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Took me a long time to realize, but the main reason Jayce's speech to Viktor didn't resonate with me, that it felt so hollow is because it's not the message I needed.
I don't know about other disabled people, or even specifically chronically ill folks... but for me, I haven't needed "you're beautiful/there's nothing wrong with you" regardless of how nice it would be to hear.
The message I feel is so sorely lacking from this media and things like it is "you're worth it." Viktor was suffering, in pain, dealing with the grief of death in so many ways. It wasn't about having something "wrong" with him; these things were objectively hurting him and it's normal/valid to feel negative about them. Specifically anger, which is so often suppressed because it's considered an unpalatable part of grief.
It takes a lot to care about someone with circumstances like that. You have to deal with the concepts of death, pain, uncertainty. You have to see your loved one suffer. They'll snap sometimes, behave emotionally, regardless of how much they control their feelings. Viktor pushed back a good bit, like in the bridge scene.
I never wanted to be told there's nothing bad about my disabilities. I wanted to know that if the bad bled over, I'd still be worth it.
Man, we have got to stop treating art like it has an expiration date. That show stopped airing? Doesn’t mean it can’t haunt your every waking thought. Everybody’s into this album, but you don’t have the energy for new music right now? It’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready. That movie’s fifty years old and indie as shit? Incredible, you have the chance to share it with folks who might never otherwise feel that particular punch of delight. Books don’t go bad. Shows inspire fandoms decades after they’ve wrapped up. We’re still looking at cave paintings and statue work from ancient times and letting the joy of creation bring tears to our eyes. That’s the point of art. It’s as close to immortality as we ever get. Why try to give that magic a shelf life?
Okay, for anyone interested in the science here, I have a few clarifications.
First, early fossils of land plants date to around 433 million years ago, during the Silurian period, not to the Precambrian (defined as before around 540 million years ago).
Second, Tiktaalik was not the first land animal; it is known for being the earliest/one of the earliest vertebrates to walk on land, but arthropods got there first. Early centipedes and millipedes ventured out of the water relatively soon after the plants (around 425 million years ago, also during the Silurian), while Tiktaalik evolved around 375 million years ago, during the Devonian period.
can you imagine plants on land in the precambrian like aw fuck yeah fish cant even eat us anymore this owns and then tictilak shows up
In regards of the Trump government scraping all trans inclusion in its queer information portion of its websites I have made this thing. Spread the word. Don't let them pretend we never existed.
P.S: Don't like! Reblog! <3
A cute guy likes me on a dating app. After chatting with them for weeks, we decide to go on a date. They are very flirtatious and forward over the app, but not when we meet in person. He admits he thought I was transmasc like him, we laugh about it because his mistake is funny and means I'm not passing but in a silly backwards way. I think his sudden awkwardness in person may be nervousness and flirt with him in ways less forward and aggressive than he'd been flirting with me earlier, and they become cold and distant for the rest of the date. By the time I get home they've blocked me on the app we met on. This case of being mistaken as a transmasc on a dating app will happen 3 more times, and in 2/3 times it results in a similar sudden lack of interest where once they were coming on to me. None of these people will be cis.
I am in a self defense class for queer people, learning hand to hand combat as a community. I have been here months. I notice I'm the only transfem in the classes but there are other trans people there so I don't think much of it. Today I have some stubble as I did not have time to shave before the early morning class. When discussing unrealistic action movie and anime fight scenes I describe on of my favorites, quoting the lines as I pantomime the goofy moves. They smile and laugh along until the word bitch leaves my lips in one quote, then the bisexual woman who only ever they/thems me glares at me like I've committed a grevious crime, and the rest of the class looks at me like a freak in awkward silence for a moment before moving on. I learn bitch is not a word a clocky bitch can "reclaim". I am quiet in classes now, and when I go I focus primarily on the training, when I see other trans women try it out they often give me a sad look and do not return for a second class. I get a sinking feeling that if I ever use this training to save my life one day I'd be branded a violent man instead of a strong woman.
