Thank you..and the cookie is great.
Also please let your mapa know my apologies.
And does that mean i can admire them in silence🙂
#i am sorry its fun to rile up kids😅
Yes but if I see you near my mapa being creepy i’m gonna do max damage on you. Cause i’ve got a sword and an army of older siblings. One tear from me and your world is down in the dumps.
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'I flirted with the idea that instead of being trans that I was just a cross-dresser (a quirk, I thought, that could be quietly folded into an otherwise average life) and that my dysphoria was sexual in nature, and sexual only. And if my feelings were only sexual, then, I wondered, perhaps I wasn’t actually trans.
I had read about a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen, by a Northwestern University professor who believed that transwomen who were attracted to women were really confused fetishists, they wanted to be women to satisfy an autogynephilia. And though I first read about this book in the context of its debunkment and disparagement, I thought about the electricity of slipping on those tights, zipping up those boots, and a stream of guilt followed. Maybe this professor was right, and maybe I was only a fetishist. Not trans, just a misguided boy.
About a year later, on the Internet, I come across a transwoman who added a unique message to the crowd refuting this professor. Oh, I wish I remember who this woman was, and I wish even more that I could do better than paraphrase her, but I remember her saying something like this: “Well, of course I feel sexy putting on women’s clothing and having a woman’s body. If you feel comfortable in your body for the first time, won’t that probably mean it’ll be the first time you feel comfortable, too, with delighting in your body as a sexual thing?”'
-Casey Plett, Consciousness
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Someone I otherwise respect a lot just posted this and I’m feeling so hurt right now. Trans women aren’t the only ones being forcibly misgendered by Florida’s policies. The case that was won was even literally about a trans man, Tyler Copeland, who was being horribly harassed with feminine terms and jokes about his transmasculinity. To erase us from this narrative and act as though this only or even primarily affects trans women is just further marginalizing us within our own community. She’s a journalist and will likely write a whole article on it, so I left a comment and am holding out hope she will be more open about how it affects us in the future. It wasn’t intentional harm, I’m sure she just didn’t think about us — but that’s the whole issue. It illustrates how normalized it is to fixate on trans women and leave out other trans folks, both inside and outside the trans community.
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pluvi begging you to expand on gojo not wanting what happened to his mother to happen to you 🙏
warnings: it’s all a dream so nothing is real aside from the flashback stuff but pregnancy as horror, (sewing) needles, implied gore/eye trauma, implied child harm, gojo is messed up yo!!! and its bc of his mama!!!
he dreams about her.
it’s an odd thing, really. gojo isn’t much of a dreamer—not much of a sleeper, all things considered, but it’s difficult not to give in when you drag him to bed and curl up in his arms. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the steady thump of your heart, the sound of your breath; it soothes him into slumber.
and he dreams about her. she was always young. he’s older now than she ever got to be. frail, thin; borderline skeletal, robes hanging from her body like webbing. she sits in a chair facing a window, swathed in moonlight, the silver of her embroidery needle glinting with each stab. her face is veiled. her stomach is swollen with child.
she doesn’t turn to him, but she beckons without noise. his feet take him easily to her, and he kneels at her side as she sets aside the embroidery hoop to let him place his head on her knees.
her hand is cold as it threads through his hair. it’s gentle, at first. then harsher a moment later. she grips firm, tugs him up by those electric white threads, stares down at him through all that elaborate lace.
he imagines she’s weeping beneath it. his mother never wept before him, but she was pretty in the aftermath, eyes puffy and pink and shining. they were a cold kind of loving when they regarded him. she must have been beautiful once, elegant and lithe and willowy, cruel like the heartless sea and sharp like a brilliant diamond, but whatever was there is long gone. he thinks all sons must empty their mothers, bleed them dry from within, because his was always a shell.
she trails her hand down the side of his face, and he turns into the palm and closes his eyes, and she is silent as she sets down her embroidery to lift her veil. she is silent and hollow and eidolic as her fingers brush down his jaw and tilt his head up to look at her.
but it’s your face that he sees when he opens his eyes.
it’s your hand against his cheek, your eyes pink and puffy and pretty, your stomach bulging by his own doing. it’s your fingers that pluck up the needle, still attached to a thread of brilliant cerulean, and raise it to his eye.
his mother never was able to pierce him with that needle. she stopped herself, each and every time, dropping it and tugging him close in shame. she never doted, never was kind, but she never did manage to harm him.
you do. he lets you. it’s only fair. whatever thing is in your stomach can’t be human—whether god or demon what does it matter, at the end of the day—and didn’t he put it in you himself? if his mother never got the satisfaction of spilling his blood, shouldn’t you?
but he wakes just as the tip pierces his iris, and you hold him in your lap, eyes wide with concern and not puffy from weeping, and you hold no child within you. your hands thread through his hair and they’re warm, your lips plush when you bend to press a kiss to his brow.
he turns inward to press his face into your (empty, blissfully vacant) abdomen. the wetness he leaves there, falling from his so very coveted eyes, is colorless.
he thinks it ought to be brilliant crimson.
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having now seen the sea beast and some reactions to it: i think it is actually very important and meaningful that the story didn’t have maisie become like a sea monster biologist! i think it’s really important that they decided to simply stop interacting with the creatures at all and leave the deeper waters to them. i think people forget or aren’t aware of the ways science and scientific pursuit has propped up or been used as a justification for imperialism and expansionism and colonialism. it’s not a neutral profession or goal. of course for us, the audience, it would have been really fun and cool and interesting to learn more about the creatures and maybe even see humans bonding with them, but that’s really not in line with the message of the movie and it’s honestly refreshing that they went that route.
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I'm so tired of people treating Kieran like he's manipulating the player or whatever like HE'S A CHILD!!! Also I'm tired of people saying people who don't like how Carmine treated him just hate low empathy people and women like. She gets better! I love the other parts of her character! But you can't deny that she infantilizes Kieran and blames his genuine distress from being wronged on "teen angst" as well as the obvious "at least I didn't hit him" line. You can't deny that her mistreatment of him is what leads him astray. She has every right to be angry and abrasive to tourists, but the way she takes it out on her brother obviously harmed him.
No, Kieran doesn't see Ogerpon as an object - he just clings to those who he believes understand him and wants to feel like he belongs. He's not evil. He's a mentally struggling young teen who clings to any semblance of acceptance in his life and believes he was wronged by the person he trusted.
No, people are not ableist or misogynistic for saying Carmine's actions were harmful and caused emotional pain. No, comparing her hate to the likes of how fans treated Nemona is not fair. Yes they're wrong for narrowing her down to a one-dimensional abuser who can never be redeemed. But it's okay to acknowledge that she's hurting her brother. She's not evil for it. She's a mentally struggling teen/young adult whose struggles seep into how she treats the people she cares about.
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