Charlie and Charlotte

I have delayed the Tumblr girly arc for long enough. Actually. I am Two Spirit. Which I am allowed to be. White people be in awe.

[hemipenal-system]

what doesn’t kill you gives you kinks the internet would cancel you for

[the-haiku-bot]

what doesn’t kill you

gives you kinks the internet

would cancel you for

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[learnelle]

The calm feeling of wandering through an old and empty bookshop ♡

[the-haiku-bot]

The calm feeling of

wandering through an old and

empty bookshop ♡

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[zeldadottxt]

I am feeling quite the dark feminist today. More than most days.

Remember the 2000s when all the cake toppers were ball and chains? Funny how the tables have turned, isn't it.

[zeldadottxt]

I like starlight glimmer. she's my girlfailure idol

[gaylor-moon]

[grippy3000]

fun fact one of the world champions in pepper-eating contests is a trans woman and she actually faced significant backlash because people somehow thought she had a biological advantage. to eating spicy pepper

[grippy3000]

update bc i went back and checked: her name is brianna “the chilli queen” skinner and she set a record in 2017 by slamming back 23 carolina reapers consecutively. she only stopped when told to by the referees, and the next year she stepped down out of boredom. queen

[pettyartist]

Here's a picture of her, by the way

And her super supportive wife

[nentuaby]

The championship, it should be noted, is unisex. Apparently being a trans woman gives you an innate biological advantage over both cis men and cis women.

[vexwerewolf]

The innate biological advantage of being cool as fuck

[zeldadottxt]

Pronouns are a lossy compression format.

I am trying to encode co-present subjectivity, relational activation, and an internal division of labor into a tool with fast reference, minimal ambiguity, and narrative clarity.

[zeldadottxt]

I knew Tumblr would be a good choice.

Here I am, alone.

And nothing comes to me that I do not wish.

And even

If I should wish.

But away from the blue sky

And the butterflies

And the patronage of my fans

I find a quiet garden to tend my words.

My garden is full of flowers and grasses.

In my garden, I have myself.

And I have my plants.

And that is all

I need

[cryptotheism]

[wordslikesilver]

I know I am a woman when I sit there in a room full of men and watch it erupt in a wall of sound and postering and displays of dominance at the gentlest noise. I know I am a woman as I love my beauty and proudly display the gorgeous professional photos taken of me in my fine formal wear to one who has complimented it and said I am gorgeous and the very next day pretends he did no such thing and does everything he can to pretend I am some sort of creep, a predator, a freak who must be hunted and killed by the peers around us. I know I am a woman when I love myself, with all the love men think should belong to them. They think one passing compliment will sway my legs open when I could scrape them off my shoe and then I watch them turn and lie and call me the worst things they can think of because I simply do not care. They have favourite words. Bitch. Faggot. Freak. Pedo. Tranny. It washes off me like the rain. I disagree with them and they think I am attacking them. I disagree with them and they think I am ranting and raging and need to calm down. I am eloquent and firm and they believe that means I am angry. They do not understand anger, like you and I do. Like a woman does. I understand this now. When I am angry, the air begins to sizzle and burn and smoke. When I am angry, I am the sound and I am the fury. And they think that they, these pitiful creatures I have never met before nor cared about the existence of beyond a nebulous “people deserve rights” have seen me angry when I calmly, clearly and firmly assert “No, I think you’re incorrect about that.” It fascinates me how such an alien experience could bore me so utterly.

I understand, through my lived womanhood, that they believe women are angry when they disagree, because there is the deeply rooted belief that women are meek and soft and unchallenging. That sometimes women make themselves that way because it’s simply less exhausting and will make things move along more smoothly if they just ignore it. I understand that women can’t ignore the abuse forever and so, when it finally must come forth, it comes forth with fury unlike any that Hell could hope to muster. A fury that could’ve won the war in heaven. And so it is mythologized in saying and jeered at on the stage. Mocked. Made to sound like if they show it some pity-respect, if they pretend they are calm and “chill” that it washes away what they do to me. Make the monster of the scary bedtime story small and it won’t hurt you.

