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Kiana Khansmith
Doug Jones
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Cosimo Galluzzi
Not today Justin
pixel skylines
almost home
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
$LAYYYTER
Andulka
Product Placement
d e v o n
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Xuebing Du
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@shayminlucario07
hey reminder to get the fuck off my blog and block me if you think transandrophobia is real ok? or if you think shinigami eyes isn't a good tool to keep yourself safe from transandrobros and twerfs ok? or that tma/tme is just creating another binary ok? I genuinely cannot overstate how much you're not welcome here, fuck off.
parents are allowed to straight-up torture their kids with zero consequences. they can withhold food and water, lock you out of shelter, confiscate your belongings, bar you from human contact, attack and harm you and exert complete control over your physical appearance. and this is just the norm. if you speak out against it you're seen as a delinquent or a predator. even otherwise progressive people get uncomfortable with the idea of dismantling the nuclear family unit because they still see it as the best way to keep kids safe when that simply couldn't be further from the truth. it's evil.
“mousidy platformed a child rapist!!”
the story she shared was about a perpetrator of cocsa. they were both children when it happened, and cocsa is a far more complex issue than an adult sexually assaulting a child. i’m personally not educated enough on this subject to expand upon this, but suffice to say neither the perpetrator nor the victim was old enough to even be considered a teenager when it occurred.
that aside, the meat of the story is how the person who shared it was subsequently sent to juvie for the rest of her childhood, where she herself was abused and sexually assaulted by the adults around her. and i mean. if you think it’s okay for any prisoner to be raped in prison regardless of their crimes, let alone a child prisoner, idk what to tell you. in general if you think there should be prisons for children there is something deeply evil within your belief system
roommate is identifying pokemon on cries and i swear we're just hearing the same noise over and over
pokemon: kjdjdkejejejdj
roommate: squilch
pokemon: kgkkddkdkekj
roommate: gluehuff
pokemon: kshsjsjejsjsks
roommate, excited this time: it's cumguzzler!! i love that one
that's what i said
[Image description: tags reading: "#skrelp jumpluff and guzzlord respectively" / End description.]
you ask your trans man boss for a raise and he says you're dividing the trans community
the sense of trans unity at the workplace has really been strained by you reporting your transmasc coworker for sexual harassment. can't trans women and trans men just have crazy sex instead of reporting each other to HR?
So I saw you're trying to start a union. Don't you know we're all faggots in the eyes of the state?
I also ☝️ think it's important to tell the difference between "the author's barely-disguised fetish" and "the audience member's unrealised kink that they're projecting onto the author because seeing a character tied up is making them feel funny in their Audience Member Parts"
"Dogwhistles" are called that based on real "dog whistles", many of which are pitched too high to be audible to most humans, but are still perfectly audible to dogs.
Rhetorical dogwhistles are things that most people would not be able to identify as bigoted because they're INTENDED to have plausible deniability.
The wording changes are meant to be subtle enough that people really can mix them up accidentally when they don't have much information!
So when the gender critical movement calls trans women "transwomen", they're hoping for 2 things.
this usage will spread enough among people who don't know any better, to give transphobes the plausible deniability of not LOOKING like a frothing bigot constantly.
the usage grammatically places trans women in a different category than other women; it's changing "trans" from an adjective to part of a noun to make this distinction.
The more we can avoid this usage, the less deniability have transmisogynists have when using it, and the less we are helping their cause.
I don't actually think ceding this ground is LESS divisive than pointing it out politely.
People know that the whole "don't portray [harmful action] because viewers might recreate it" thing is a rule for children's shows right? It's supposed to be shit like "don't show peppa pig playing with fire so we don't get sued if a kid watches it and burns their house down." Not like, fanfiction for adults.
prev i hope u dont mind me sharing ur tags bc yeah this is an interesting add on
just saw the funniest thing on twitter where someone was broken up with bc they ate 7 croissants im CRYINGGGG
"I have sensory issues so you can't eat in front of me" has got to be the most quintessentially new age uwu mouse in a jean jacket neurodivergent statement I have ever heard
There is no such thing as “the evil kill-people disorder that makes you kill people”; it has always been a myth made up by demonization to sell more ableism.