I am texting with a good friend of years who was one of the people who helped me realize I was trans like them and even the one who helped pick out my name loves talking about our shared interests and sharing their favorite smut with me. We bond over favorite stories, artists, characters, and kinks as well as our trans experience. Yet they constantly tell me they could never date someone who's AMAB because of the trauma of being "female socialized" and their genital preferences for vulvas. Every compliment they have ever given me on my appearance or outfit is followed up by "but in a non-sexual way, I could never date you". Today I finally have the courage tell them they don't need to say that every time. They ignore this response. We keep talking for awhile, but they start taking months to respond to my messages and respond with a short sentence at most. They no longer share details about their life and shut me out when I ask or share details about mine, even the most mundane and chaste details. I stop talking to them. A birthday gift I bought them months before this falling out happened looms at me in my closet. I cannot use it as it doesn't fit me but can't bring myself to throw it away, just in case we reconcile one day. I feel pathetic for craving friendship with someone who sees me as "abuser-bodied", that so much of my early stages would've been impossible without their help. I feel a little more lost without them.
I am at a queer/trans/enby kink dance party with some friends. I am scantily clad and wearing a skirt and high heeled boots. I do not pass well so this space is one of the few places I feel safe and free dressing like this. It is packed with queer and trans people just like me engaged in delightful debauchery and wearing very little. The music hurts my ears but I'm happy to be here, I feel overstimulated but alive and authentic. I am approached by a beautiful stranger from across the dance floor, she is graceful and stylish, like some modern Galadriel clad in leather, white lace, and industrial piercings with impeccable voice training. She compliments my outfit, I compliment hers. She tells me I need to shave my armpits if I want to look like a real woman. My two friends stand up for me and yell at her. They assure me she was just being an asshole, that women were supposed to be hairy, but I can't help but notice how both of them have hairy armpits and yet the "advice" targeted me. The wide range of bodies that people here tonight find desirable on cis women don't seem to apply to the women like me. I am the only one of us that doesn't go home with a hookup at the end of the night. I realize now she likely spoke from experience. I am still hurt by her words, but realizing the kinds of experiences she must have had herself to feel her words were kind advice hurts far worse.
A local queer photographer who's work I follow is looking for women & non-binary models for a photoshoot. I have become comfortable with getting photos taken of me for the first time in my life since my egg cracked, and had a few small time modeling gigs under my belt. With something like this I could actually have the beginnings of a portfolio. I reach and am told that they are not looking for trans women models, "only women and AFABs". Getting the same line I get from agencies from an independent queer photographer repackaged in "woke" terminology stings. I see many queer and nonbinary models I looked up to take part in the shoot. I have to wonder if they knew that the photographer's definition of woman didn't include trans women, or if like me in my martial arts class they noticed no transfems were there but didn't think much of it because there were other trans people there.
It is years ago and I am still an egg. I am with my partner of 4 years. I am exhausted after a long day. She asks me for sex in the voice that I know means saying no will hurt her. I learned from her long ago men have high and insatiable sex drives, therefore saying no meant I wanted to have sex, just not with her. So I say yes. The sex is painful and unsatisfying, and I simply do my best to thrust through the discomfort until she cums. I feel numb and hurt. She enjoys herself but seems sad I did not cum. I assure her I love her. When we hold eachother after my obligation has been met and I finally feel comfortable and safe. We begin talking. She talks about the trashy women she saw on the street today, describing their cringe outfits and ugly styles and bad hair. All the styles and clothes and hair I yearn to try myself in my deepest and most repressed desires. I change the subject and ask her about work and family. She asks if I'd still love her if she were a man and I say yes. She says she would still love me if I were a woman. Something in that statement feels like a lie. It is months later when we break up and I move out. Now that I am a woman I look back and know from our years together that if I were a woman then she'd hate the kind of woman I'd become. That if I were a woman she'd still have the same expectations of me as a man, that her refusal of sex equated an impersonal not being in the mood but my refusal of sex equated a cruel refusal of love.
A lesbian group begins organizing a queer woman's strip night event. A safe place for amateur performers to shine and women to perform and enjoy sexuality away from the male gaze. I see no transfems in the promotional material or leadership team, and I've learned not to think nothing of it just because there are other trans people there. I do not go.
