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skeletoncunts

I CAME OUT AS LESBIAN THREE YEARS LATER LOL

thedarkperidot

Dramatic snow leopard spots new camera in enclosure for the first time

slumberinggirl-deactivated20210

I love him

He chonk

Lmaooooo

Same energy

Literally every cat is the same

what-even-is-thiss

I understand more and more things about cisgender men the longer I’m on testosterone. I know why teenage boys use so much axe now. I understand the crying thing. I know why they accidentally break things. I know why they wear shorts in the snow. I know why so many of them don’t use washcloths. I see everything.

what-even-is-thiss

Okay. Y’all want explainations? I’ll tell you all the things.

Testosterone makes you warm. With young men especially it can actually get really uncomfortable while their testosterone levels are at their peak. Often times coats and winter pants will keep in all their heat and it gets uncomfortable. So it makes sense to pick a part of the body to be exposed to help them stay cool. The legs tend to be the least uncomfortable part of the body to feel cold on. The arms are uncomfortable, the face hurts when it gets cold, and the torso is where all the important stuff is. It doesn’t actually hurt that much to have your lower legs exposed and there’s no important organs there so that’s what they go with to keep themselves from overheating in their winter jackets. Along this same vein, they might take their shirts off to jog or just have a naked torso in general during the summer because they’re in more danger of overheating than estrogen dominant people. Older men, children, and estrogen dominant people tend to do this stuff less because they have less testosterone and are therefore colder.

The axe thing is because of testosterone as well. Early on in puberty especially and into adulthood as well boys and men will stink no matter how hard they try. People often complain about how men don’t shower enough and while there is some truth to that testosterone makes you sweaty and it makes your smell last longer. It doesn’t smell worse than women’s BO, but it is harder to get rid of and easier to get. Before I started taking T I could get away with taking a shower every other day or even every three days. Now I have to take a shower every day. And some days when I shower, put on deodorant, put body spray on my clothes, avoid heavy physical activity, I still end up smelling awful. I just smell bad and there’s only so much I can do about it and that bottle of axe starts looking really tempting.

With crying? Testosterone just makes you cry less. You still feel all the same emotions. You just don’t cry as much. Men are often socialized to not cry, yes, but even those who haven’t been taught that still cry less. That’s just how testosterone works. They hit puberty and then it’s just harder to cry. It doesn’t necessarily mean they feel less than estrogen dominant people or that they’re repressed. They just have a different physical reaction to emotion.

They accidentally break things because testosterone makes it easier to gain muscle. Sometimes you even do it without meaning to. I already accidentally grabbed or slammed things too hard. Now I have to consciously be gentle. Some people forget about being gentle for a split second. Then things break. Sometimes I look at my hands now like what the hell did I just do. Relearning how to know my own strength. It’s a learning process.

The thing where some men don’t use washcloths and use their hands or a bar of soap instead isn’t because they’re lazy. It’s because they’re covered in hair and the washcloth pulls at it. It’s really uncomfortable actually.

weissroseschnee

This is important, not only for people without Testosterone, but for people with it as well because information is important and I knew none of these things myself.

thewoodbine-deactivated20241020

Hey. Cringe Culture Is Dead.

Let people be happy you toxic goblin fuckers.

guns-n-broses

Friend: Dude wtf why did you put glitter in my coffee I was going to drink that?

Me: aesthetic

skeletoncunts

*furiously scrolling*

Where the fUCK is the glitter coffee picture I KNOW YOURE HERE SOMEWHERE BITCH

4thsun

#EVIL EMO #HOW TRUE

sandersstudies

I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”

rebelminds

I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.

snarling-through-our-smiles

I once lost my keys at a frat house.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch. Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out. I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house. I stood there, right in front of the front door. This was a novel experience for me. I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing.

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back. “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before. Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light. A few of them threw puzzled glances my way. I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing. I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed. I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house. I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like? I’ll put it into the group chat.” He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell. It was worth a shot. “Um, it’s just a ring of keys. The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big. Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out. Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering. It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder. One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob. “Girl! Hey, GIRL!!! We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me. I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old. One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs. I thanked them again profusely. There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.