#gender affirming even
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ramenheim · 2 years ago
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Oh hey!! That explains why I got rushed in so quickly that last time; my endometriosis had conglommed onto the right fallopian tube & mimicked these symptoms. :0
When I was 17 my appendix ruptured because I thought I was just having period cramps and didn’t go to the hospital so don’t tell me PMS symptoms are no big deal
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hoofpeet · 7 months ago
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Someone on the jacob sheep Lamb post from a while ago suggested Lamb getting a pair of horns for each Bishop they kill and I absorbed it into my worldview immediately... forgot to draw and post this tho
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killjoygerardx · 2 months ago
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Sick of cis people, and even some trans people, mocking and judging trans folk for not passing. For "not even trying" to pass.
Passing is not achievable for so many people. It's also not even a goal for many people.
Me telling you I'm a man should be enough to get me treated like one. Yes I have a high voice. Yes I have hips. Yes I wear makeup and have long hair.
But why does it matter? Why does it deem me not worthy of the respect to have my correct pronouns used?
I had top surgery to feel more comfortable in my own skin. So I could end the constant pain and discomfort of binding.
I want to go on T to be more comfortable in my own skin.
I don't live to serve or fulfill the unrealistic expectations of bigots.
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offkilterkeys · 8 months ago
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The world isn’t ready for my alpha kid readings.
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darknesspervades · 7 months ago
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I LOVE BEING TRANS!!! I LOVE SEEING THE WORLD IN ITS SPECTRUM OF COLOUR AND BEING FREE TO EXPRESS MYSELF HOWEVER I WANT!!! I LOVE THAT I CAN EXPLORE MASCULINITY AND FEMININITY FREE OF RESTRICTIONS!!!!! I LOVE THAT I'M PART OF SUCH AN ACCEPTING COMMUNITY!!!! I LOVE BEING TRANSGENDER!!!!
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mars-ipan · 4 months ago
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y’know i was talking about genderfluidity and trying to find a way to make my body as satisfying as possible for me with my mom and i mentioned not wanting top surgery but instead wanting to get tattoos of the scars and she worried about it coming off as offensive to other trans folks or people who’ve had mastectomies. SO i figured i’d ask the people of these communities myself!
*a realistic tattoo would be designed to look as accurate to actual scars as possible, whereas a stylized tattoo would be more cartoony- think the “eyelash/starburst” scars you see in a lot of transmasc art
reblogging for sample size would help me out a ton with gauging community opinions and such but obvi there’s no pressure :] just looking to know how ppl feel! thanks in advance folks
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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 11 months ago
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it/its pronouns are so beautiful?
[I've seen some well meaning people be like "I don't use it/its pronouns because I don't want to degrade that person or objectify 'them'" but king that's misgendering mate it's the opposite of respecting that person. I used to feel worried when I used those pronouns for people too coz of all the associations with it, I mean I still used it, but I was worried about the objectifying]
BUT for a long while now ive been realising how beautiful those pronouns are.
"it" isn't degrading
My god, look at that human over there. It's so cute! Holy shit it saw me I hope it likes me I want to be friends. It's coming toward me! It smiled at me! I'm so happy.
Look at that person over there. It's very smart and it doesnt like loud noises so it wears headphones all the time to cancel out the noises. It's not very sociable, and thats okay! It'll be happy if I give it a cup of coffee though. Maybe one day I'll be brave enough to go up to it and hand it a cappuccino though it's a stranger.
Look at that girl there. It is a girl and it uses it/its pronouns, and it wishes people would respect that. People uses to objectify it all the time for being a girl. Then people would blame it for objectifying itself. But it has now reclaimed its identity, and it knows that it is a human being and it is also an object and idea, in other words, the girl is whatever it wants to be. It is "it" the same way a beautiful storm is just before it hits, a wave is when it crashes into the shore, an animal is when it burrows out of the ground to sniff at the air. And that is how the girl views itself, and it's not a bad thing to change because of things that have happened to it.
