#dumbass posts

[squintern-supremacy]

do u ever think abt how sweets tried to publish his Booth/Brennan fanfiction cuz I do 

[communistkenobi]

can we like go back to basics for a second lol. every mainstream news outlet, public figure, elected official, social media influencer, religious leader, and civil society organisation pushing transphobic policy and rhetoric always focus on trans women. literally every single one of them. even when trans men are brought up it is primarily in relation to trans women “tricking girls” into transitioning.

& I am speaking specifically as a trans guy who has been harassed on the street + outted and intimidated by Nazis on campus + lost entire friend groups + kicked out by my parents because I’m trans. like this is literally not a competition about who is “oppressed more” it is a basic fact. I am reminded always that whenever transphobia is voiced in public (which is often and only becoming more frequent) I am either not the target of hatred or I am being used as a rhetorical tool to further advance transmisogyny. fundamentally if you don’t acknowledge this extremely basic point about institutional transphobia then you are actively attempting to obfuscate reality

[iplay37]

me when when when i uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ill haave a uhhhhhhh cheseburger thanks

[queeraliensposts]

Transfem oppression: yeah the other day this jealous cis girl told me I have an obvious adam's apple and that I'll never be a real woman and now I wanna die because I'm not pretty like the other girls!!!

Transmasc oppression: yeah the other day this guy that had a crush on me in high school found out I transitioned and now he keeps texting me begging me to detransition for him, and he somehow found out where I live and where I work, and he keeps sending me rape threats. Also yesterday I went to the men's restroom and I almost got raped but thankfully my friend walked in before anything happened. Thank god nothing happened especially because if I got pregnant I'd get no treatment cause I already changed the gender marker on my birth certificate.

See how stupid that was? See how when I talked about "transfem oppression" I cherry picked a specific issue that mostly affects white binary trans women, completely overlooking the experiences of trans women of color and non-binary transfems. See how this post willfully ignores the very real violence that happens to transfems? See how this doesn't help transmascs at all and only undermines transfems. See how this implies that cis men only target transmascs, and that cis women are incapable of violence?

Wow it's almost as if we don't have to gaslight one group and undermind their experiences in order to talk about the experiences of the other... Funny that.

[wardengrill]

hotch only knew 5 minutes of peace in his entire life and it was when morgan and reid were stuck in that elevator (x)

[chrisrin]

all my behind-the-scenes concept work and such for the HGCZ! i had a blast working on it all.

check out my finished piece here, and check out @hotguycomiczine for the full zine!

[metronn]

thank u @dreamdripdistance for making possible the funniest iteration of post-top surgery pics (it's a temporary tattoo)

[ID: two photos of a shirtless white person with top surgery scars. over its chest is a temporary tattoo reading "this content has been removed for violating tumblr's community guidelines". in the first photo, the person is doing peace signs with both hands. in the second, it is giving a thumbs up to the camera.]

[ironinkpen]

i still can't get over the sheer AUDACITY of iroh going to ba sing se. like did it work? yes. but ONLY because the dai li was too busy following around some bald kid looking for his dog to notice him

[saewokhrisz]

the kiss

happy 11/20 everyone

[dickandballsdotgov]

I love you he/him lesbians

I love you she/her gays

I love you "weird kids" with split dyed black and pink hair and they/it/bun in their bio

I love you boys in skirts and dresses and corsets who are still cis

I love you trans girls who love their masculine features and don't change how masculine or feminine they present

I love you trans boys who still love being feminine and hope you land the best suckerpunch on anyone who says "but isn't that just being a girl"

I love you gays who kiss their boyfriends and girlfriends and partners and joyfriends and all kinds of significant others in the hallways to flaunt that they're not straight

I love you people who wear flags and rainbows to shove your gayness or transness in people's faces

I love you straight guys who love makeup but can't wear it around your friends

I love you people who coin obscure genders and use only neo/xenopronouns(seriously y'all are so cool and I wish i could design flags half as cool as yours)

I love you all aromantic/asexual people

I love you all the people that the lgbtq+ community chooses to outcast to appease the world which would destroy us all

I hate you lgbtq+ community members who choose to attack those who are on your team in an effort to seem "normal"

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Part 2/2

By the time Stanley had realized he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be entrapped in this ravenous abyss; he had honestly begun to suspect that he was finally starting to properly lose his mind.