I am talking with my therapist. They are trans too and an amazing therapist, often providing insights and advice only someone else with the lived experience of being trans can. I express distress and suicidal ideation at the fact I feel like I need to pass before I can dress the way I want. That until I get expensive hair removal procedures and FFS I can never feel safe and welcome presenting authentically. I lament how these things are expensive and may never be accessible to me. They tell me I need to deal with my "internalized transphobia", as if these feelings aren't a result of constant rejection and othering by external forces even within queer spaces. As if the scrap of womanhood others sometimes acknowledge in me does not rely on their perceptions of me.
There is a publication accepting works from trans people of all stripes to document trans experiences. It gets flamed for not having a single transfem as a contributor. The people behind it apologize profusely, they say didn't notice no transfems had sent work in and would do a sequel publication that was transfem-centric. I wonder if anyone had noticed there were no transfems but didn't think much of it because there were other trans people there. I think about the kinds of spaces I've seen like that, and the implications it has about how they treat transfems, and I am unsurprised no transfems submitted.
One of my closest friends for years is very supportive of me when I first begin crossdressing and experimenting with they/them pronouns. She gives me suggestions on cute clothes to wear and takes me shopping as well as asks for pictures. We had helped eachother discover we were both queer as young teens, come to terms with it, and navigate it in a hostile environment, so I have complete trust. We are close enough we are frequently asking eachother advice on serious life choices & relationships, sending nudes for critique + tips before sending them to our partners, and sharing our most secret and vulnerable moments. She often asks me for tips on getting her straight boyfriends into pegging and crossdressing that make me slightly uncomfortable but I don't mind, she is a loyal friend I would endure a great many discomforts for. I host a lunch for us one day, and come out to her as a trans woman. I tell her my new name, say I no longer use he/him pronouns, and thank her for her support on my journey thus far. She launches into a monologue about how by changing my name I am throwing away all our memories together and spitting in the face of my family. Taken aback by her sudden heel turn after being so supportive of me being nonbinary and GNC, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom to get a break and give her some time to process. When I am in the bathroom trying not to cry, she is on the phone. I overhear her misgendering me as she is talking about me being bisexual in a frightened voice. She sounds truly afraid that I intend to be sexually violent towards her. When I leave the bathroom and sit back down I pretend not to have heard. She gets off the phone, saying she was just chatting with her boyfriend. We talk a bit longer, she explains how "the surgery" is dangerous and experimental and she hopes I won't get it. I assure her I won't and do my best to change the subject and hope she comes around after some time to process things, hurt and shocked that what I saw as a natural shift in the path I was already on marked me as frightening in her eyes after knowing eachother for over a decade. That a fellow bisexual suddenly saw my bisexuality as dangerous now that I was asserting myself as a trans woman. I say goodbye to her, and she says goodbye to me using my deadname, I do not risk an argument to correct her. It is months after the meeting we have not seen eachother since and she has not responded to any messages I sent. After reflecting on her reaction further I decide that I don't really want to spend time with someone who thinks these things about me for my own safety and mental health, regardless of our history. A friend of 14 years who supported my queerness and transness gone the instant I crossed an intangible woman-shaped line that marked me as a predator and invader in her eyes.
I log online and day after day see trans women getting banned and harassed. Seeing baseless callout posts calling them groomers and abusers getting taken seriously by other queer and trans people. Seeing proof that deep down so many people I consider kindred spirits see me and people like me as worthy of intense scrutiny and policing to keep "the queer community" safe and united. The blocklist grows but everything stays the same. I treasure the people in my life who don't take part in this and would do anything for them, but it seems they get fewer each time.
I'm not making this post to seek sympathy, I am used to this kind of shit and far worse has happened to myself and others. I just make this to illustrate transmisogyny is not some "online-only" issue like people claim. Even if online issues weren't "real" (as healed is fond of saying, "online is real") this has tangible effects in the way trans women are treated offline as well. By communities, friends, partners, colleagues, systems, etc. That's why we talk about it.
