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#but threatening
3knecrotic · 10 months
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Eugh the nausea back boys
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smash-chu · 2 months
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make a cohost account, make a blue skies account, make a pillow fort account, make a artfol account, share your discord, make a back-up account, make another account, make another account, make another account-
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luminixx · 2 months
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“Your mom” gone wrong. Not the right person.
this is lowkey so unserious don't kill me. it's a reference to all that stuff about his mother that I am seeing.
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Since Velvette is a doll I like to think she can do that whenever she wants, and the other Vee's find it horribly creepy
Translation to Val's in spanish prayer (IN THE NAME OF THE SON THE FATHER AND YOUR WHORE MOTHEEEEEEEEER!!!!)
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zmpl · 7 months
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onision is apparently pretending he’s dead. he has (RIP)🎗️ as his name on twitter and wrote a godawful obituary about how he like succumbed to the “lies” spread about him
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kalico-of-doom · 2 months
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Not even Alastor can get away with leaving blood stains on the rug for the third time that week.
Headcanon: Niffty and Rosie are the only ones who can get on Alastor’s case and he’ll actually listen
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assiraphales · 7 months
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manga(&anime)!sanji spent half the panels arguing / being annoyed w luffy and was finally like "ur an idiot. a crazy bastard. gritty af tho. nami will b there? yk i guess i'll join ur dumb crew. see the world n shit" while opla!sanji openly thinks of luffy as his little meow meow
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fernsnailz · 1 year
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team dark in: the mac and cheese incident
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theallegedbird · 14 days
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CONTAIN THIS MAN.
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emyn-arnens · 1 year
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Gosh I just love book Legolas. He's immortal. He's a teenager. Elrond picks him instead of Glorfindel because he's average and won't draw attention to the Fellowship. He's the comic relief guy and resident Little Shit, but he can also shoot a Nazgul out of the sky in the pitch black like a one-man elf anti-aircraft defense system. He wants everyone to know that he's, like, really old. He forgets the task at hand because he wants to look at trees. His greatest qualities are that he can become friends with anyone and his loyalty is unending. He shows up to Valinor a century late with Starbucks in hand and his dwarf bestie at his side. Iconic.
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golswia · 2 months
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THE wall slam scene with my reverse gremlins 🧡
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Do any of you ever wonder if Camp Half-Blood accidentally brought in a demigod of a different pantheon before?
This would be especially hilarious if it happens sometime after The Last Olympian/Heroes of Olympus, where the gods are required to claim their kids quickly.
A whole day passes, and the new demigod needs to sleep in the Hermes Cabin and Percy is furious. Meanwhile, the Greek Gods are pointing at each other and shouting, contacting the most obscure of mini gods. Chaos erupts on Olympus as every deity in Greek Mythology is called upon and interrogated. Hermes hasn't run around so much in centuries.
Hecate sits in silence, fully aware of what's happening, but enjoying the show too much to intervene.
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some-rotten-nest · 9 months
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Danny Fenton, a new receptionist at Wayne Enterprises:
Vicky Vale, knowing Danny Is Not Ready for her: So, where does Bruce Wayne leave for during his meetings? A new woman? Man? Trouble in the family?
Danny "Town Menace Phantom" Fenton, done with Genderbent Wes Weston: To fuck your mom.
Bruce's experienced receptionist that left for 6 seconds: okay, Danny no--
Danny, who knows something's up with the Wayne family: and your Dad, because we support the LGBTQIA community. Thank you and leave.
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bramblebrine-art · 4 months
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seteth told him to only file an incident report for hubert if he STOPS sending death threats. he sends one each week to all the faculty in an exquisite, wax-sealed envelope and the rest usually happen during brawling tutoring.
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azuremist · 2 months
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TME and TMA as intersexist terms: as written by an intersex transfem
I’ve had a few different people in my inbox asking me why I view these terms the way I do. In particular, why I claim it’s intersexist. So, I thought I’d lay out a few examples, so everyone can understand where I’m coming from.
Imagine an intersex woman. She was assigned female at birth by her doctors, and was able to go about her childhood as a woman with no inclination that anything was amiss. Sure, she didn’t experience certain parts of puberty, but puberty was different for everyone, right?
But, later in life, she learns she has Turner syndrome. This is an intersex condition where a woman has only one X chromosome, rather than the usual two.
Soon after she learns this, she finds that laws are being made to attempt to keep trans women out of women’s spaces (often specifically sports) which use chromosomes as a defining factor of womanhood.
