he works out the sentences in his head, he can feel hot tears rising in his eyes.
“It means that when you are sick, I am sick,” Rocky continues. “And it means I will take care of you, because taking care of you is taking care of myself.”
Grace bunches up his sleeve, wiping it across his face, blinking furiously.
Rocky’s voice is soft. “So Grace is part of Rocky. Grace is like a cell. You see? My Grace.”
Grace is quiet, for a moment, trying to get himself together. When he speaks, his voice is shaky.
“...Oh.”
Rocky hums, pressing his carapace gently against Grace’s arm. “You are leaking. Does this make you sad?”
Grace shakes his head, sniffing, crossing his arms across his knees and resting his chin on his sleeves. “Not at all.”
“Good, good.”
“I feel like that,” Grace mumbles. “Just like that. Just exactly—exactly like that.”
“About your old mate?”
“Don’t act stupid. You know I’m talking about you.”
Rocky hums, burrowing closer. Grace curls one arm around his carapace. That’s not enough, so he leans over, dropping his head down so his forehead presses against the xenonite.
“My Rocky,” Grace whispers in English.
“My Grace,” Rocky echoes in Eridian. Grace can recognize the note at the start. He will add it when he plays Rocky’s name.
“How long have you called me that?” Grace asks. “Must’ve been a while. I didn’t notice it change.”
butch is an extremely diverse identity that intersects lesbianism and strives for a masculinity that is not rooted in the patriarchy. butch is a gender identity that means many things to many different people, not just cis white lesbians. that includes lesbians of color, butches on t, butches on e, butches who are trans, butches who transitioned, butches who use he/him, butches who have a weird gender, boydykes, lesboys, and especially butches of the working class. if you don't support them then you don't actually support butches.
underrated tumblr feature is being able to catch up to yourself on your dash. so there is an END POINT. and you can say “ah, I have reached where I left off, there is no more to see! I’ll take my leave now and come back later when there are new posts.” instead of being stuck forever in a bottomless algorithm pit digging deeper and deeper till you have to summon monumental strength to climb out
This show is an accurate portrayal of how artists are hopeless dumbasses and we need a producer type to bring us back to earth to get anything meaningful done and I’m here for it
so many mental health issues these days are due to the fact that we no longer put the gargoyles on buildings that used to scare away the evil spirits that cause mental illness
maybe orpheus always looks back because his very effort to reverse death means that he can't look forward. if he could look forward, he could accept eurydice's death, grieve, and keep moving in life. his refusal to accept her death is looking back. his going down to the underworld, asking hades and persephone for her life, trying to lead her out... it's all 'looking back'. he does nothing for the entire story except look back. orpheus! looks! back! it's his entire thing! the story ends the same way it begins: orpheus looked back.
AI has made the internet so much less fun. I don't want to question whether a photo of a bunny is real. I don't want to worry about someone making a deepfake just because I posted a pic with my friends. I want to read a recipe and know that the photo is a real cake they made. Yes I know I need to touch grass but also I think I should be allowed to interact online without second-guessing whether someone fabricated every image for personal gain
btw this is about the tragedy of the commons. it's not about spending too much time online or whatever - it's about the fact that a handful of people are polluting the collective space to the detriment of everyone else, and that there is no way to stop them from doing that. it sucks and it's killing the internet, and I'm mad about that
Bucky walks around with multiple distinct mental states with varying mannerisms/gait/combat skills and inconsistent/contradictory levels of remembering traumatic events and Disagreements About What His Name Is. And they want you to think he's a singlet
i understand that it's unreasonable to expect a band on world tour to play in every country in the world but i do think they should only be allowed to call it a world tour if they play in every continent. we need to make it embarrassing to say world tour and then not even step foot in africa