So much of the discussions people have paint transmisogyny as some online oppression olympics maliciously trying to divide the community, smear transmascs, and "reinvent bioessentialism". That is not what it is about. Discussions about transmisogyny is about how we are treated for being what we are, and while related to transphobia and misogyny it is seperate because it often represents doors other trans people and women can walk through that transfems cannot. It has affected me in my most intimate moments when I was with other trans and queer people I felt safe around, and taught me that I need to carefully manage my persona and presentation at all times lest my authenticity be branded "male socialization". I am even terrified to express attraction to people who express attraction towards me because I'm so used to being treated like a predator upon reciprocating or being used and abandoned by people I trusted. I am terrified to be too excited about shared interests with friends lest I be too loud or talkative about it and branded with aggressive male socialization. So I make myself quiet and small, and shrink from the community and people I care about, and become more and more isolated.
Anyways, stop platforming anons who spread lies about trans women, stop hopping on TERF harassment campaigns because the trans gal they're smearing "gave you bad vibes", and maybe consider carefully if in your own life where you draw the line for a transfem's behavior is any different from where you'd draw the line for anyone who's not one.
USA people! Buy NOTHING Feb 28 2025. Not anything. 24 hours. No spending. Buy the day before or after but nothing. NOTHING. February 28 2025. Not gas. Not milk. Not something on a gaming app. Not a penny spent. (Only option in a crisis is local small mom and pop. Nothing. Else.) Promise me. Commit. 1 day. 1 day to scare the shit out of them that they don't get to follow the bullshit executive orders. They don't get to be cowards. If they do, it costs. It costs.
Then, if you can join me for Phase 2. March 7 2025 thtough March 14 2025? No Amazon. None. 1 week. No orders. Not a single item. Not one ebook. Nothing. 1 week. Just 1.
If you live outside the USA boycott US products on February 28 2025 and stand in solidarity with us and also join us for the week of no Amazon.
Are you with me?
Spread the word.
In my next life I will be reborn as #plural stuff.
This is the kind of thing I love about tumblr.
What is the itsy bitsy spider if not sisyphus's fursona?
My dad has bees. Today, I went to his house and he showed me all the honey he had gotten from the hives. He took the lid off a 5-gallon bucket full of honey and on top of the honey there were 3 little bees, struggling. They were covered in sticky honey and drowning. I asked him if we could help them and he said he was sure they wouldn't survive. Casualties of honey collection I suppose.
I asked him again if we could at least get them out and kill them quickly, after all he was the one who taught me to put a suffering animal (or bug) out of its misery. He finally conceded and scooped the bees out of the bucket. He put them in an empty Chobani yogurt container and put the plastic container outside.
Because he had disrupted the hive with the earlier honey collection, there were bees flying all over outside.
We put the 3 little bees in the container on a bench and left them to their fate. My dad called me out a little while later to show me what was happening. These three little bees were surrounded by all their sisters (all of the bees are females) and they were cleaning the sticky nearly dead bees, helping them to get all of the honey off of their bodies. We came back a short time later and there was only one little bee left in the container. She was still being tended to by her sisters.
When it was time for me to leave, we checked one last time and all three of the bees had been cleaned off enough to fly away and the container was empty.
Those three little bees lived because they were surrounded by family and friends who would not give up on them, family and friends who refused to let them drown in their own stickiness and resolved to help until the last little bee could be set free.
Bee Sisters. Bee Peers. Bee Teammates.
We could all learn a thing or two from these bees.
Bee kind always.
Random worldbuilding idea: a culture where everyone is a goth, but for perfectly sensible environmental ressons.
Wearing mainly/almost exclusively black clothing because either the dye protects them/the fabric from something in the environment, black clothes are the most convenient ones to maintain, or then a century ago black dye was extremely difficult and/or expensive to produce and only the wealthiest of society could afford it, but now a cheaper dye method has been invented and after a huge trend of Now Everybody Can Wear Black, it just stuck and nobody even remembers why all clothes are dyed black. It's just tradition.
Everyone wears demonia-style platform shoes because the climate is wet and cold, and for most of the year the ground is either muddy or covered in icy slush, so knee-high tall boots are simply the most pragmatic way to keep the rest of your clothes reasonably dry and clean.
Silver and leather jewellery is widespread because the land is rich in metal ore - while the rich can afford to buy/commission delicate silver threads, even the peasants can afford some sort of rough iron chains and studs on their wristbands. Studded leather is more sensible than having metal rings touching skin directly, due to the cold weather. Studs and chains also double as armour and weapons which technically speaking don't count as such, allowing people to circumvent any "can't openly carry weapons during peace time"-laws. Law enforcement could not confiscate someone's bling without causing public riots.