Would this intersex person be considered “transmisogyny affected”? She has been raised as a cisgender woman with no problems regarding being ‘clocked’, but she is also a direct target of transmisogynistic laws. She lies in a gray area.
Now, let’s go to another intersex person. Imagine an intersex man with PAIS. AIS is an intersex condition where babies are born with testes and XY chromosomes, but their body is immune to or can’t respond to androgens (which includes testosterone). Intersex people with partial AIS (PAIS) often develop a vulva and clitoris during puberty.
This intersex person identifies as a man, and he was assigned male at birth. However, his body does not produce testosterone, and he went through a feminizing puberty. To the average eye, he appears to be a woman now because of this.
Would this intersex person be considered “transmisogyny affected?” He was assigned male at birth, and now appears to be a woman, much like many transfems. However, if many saw how he looks now, stating that he is a male, they would probably clock him as transmasc. He was raised as a boy until puberty, and then faced astrozcization from his peers when he began a puberty that feminized him. What he was facing was a form of intersexism where transmisogyny was playing a huge part. Does his childhood matter? Can one become TME over time, when they were TMA as a child? Again, he lies in a gray area, where the answer is not quite so simple.
What about the “opposite”, per se — an intersex woman who had a masculinizing puberty? She has aromatase deficiency, which means that many ‘male’ hormones (which would usually be converted to ‘female’ hormones) would remain unconverted. She identifies as a woman, and was identified as a female at birth and was raised, until puberty, as a female. But now, she would be clocked as a trans woman upon looking at her. What does that make her? Is it different from the previous example? How and why? This intersex person also lies in a gray area. How she should be described with these terms is not clear.
And keep in mind, these are all relatively simple examples. All of the examples I listed self-identify as cisgender. But there are intersex people who are trans in any direction you can imagine.
If that last example identified as a trans woman, because she is now clocked as one, would you be able to say she’s wrong for that? What about if she identified as transmasculine, because of her experience with puberty? What if she’s multigender, bigender or genderfluid, and says she’s both transmasc and transfem because of her complicated experiences? Would that make her a TMA transmasculine person? But I thought that transmascs were all TME? That’s how it’s so often framed, anyway.
The reason why these questions are so difficult to answer is because these terms were not made with intersex people in mind. Very real intersex transfems were pushed to the wayside in favor of centering the perisex view of transgenderism. Intersex people are nothing but an inconvenient little afterthought, annoying perisex people with their demand for “inclusion” and “consideration”. (As per usual.)
You cannot simply make a new gender binary and say, “No, really, this time everyone fits into these two categories! Forcing people to confine themselves to these two rigid labels which are shown as opposites, and as never interacting, will definitely include everyone this time!!” No matter what the contents of the new binary is, it’s not going to work, because sex and gender alike are too complicated for that. There will always be people in the gray area.
This isn’t even getting into the fact that these terms, for all intents and purposes, seem to have been popularized by and associated with the Baeddelism movement around 2017, which was essentially “Radical Feminism 2: We’re Trans Women, So It’s Fine!” This movement is known for chronic villainization of trans men and non-binary people who aren’t transfem. (They act like this with cis people too, but noticeably less so than they do with non-transfem trans people. How curious.) Think along the lines of how regular radfems treat all men (and who they deem to be men) as inherently morally disgusting scum who deserve to be attacked.
Methinks that maybe these terms aren’t the neutral, fact-based descriptors of oppression that many people nowadays tout them to be, considering that.
So, yeah. “Transmisogyny exempt” and “transmisogyny affected” as terms: not even once. Listen to intersex people, stop trying to make sex and gender into binaries, and for the love of God, stop drinking the queer seperationist koolaid!
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Protective Simon. For the beautiful and talented @lethalchiralium
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Simon’s phone is ringing. 
Price raises an eyebrow from the end of the table, pausing mid-sentence, confused. Simon’s phone never rings. It’s always on full volume, because he never gets phone calls, except for ones from the 141, and they’re all here. At this briefing.  
His fingers find the ringer, ready to silence what he’s sure is a nuisance call, some telemarketer or robot, when he reads your name across the screen. 
You’ve never called him before. Unease tightens across his chest, and without any explanation, he excuses himself from the room and the bewildered looks being cast his way. 
“Hey, you-“
“Simon?” You sound off. Like you’re trying to be calm, but there’s something lingering on the edge of your voice, something scared. His spine goes stiff. 