In all the ceaseless miles that Stanley had journeyed during his apparent permanent residence within the dark devouring void, not once had he encountered another conscious, walking, talking being similar to himself. Every other formerly living creature that he had crossed paths with had been so... silent. Empty. Dead, in every sense of the word. It was as though the very essence of life itself had been sucked out of their bodies with a straw, their forms slowly falling apart piece by piece under the vicious gluttony of the darkness that surrounded them. They looked like they actually were supposed to be there, unmoving and comatose, unlike him.

So, when Stanley first began to encounter the twins, all of a sudden, he wasn't the only one in the dark.

When meeting the first pair of them, he found himself standing in a lake.

He hadn't even noticed the changes at first. It felt as though he had been walking for weeks on end, his body moving purely on autopilot and his aching legs leading him towards a destination only it knew. A thick fog of forgetfulness and flickering memories had descended upon his brain like a heavy blanket of numbing static as he had traveled. In this absentminded state, he hadn't even realized that the ever-present undulating, buzzing darkness surrounding him had begun to gradually shift and morph to form a horizon line; stretching into tall looming cliffsides that almost seemed to close in on him. Once the nonexistent floor beneath his soles abruptly began to ripple and warp, like the disturbed surface of a shallow puddle; only then did he finally notice his transformed environment.

The transition was seamless, almost dream-like. One moment, he was still surrounded by that filthy, overwhelming abyss; and the next, his boots were suddenly plunged deep into the cold, dark lake water.

The silence didn't leave, however. It still choked and stuffed its way into Stanley's ears to clog up his mind with thick cotton; the eerie quiet not quite matching the calm, almost serene scenery the void seemed to have abruptly transformed itself into. Like a movie with its sound cut off; leaving only the unsettling hum of the projector to fill the empty air.

It was odd. The lake was surely incredibly deep. He could obviously tell from how thin and pathetically small the shores appeared all the way from where he now unceremoniously stood in the middle of the lake. Stan could look down and see the darkness below his feet swallow what meager light that managed to break through the murky waters. The overwhelming black almost seemed to beckon him, gaping and haunting; a bottomless underwater pit of pitch black that never seemed to end.

And yet, he didn't sink. Stanley remained perfectly level, the almost ink like waters stopping just at ankle level, as though he were held up just above the surface by some invisible force. Even the writhing waves seemed small and low, as though the waters were shy to climb up his legs further than that. It was odd, so very odd.

However, it wasn't nowhere near as odd as the sight that greeted him when he finally lifted his eyes from the waters.

Stanley had crossed paths with truly unbelievable sights in this strange somewhere; from bursting, collapsing stars; to the imploding heat death of entire universes, but none of them seemed to hold the candle to what he saw then when he lifted his eyes:

Children.

Two, to be exact. Two, nearly identical looking children stood motionless before him; completely soaked through to the bone as though they had taken a plunge into the frigid water that pooled around their ankles. It was a girl and a boy, both adorned with twin expressions utterly devoid of emotion, their wide eyed stare seeming to burn holes into his thin jacket. Their drenched clothes sagged off of their scrawny frames; thin rivulets of water dirpping off of them and disturbing the glassy surface of the water at their feet. The little girl's hair had messily stuck to her face in thin sodden strands, her cheeks still full and round with youth just like the boy's. They looked young. Too young to be in a place such as this.

Oh, but their eyes; their eyes.

They burned with such anger; such injustice, brighter than any dying star or galaxies he had ever seen. Anger towards the world, to fate, to whatever cruel deity that had deemed them fit to be sent to this wretched place so prematurely. They were too young to be here; to be entrapped like he was amongst this hungry darkness. And yet, here they were, sheer denial against their own untimely deaths being the only thing keeping them awake and conscious amongst the dead and rotting. A show of juvenile defiance to nature itself so vehement even the all-consumign darkness seemed hesitant to devour them whole just yet.

