#but im probably confusing it for something else

[certifiedsexed]

why do you have to be so annoying about terminology

like when someone says “I’m a woman and (insert question concerning genitalia here),” why do you have to respond like “oh, im not sure what you mean. if you mean to say you have a vulva, (insert answer here)”

i understand not all women have vaginas and all that stuff and it’s cisnormative or whatever but why do you have to act purposefully obtuse about it? you know what they mean.

Well, I'm honestly not trying to be annoying, Anon.

I'm autistic and have studied to be a teacher for awhile, which both means I genuinely cannot tell if someone's being transphobic or just using the wrong word and that I'm not going to let bigotry slide, accidental or not.

An easy way to respond is simply by being clear that I'm not sure which is happening and explaining thoroughly for both possibilities (or sometimes, explaining thoroughly for one possibility and saying I need more information if they mean something else because sometimes I do!), which gives Anon any more specific, accurate language they might've been looking for.

Something some people don't realize about autism is that its largely a communication disability. I am not acting obtuse, though I understand how you jumped to that conclusion: I am genuinely unsure. I don't want to assume people's genitalia and I don't want to accuse people of transphobia/intersexism without knowing that's what's going on.

Maybe its easy for other people to tell but statements like that are confusing to me. Whenever I run into sentences that confuse me, I leave room for doubt and reply the best I can with the information I have. Its a social "script" I use, which eases my anxiety about possibly answering questions completely wrong and hopefully helps people understand I am not maliciously answering wrong if I do.

I'll be honest, unless you have a suggestion for a better way to reply, that's probably what I'm going to stick with. I understand its annoying but I'd rather be annoying than make assumptions and possibly fuck people over.

You're not the first person to tell me the way I talk is annoying and I imagine you won't be the last but I kind of have to work with what I've got, Anon.

If you have any questions or suggestions, though, let me know!

[prosekaiuwu]

What's Toya thinking about today?

Looks very yummy!!

[potatobugz]

is anybody else, like, disappointed about cassandra's introduction in season 3? forgive me if im missing something but in s2 cassandra went by they/them and was written and implied to be nonbinary, only for them to retcon that in the next season.

like dont get me wrong its their character and they can write them however they choose but still... it kinda sucks :(

[worstloki]

people just ignore Thor was a feral child, huh? like his life goal was probably to demolish another race at age 12 and he was probably begging to go to war and attempted to murder their father for not letting him via telepathy that he didn't have.

[masterfuldoodler]

girlbossed too hard.... unless...

[lesbianwithchainsaws]

Does anyone else have this thing where, when you like a thing, you don't want to try something else because what if you start liking new thing more than this current thing? And you don't want to like something more than the current thing because you really like the current thing

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Is there a post explaining the fnaf Lights Out AU lore?

hold on FNAF??? WYM FNAF GET BACK HERE

[lionblaze03-2]

sometimes I think about writing and singing music not because I’m an incredible singer but because no one has my fucking voice, especially in popular music, and its disheartening to be born a girl, told you’ll only get girl roles or try to voice match other girls, or ‘sing with the girls’ and then only be able to match male voices because you’re a fuckin tenor and not anything higher. I can’t think of any girl Broadway roles I can hit all the notes on. Most songs I love I have to pitch down for myself or use falsetto for singing along to. It bothers me a lot less now because I’m an adult who’s more secure in myself but as a teen in kids musical theatre it FUCKED with me, BAD style. And I know for a fact that even now when I hear people with a voice like mine singing I get excited and immediately invested in their work because they’re like ME, finally, for once. A brother in this world of being afab and having the voice of a recently pubescent boy forever. Maybe I should be that brother too.

[inf1nyxw0rlds]

another thing abt me is that i get so embarrassed by the natural process of like... saying something and having someone reply with their own opinion that does alter my own and then i feel 1. like a humiliated moron, and 2. like a hypocrit for changing my stance even though that's literally. a normal thing to do when given information or a point of view you did not have/consider previously

[lumalalu]

man fuck it im gonna start doin wip wednesdays here

Summer is sweet and endless and she has nothing to do but look at me. She's looking at me now, through the sun's glare on her mirror. She shadows the shapes of my mouth, but doesn't put her voice to my words.