It’s enough to propel him into action, his fist thumping against the window of the brief room, jerking his head south. I’m leaving, the motion signifies. Emergency.
“What’s wrong?” 
“N-nothing. Just… there’s this guy that’s been like, half a block behind me since I got off the train.” He closes his eyes. The fucking train. He wants you to stop taking the train. He needs you to stop taking the train. 
“He followed you from the platform?” 
“Well, he could be walking this way too…” 
“Where are you?” His keys are already in his hand, and he’s running down the hallway, past bewildered administrative staff and everyone else, bursting through the back door and into the truck. His phone chimes with multiple text messages, Price, Johnny, Gaz. All wondering where the hell he ran off to. Only Johnny’s text scratches the surface: Is it your neighbor? He waits another second in silence, hoping you’re trying to get your bearings. “Sweetheart?” 
“I’m… I think we’re coming up on seventh and Warsail. ‘m not too sure. I’ve kind been walking in a roundabout way.” We’re coming up on seventh… we. 
The baby is with you. 
His foot slams the accelerator onto the floor, counting his breaths as he maneuvers each turn in the road. Do you have the stroller? Are you carrying her? Did this guy peg you as an easy target because he knows what Simon knows, that women are more likely to go along with instruction if their child is threatened? That you’d never leave Emmaline behind? That you’d do anything to protect her? 
He feels sick. 
“Are there other people around?” He’s calm on the phone, trying to visualize the street, the buildings, the alleys. Easy spots where cars could reach the highway in seconds, and then be gone. Cramped alleys that connect to others like tangled webs, able to swallow a human being easy, disappear them into the darkness. It makes his stomach turn over. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel so hard; it hurts.
“Yeah, it’s close to the end of the day, so-“ 
“Stay where others can see you. Are you sure you’re on seventh and Warsail?” 
“Yeah. We’re in that park. I-I… wanted to take Emma to see the ducks.” Your voice wavers. “Simon he’s still behind us.” He’s turning the corner now, a block from your cross streets, and instead of yielding for oncoming traffic like he should, he floors it through an intersection, abandoning the truck still on, half parked in an empty street spot.  “Stay where you are, sweetheart. Okay? I’m coming.” 
“You… wait, what? You’re what?” He doesn’t hang up, but keeps the phone against his ear, and takes off down the street in a sprint, fully subscribed to the worst-case scenarios that have been building in his mind, images of you and Emmaline bloody and bruised, or worse. He gets them confused for a moment, memories mixing with the present, two things swirling together until they become indistinguishable, noise and panic roaring too loudly in his head. 
It all comes screeching to a stop. 
He spots you in the park. You do have the stroller, and you’re by the little pond, headphones in, Emmaline in your arms, her little beanie pulled down over her ears. You’re glancing around, nervous, saying his name into the mic. He scans the rest of the faces, passing over anyone who doesn’t strike him as a creepy git, until he finds his target: a skinny, younger guy lurking on the edge of the fence line, watching you. He hangs up the phone and moves across the park involuntarily, rolling his shoulders, and he vaguely sees you from the corner of his eye, mouth dropped open in shock, faintly calling his name. 
“Hey, mate. C’mere.” He shouts, half the people in the vicinity startling in his direction. Everyone seems to move away, like a magnetic force, pulsing outwards as he overtakes the guy with an easy grab to his upper arm. “You like stalking women with babies?” He hisses in his ear, voice low with barely contained rage. The guy is younger than him, but rail thin, and coked out. Probably looking for money. Simon jerks him closer, and he actually yells for help, like he’s a victim. It’s enough to ground the situation, making Simon realize he has an audience, and he grits out a final warning before shoving him away. “I ever see you around my girls again… I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Piss off.” 
“What did he say?” You’re frantic, rubbing Emmaline’s back in a circular pattern, over and over like you’re trying to calm her, even though she’s perfectly content. It’s you who needs soothing, he realizes, and he takes your hand without questioning it, letting his instincts guide him in regard to you without overthinking it. 
“He was high, love. Looking for money.” He doesn’t want to scare you but… he doesn’t despise the idea of instilling some hypervigilance. Maybe this will convince you not to take the train. 
“Oh my god.” 
“Think I scared him off for good though.” He looks around, and then slips off his mask, wide thumb stroking a soft touch on Emma’s cheek before giving you a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright now.” You visibly relax, but don’t let go of his hand, tilting your face up to his, all bright and beautiful, still coming down from the adrenaline of your fear with a whisper on your lips, meant for only him to hear. 
“Our hero.”
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