It saddened him. It saddened him to know that they belonged there, that they were supposed to be there. He could see it, he could feel it; they were dead. No amount of determination could deny that universal fact.

When they spoke, Stanley could hear anger:

Stan chuckled in a futile attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush him whole. "A lake monster? You kids and your imagination," he teased, hoping to somehow rid the poor kids of the haunted look that seemed to whirl in their glares. No child should have been burdened with such a knowing look; such eyes that looked like they had seen everything there was to see about the world, the horrid and the good.

Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say, and Stanley's faux pas was rewarded with a scowl from the little boy. A world's worth of sour contempt etched into every contorted groove that his grimace seemed to dig into his much too young face. Stan suddenly felt guilt squeeze at his weary bones for having caused that.

"That's what they all said," the boy spat out, eyes shining with a sheen of wetness Stan wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with.

Stan left that first interaction with the twins with the feeling of guilt and sorrow still clining to him.

He couldn't have known, at the time. He couldn't have known that this wouldn't be anywhere near the last time that he would meet the pair. He hadn't realised just how many of them there were. After that first pair, his endless journeying within the Abyss was hardly be spent alone anymore. Countless more times, he came face to face with the exact same two young and impossibly worn faces; forced to meet one pair of beaten and bruised kids after another.

Not one pair had died the same death as another. Some had gotten lost, prey to whatever threat that had snatched them up out in the open; some had fallen from high up; some had been crushed under an incredible weight; some had burned; some eaten alive; some zombified. Some didn't even seem physically harmed at all, body perfectly intact, and yet that same faraway, distrubed look in their eyes remained.

He thought the worst ones were the ones he found alone. A little girl or a little boy, left all lonesome without their other half there. Twins, he remembered a pair of them telling him once.

Once, he had come across a town full of silent, stone statues. It was a rustic, shabby, almost nostalgic looking town- odd and strangely familiar. The sight of it had tugged at an aged memory that had long since wasted away in the back of his mind. It was serene, almost deceptively so. The sun shone; the air smelled crisp and fresh; numerous waterfalls continued to crash down from the tall cliffsides; and a soft nonexistent breeze whistled through the thicket of pine trees that blanketed the outskirts of the town. None of it seemed to match the gruesome scene of the hundred wailing statues that littered every inch of the town.

He had found the boy's statue on the other side of town, deep within the green forest and toppled over the gnarled roots of a towering tree. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he too, was frozen mid-shriek; his stone face twisted and contorted into a mock impression of a silent scream as his body lay paused in a writhing struggle. He made sure to be gentle when he carried the boy's statue over to place it beside the girl's, whose statue stood far deeper into the forest, sporting the same rictus grimace of terror as her brother's. It somehow felt wrong for them to have been so far apart from one another, even in death.

He had come to dread meeting of the twins. He hated every second he had to confront yet another pair of dead children that did not belong here, but fate had decided they did. He despised having to listen to their tales of woe as they wept about the injustice of the world, of having died young; he despised himself for being unable to do more than weep with them.

"We don't belong here, Grunkle Stan," he would listen to the little girl weep, calling him a title he didn't recognize. He never remembered if they had ever told him their name, but they all seem to know his, without a fail. "If we're dead, then what about you? What about Grunkle Ford? Mom? Dad? What about them? We can't be dead, we can't be," they would say, confusion and frustration written all over their faces. They didn't understand. They didn't understand why they had come to the darkness so early, so unfairly.

He never knew what to say, he'd never been good with words.

All he could do was kneel down to their levels and engulf them in his arms, hoping he could somehow squeeze the pain straight out of their bodies in his embrace. He hugged them, because what else could he do?

[squintern-supremacy]

are u normal or is Zack ur favorite character on bones

[sodamnbored]

Jason: Hey come on, you’re definitely gonna get into college, no doubt.

Percy, sighing: I hope so. It’s just…sometimes I just feel like the biggest fuck up in the world, you know?

Jason, hand on his shoulder comfortingly: If only you could see yourself through my eyes.

Percy: *looking at him expectantly*

Jason: You’d be amazed at how blurry you are.

[t4tails]

[wistfulwatcher]

[chrliekclly]

trans frank before pride month ends