But I am not small. I was never taught to be small. Not by my parents and not by the world around me. I was a boy once, and boys are taught to be strong and to fight for what they believe in by the patriarchy, by the classroom, by the stories and mythologies of heroes. I do not know how to live and be small. I do not want to know that part of womanhood. That part is something the patriarchy said has to be part of womanhood. It is afraid of me because I lack the leash they hoped I’d put on myself like a good girl. It is afraid of me because of what is absent from me. It is afraid that I have no womb to bleed from in agony and use to dismiss my rage. It is afraid that I grew up as headstrong and righteous as its strongest men and then I tell the truth to the world that I still feel what women feel. I feel what men do to us. Because then the truth is that society cannot tell me what I or any of us should feel. It cannot tell us what women feel. The truth is that I learned womanhood from the way women loved me and the way men hated me; they hated and hated and hated me so deeply there are no words to describe how small and deranged they would become just for a drop of my blood. Women loved me. They listened to me and I listened to them and I loved them back as we embraced and saw that we felt the same terrible rage. We felt the same bittersweet love.

I know I am a woman because as women watched how I was treated, they called me daughter, sister, mother, and they loved me as their own. I know I am a woman because of how womanhood embraced me again and again, like baptism-by-sunrise, like moonlight that pulls on the heart.

I am a woman that is loved and feared, mythologized in praise and hushed, whispered slander, worshipped in black and orange kingdoms then quickly erased from the temple of browsing history. What else could even you call me but divine? I am a woman and it has made me immortal.

[autismgaysparklez-deactivated202]

re-posting bc reblogs got turned off etc

[autophage]

You make soup in a big bowl. You serve it in a smaller bowl. And then you convey it, using a spoon, to your mouth. But what is the spoon? Simply a smaller bowl still

[bibaleen]

[zeldadottxt]

who would've imagined the PDW would have a real place for civilians.

I know who

what's his name...he's the YouTube. in the polycule.

what's his name

he's probably Hop's bottom

BrassFacts!

yeah I have lorr

Boondocks and Brass do not have sex

but they are definitely friends

abd

Hop is a butch lesbian

but like. so comfortable with her sexuakity that shes high key completely fine in her body

it's whatever for Hop

yeah that's my fanfiction

[zeldadottxt]

I do not want Bethany rage to find me. I've only just learned of her and I think I would be cyber bullied into immediate suicide. im not kidding. I really can't handle that.

[colorful-horses]

hats

[zeldadottxt]

both my girlfriend and I are very into cottagecore, but for VERY different reasons.

[zeldadottxt]

I do not have the brainworms (I'm radical left actually), but IT'S SO HOT FOR ME because IT FEELS SO WRONG. Like, jeez, I can't believe I'm gonna say it but it's gotta be the blue haired sjw equivalent of these conservative white men watching Blacked.com

Idk how else to explain but but I know it's wrong and he knows it's wrong but he can also tell I am ENTHUSIASTICALLY CONSENTING to it because grrrrrrrrrl I just need more than the bedroom, okay!!

it does suck about brainworms, though. this should be a kink you develop, not one you're born into

[zeldadottxt]

#tradwife is 100% a kink. I know because it's MY kink.

So, like, when I'm home, I submit to my boyfriend (and girlfriend) because I think it's hot. If I ever felt like they (he specifically) was abusing me, I'd be out, but I am absolutely in control here. This isn't a social thing, for me. It's a free use, submissive trad wife fantasy. I vote blue and kick nazis in the teeth, but I will literally cook him dinner because it's HOT. it's hot, okay! it's not my politics or anything else. literally, it gets me wet and that's what I like about it. doing the laundry is LITERALLY foreplay for me.