My parents are worried about Grace. They think something's wrong with her - I know what it is. Grace knows, too, looking at me, looking through the glare in the mirror. Everything about her is wrong. I could fix her, if she would let me.

Solid, measured knocks. "Gracie?"

"Yeah?" She pulls her braids back to look at her shoulders uncovered. The angle of her jaw. She is trying to see how it matches up to mine.

"Your mother and I are going to go to the mall. Do you want to come?"

I've never been a fan of the sweltering heat of a cracked-asphalt parking lot, nor the chill on my skin in a Macy's. Grace says, "Okay." But she only said that so that she can look away from me. She is a fool. I can be found in anything that can reflect. I watch her in the windows, in silver lockets, in the mirrors she models new boots in. She parades about like a wind-up toy, a ballerina in a music box. Her mother hands her new skirts for the new school year, button-up blouses, low-cut but not whorish, and modest stockings.

The dressing rooms are hidden in the corner, neatly separated by two icons of triangles - one upside and one downside. I follow her to the wrong one, the wrong stall. It's cramped and ill-fitting, somewhat like a body. Grace tries her best to avoid me still. It's a valiant effort, I'll give her that much. But at some point, in a few minutes, maybe, she'll have to turn around and face me.

Grace takes off her tanktop like the accused pushing off concrete slabs. She hisses with impatience at the clasp of her bra and its stubborn claws in her skin, throws it on the bench with more violence than is necessary. Branded into her back it remains, aching, smoking. Cramped and ill-fitting. She itches at it like the fabric is stuck in her, like it still remains subcutaneously and she could pull it away finally, permanently, if she also removed the skin. Her nails are well cared for, and so, won't do the job. I smile at the sound of her bent elbows.

Her pants go too, her keys squeezing free of the claustrophobic pockets and diving with raucous applause to the floor. Her phone is in her purse, because the back pockets are only decorative. Grace doesn't curse. Her words are never ugly. Instead, her lips bend into the shape of: "shit", and then she bends and picks up the keyring. It is unadorned. Why should it be anything else? A key only has one purpose.

For a moment we stand there together, Grace's back to me, my back not quite to hers. She is hesitating, stretching out the moment between one set of clothes and the next. The blouse is slippery and coarse in texture, sends spider legs running over her back. The skirt is of good quality, but takes up in the back, so she is afraid to bend. No pockets.

I ask her if I can see it. She stares at the off-white wall in silence, and then she turns.

"Oh, no, Gracie. That won't do at all." I tell her. "That thing isn't even fit to be a tablecloth. It's see-through, it's itchy on my ribs. It's pushing my skin too close to my bones, the points of my ribs poking at my lungs. It's like a coffin leaking air, sighing its way into the ground." 

Her breath hitches. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She's saying to herself, to the mirror, to me. I make a sound - in my mouth it is sympathetic, but in hers it is animal, pained, cornered.

[caffeinatedopossum]

It's kind of jarring to be reminded that everyone around me has always had more than me (aside from a select few). Like I just forget until it comes down to something mundane like buying shoes and I don't know my shoe size because for most of my life I've had one pair of shoes that I wear until they break. And it was usually something someone either got me as a gift (horrified that my shoes were wearing out. As if thats not what shoes do when you wear them) or they were passed down and I grew into them.

Like that's just normal for me. It doesn't bother me either, this isn't a pity party. It's just surreal that it bothers other people sometimes

[203y]

emesis blue 2fort community map: i want it so bad lmao

[nicholasdwuffwood]

tristamp s2 confirmed AND timeskip p much confirmed ??? if im readin mutos tweet on twt right & timeskip (n tristamp s1 at least being like... kind of a prequel?? Idk what else to call it) is confirmed everything abt s1 will finally make a little more sense to me lmao.

[mysunshine-youremoonlight]

whenever people talk about having love lives or partners i just sit there like 😐👍

[brittlebutch]

need anyone attempting to have a verbal conversation with me to go ahead and brace themselves for a full five minute wait after their opener for me to figure out Anything to say in response <3

[vitamin-zeeth]

I've regained some of my sanity back and for some reason one of the few things I remember clearly about last night is getting utterly fucking transfixed by a little yellow thing with circles in it that you press and it goes p p p p p and everyone said they were really common but I've never seen one before what the fuck