Everyone is about as pale as their natural complexion allows since the climate is cold and dark and the sun does not rise much during the winter. Cold dark winters are also the reason why the culture is so morbid in general - in the heart of the darkest months there's fuck all else to do than write poetry about the moon's silver light and the howls of wolves and the beauty of death, while polishing your iron chains until they shine like silver.
Domesticated ravens are more covenient for messenger birds than doves are, as they're hardier and can manage the climate better. Even if more modern messaging technology has been invented, people prefer sending letters by bird because it's more romantic and poetic. Sending someone a raven message poem about how you'd like to be buried in the same grave together one day is a very standard way of flirting.
I, uh, might do that… except I’d probably worry too much about the welfare of the bugs.
Me walking around with a “Free Bugs” T-shirt and when people ask I point out all the little guys around them and tell them which ones are introduced species that they can totally just grab off the street and keep as pets
walking around with a “Free Bugs” tshirt and cargo pants with a lot of very full pockets that are visibly writhing
This is why I eat honey as a vegan: not because I don’t value insects as animals, but because it is generally not produced through cruelty. In general, the bees can leave if they’re being mistreated. I have no problem enjoying the fruits of their labor, because they’re getting something out of it (a sheltered hive, defense and support from human beekeepers, et cetera) and they can leave. It’s not “eating/using something that comes from an animal” that’s the problem, it’s harming or mistreating the animal to get it that I take issue with.
vegans make peace with honey
no shut up do it
Italian, German, Swedish, Polish, Hungarian and English and I only really know my ancestry up to my great-grandparents 🤷 Sadly the only one I currently speak fluently is English, growing up “white” in the US… I heard somewhere that being considered white in the USA often means giving up aspects of one’s culture and heritage in order to fit in, and knowing that so much never got passed down in the generations between my great-grandparents and me makes me really feel like there’s some truth to that.
Reblog with what languages.
I read this and couldn’t help but think of my mad scientist OC Dr. Kaye, who is very much a Type 1 (cold, calculating, emotionally detached) but has the recklessness of a Type 3 (rat bastard drenched in glowing mystery liquid with a shit eating grin). And she used to be anxious and paranoid… and still gets accused of being paranoid sometimes, because she has no friends and a lot of enemies and has decided it’s entirely rational to carry a gun and know how to use it. She’s a terrible person in general, but she gets a semi-redemption arc and she’s my little meow meow ❤️
I love mad scientists who have more academic knowledge than common sense (because I relate) (this is probably all mad scientists, kinda in the definition).
i love how many different mad scientist archetypes there are. we have like
- cold, calculating, really good at what they do, emotionally detached
- “dear GOD what did i just create”, paranoid, little meow meow
- bastard, rat, would find them drenched in glowing mystery liquid with a shit eating grin on their face, maniac cackling every time something is silly
and of course we have the mix why wouldnt we
glad that im not popular enough to have an evil shadow version of my blog that exists just to make contradictions on my posts
SORRY FOR THE VERY PERSONAL COMIC!!
This is my half of “Unhealthy”, an essay comic double header with the lovely and talented Sarah Winifred Searle. She and I both wrote about our personal experiences as overweight ladies with eating disorders, and her story is breathtaking! You can buy a physical copy of the book here: https://topatoco.com/collections/abby-howard/products/ah-unhealthy
Or buy a digital PDF here: https://abbyhoward.itch.io/unhealthy
With their tiny buggy feet.
I want #hemiptera to stomp on me.
Lol
Guess I got a little too into entomology
#hemiptera and Other Things That Ruined My Life: An Autobiography by spectruminterests
I regret to inform you I’m #actually autistic trash.
character who accidentally gets cloned, but instead of the Evil Twin trope or arguing over who is “real” or trying to murder each other (why???) they just…get on with their lives. they acknowledge that they are two virtually identical people with the equal right to exist, and decide to share their social group & living space. eventually their parents & friends get used to the idea of having unusually identical twins around
🐛 caterpillar - the returning champion of the 2023 race at 41.6% of the votes
🐌 snail - runner up of the 2023 race at 38.3%, only 3.3% behind the caterpillar.