"the evil abuse-people disorder that makes you abuse people" is also a myth, no matter what people on TikTok try to tell you
Interesting mile-long fanfic/theorypost/xreader imagine! Have you considered using this button
It may look like a yummy Burger, but it is called a "read more"
the egg and the closet are two different concepts
to be in the closet is to not be "out", not be "known" as what you are. much ink has been spilled about how the closet isn't really a straight line, you can be out to some people and closeted elsewhere, out online but closeted to everyone in real life.
the egg is a state of unknowing. you do not know you are transfeminine. you might be drawn to femininity, you might know this consciously and seek it out or even publicly express femininity, but if you either do not know your own transfemininity or are in deep denial about it, you're in the egg.
knowledge cracks the egg. if you're outright searching for reasons to transition or justifications for your own transgenderness the egg is cracked. if you've admitted to yourself your own transfemininity the egg is cracked. this is usually still a volatile experience, there might be some questioning or retreating back into the shell, some moments feel stronger than others, but you can't uncrack the egg.
hi. can a post be about women for 10 seconds? i think can trans men handle reading a post that centers women and understand that the knowledge could also be applicable for them
Also the term egg is transfem specific? An egg cracks and a chick comes out of it. Men invent your own words challenge
top comforting statements to tell the last few kids getting picked up real late at dismissal:
your mom will be here soon dont worry
youre in charge now
you gotta stay here all night and help us scrub the floors
we have to eat the labubu for survival
???
Example art from Tumblr users @poltergrease @teenageclown @randomationality
✨Star Trek TNG Miku✨
Idk who OP is but yeah
👏👏👏
So--when I was in my mid-twenties and the Disaster Ex tried to make me kill myself, the local mental hospital didn't have any beds open in the usual ward for attempted suicides.
What they did have was a single spare bed in the small, comfortable, quiet, wildly expensive facility for girls with eating disorders.
They asked each of the young women currently living there if it was acceptable that I might occupy a bed in one of the rooms for a while, just the long weekend while I was waiting for a doctor's evaluation. I hadn't been violent, I had gone with the cops without putting up any fight at all, and I was still and I was small and all those things were sufficient for me to be deemed safe. So up they sent me, to somewhere high in Western Psych, above the smells and sounds of the denser-packed wards, above where the care workers were harried and frustrated, to a gentle space with seven or eight young women in it.
I was five foot three, and I weighed about 115 pounds. I was underweight for my frame, as a fair amount of that weight was martial arts muscle; I would probably have been ten pounds heavier if I were healthy, with the amount of activity I got.
I was at least two inches shorter than pretty much every other young woman there, six or seven inches shorter than one of them, and I had at least thirty pounds on several of them. The tallest was not allowed to walk, she had to sit in a wheelchair and be pushed around, because her condition was so advanced that the motion would undo what good her hard work had done.
And over the course of the four or five days I was there, multiple of them came up to me alone to quietly tell me that I had the *perfect* body, and they wished they could be as skinny as I was. That I needed to live, because I was beautiful, and if they were as beautiful as I was, they wouldn't need to be here.
Their eyes were on me all the time, in the hours that I wasn't sleeping. I spent a lot of time sleeping, and we took our meals separately (I not needing to be monitored while I ate, and not having my food weighed), but we spent a fair amount of time sitting around in the little shared living room space, talking about movies and magazines and books we'd loved, talking about our families. I didn't talk about my family; they didn't pry.
They were all so fucking nice.
And I could have broken any one of them over my narrow knee. They each thought they were bigger than I was.
Their brains lied to them, every time they looked at a mirror. Every time they looked down at their own thighs. What they saw was not what I could see. They had bright, beautiful eyes in dark hollows, and I could count their vertebrae, could see their ribs winging when they breathed, could see the motion of every tendon on the backs of their hands.
They weren't celebrities. They weren't being paid to have particular bodies, nor were they deep in the toxic sea of having strangers take photos of them to sell to gossip rags if they stepped out of doors in old jeans. They had families and loved ones who were doing everything that they could to protect them, to uplift them and help them be healthy. They were just everyday people--a nurse, a couple of students, a couple of recent college grads, a young woman who had decided it was time to really get help because she wanted to be a mother--and still they'd been so injured by the neverending fucking deluge of body-image bullshit that they were dying of it.
That was in 2009. Things are worse now. I think about them still. I hope that they're all right.
And in case some people aren't aware: anorexia is deadly. There is a point at which your body looses the ability to digest food and you are no longer capable of improving.