🪱 worm - placed last in 2023, with only 20.1% of votes
🪲 beetle, 🐞 ladybug, and 🐝 bee are new competitors!
These cool characters by @cozylittleartblog caught my eye lol. Check them out if you want :)
val is kind of a freak
@ship-bracket FYI: I have more about my OCs here! (I did not post more because of pressure so much as this helped me overcome the feeling of “but it’s cringe”)
S9 Round 1*
More than foils
cw: soulless character, identity confusion
They’re narrative foils, they’re alternate selves, and they’re intergenerational BFFs. A lost her soul long ago in an attempt to stop being overly emotional, and is now cold and heartless, having convinced herself that she’s better off without her irrational emotions. A is logical, efficient, and solitary, having lost her need for connection and the joy she used to find in life. Then she meets an adolescent version of herself, B, whose soul and emotions are intact, and has to reconsider everything. In some ways the two are polar opposites, yet in others they’re exactly alike. B is lively, caring, fun-loving, and always overreacting. Both of them are brilliant yet reckless, searching for new knowledge without regard for safety or sanity.
B tries to steer A towards morally better choices, knowing that she’s the only one A will listen to, and she grows to admire A despite her flaws, eventually coming to love her like family. A has become selfish and uncaring towards others, but to her, B is not “others,” but the soulful, complete version of herself. A considers herself no longer capable of love, but B becomes everything to her, valued above even her own life. They form a sort of symbiotic relationship, with A acting as a mentor, guardian, and voice of reason to B, and B acting as A’s heart and soul and conscience. In many ways, they catalyze each other’s character development… but they also enable each other’s craziness.
Birdsong
cw: murder mention
She's a woman who exists beyond normal boundaries of time & space, who's somehow both a ghost and the reincarnation of her own great-uncle. He's the detective investigating her murder, and was somehow destined to help her long before he ever knew she existed. They've never met while alive, but they both can't stop haunting each other all the same.
The detective and the ghost keep circling each other throughout time loops and dreams, where both of them seem eternally trapped in the same series of rooms. The woman might be trying to guide the detective to the right path, or she might be a vengeful corrupted soul keeping him stuck forever. The detective might be stumbling closer to a way for both of them to escape, with the ghost ascending past her current status -- or he might somehow be her murderer, thanks to the time loop they've both entered. Neither of them seem to have the answers yet, but there is the lingering possibility that the only way for them to move past their current state is to become a part of the very environment they can't leave.
*Ship does not have to be romantic.
Wasps are great! Some social wasps can not only recognize individuals of their own species, they can recognize humans as well and “befriend” people!
I’ve had positive experiences with the yellowjackets that live around campus at my school- my school is full of insect lovers who are pretty chill about them, and I think they recognize that at least some of the humans around them are friendly, as they’ll often land on me or share a bite of my lunch, but have never stung me or been aggressive, and I haven’t heard anyone talk about them stinging people.
There are also lots of cool wasps outside of yellowjackets and hornets, many of which cannot sting. Some of them are ridiculously tiny- the smallest insect in the world is a type of fairy wasp smaller than some single-called parameciums and amoebas. (Wikipedia article here if you’re interested.) Wasps are incredibly diverse and beautiful, and we needn’t fear and loathe them because a few of them might sting.
[Image description from alt text: A photo of a small brown wasp pollinating a dandelion. Only part of the dandelion flower is visible, because it dwarfs the wasp in size. The wasp has faint, light stripes on its abdomen, bent antennae, and purplish eyes.]
I saw this posted on reddit to a wholesome memes sub, and it was full of nothing but people being unnecessarily awful on a post trying to spread information about why these creatures are beautiful and worthy of living. (Interesting note: They don't need a reason to be allowed to live.) I got sick of trying to correct people on there who were more interested in hating wasps than hearing the truth.
Honestly, it's just exhausting sometimes.
Source: @shencomix - Thanks for helping to spread the word, buddy.
NO ANTI-WASP SENTIMENTS ON THIS POST
Demons and monsters that torture people because they feed on human suffering are so dumb. People are suffering everywhere my guy go literally any place and take a deep whiff.