See that old man there? It's tired and it would like to see the beach one day before it dies. It took a while for it to understand all these new pronouns, and when it heard of it/its, something clicked and it just knew that it had finally found out its identity after all these decades. It's looking forward to telling its partner in heaven.
pronouns aren't always the same as gender, and they aren't always different. So many different people and identities and stories.
It/its is beautiful.
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clowningcrows · 2 months ago
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im literally gnawing on the bars of my enclosure all i can fucking think about lately is getting on testosterone
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t4transsexual · 1 year ago
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im getting my uterus removed march 8th which means i will be a terfs definition of a man before they remember women/"women" without uteruses exist
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kibutsulove · 8 months ago
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I give what was promised
You’ve heard of trans zuko, and trans azula, but now get ready for the transgenderification of their shitty father
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hibernating-disaster · 9 months ago
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my gender is gender confusion. not that *i* am confused by my gender, but that being confused about my gender is the desired effect. “what is your gender?” correct. +100 points. no notes.
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hiemaldesirae · 5 months ago
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The Hazbin Graduate’s Guide to Homicide (3)
HAZBIN'S MIDSEMESTER STUDENT REPORT Student: Vox Vanhal Supervising Staff: Professor Enoch Leviathan Sponsor: Not Applicable To the Board: Vox Vanhal may be one of the most brilliant students this school has seen in decades. In all my years of teaching at Hazbin, I have never met a student more insanely ready to learn and apply their skills- due in part, of course, to said student's own possible insanity. I mean this in a jovial way, of course, but I will admit that when young Vanhal's true identity was revealed to me that my first thought was along the lines of 'is this student insane?' Whether or not my student's reason should be called into question is something myself and my fellow professor Asmodeus have discussed in length, but there is one thing that we can definitively agree on: If there is any one student in this school who I would choose to place my bets on, it would be Vox Vanhal. There is nothing more to say at this time of report evaluation. Sincerely, Professor Leviathan.
May God's blessings be with you now and at the hour of our deaths, Amen.
[ 1 ] / [ 2 ] (<- read these first for context and more murder academy radiostatic content!)
Though Alastor may have thought that Vox was much more knowledgable in how Hazbin's Institution for Homicide worked, the truth was, Vox was still fully flying on the seat of his own coattails.
He had no damn clue what he was doing still, and although it'd been two weeks since he'd arrived, part of him still felt like how he did when he'd first arrived: hesitant, scared, not knowing where to go or what to do besides the want to make his boss suffer as he killed him.
That level of animosity might sound strange to anyone not a Hazbin student or alumnus, but it was perfectly normal for any student enrolled in the academy to have such feelings. After all, there was quite a rigorous process involved in the application, and for Vox, this application process (and what led to it) was perhaps more intense than most.
There had once been a time where Vox had dreamed of becoming a Hollywood starlet, one who lit up the silver screen and was blessed by hundreds of thousands of cheering, dedicated fans who would fawn over his every move and action. He'd wanted to follow in his mother's footsteps, at one point. But after taking on his first roles in Carmine Studios, the glamour of Hollywood had shattered like fine glass.
"Miss Vesper! Would you please look over here for a second?"
"Miss Vesper, when is your next movie coming out?!"
"Miss Vesper, is it true that you and your co-star on Anna Karenina, Valentino Vega had an affair-?"
"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! That- fucking bastard!" Vox rushed into the privacy of his and Val's shared apartment, slamming the door behind him as he collapsed into the couch, head cradled in his hands. He couldn't even begin to start detailing the number of ways he'd wanted to fucking butcher and rip apart his boss.
Andrealphus Goetia was no stranger to the spotlight, naturally. One of Hollywood's top directors, the man had been an influential cornerstone in the history of movie-making, a real legend to light the days. But behind that picturesque platinum reputation laid a monstrous piece of shit.
It had been a complete accident that Andrealphus had found out about Vox's identity.
Vox himself hadn't even really planned out what to do about himself at that point, only that he'd known that the dresses he wore on screen were far more suited to his best friend than they were for him. Knew that the copious amounts of makeup flattened on him everyday made him feel more like a clown than a princess, that it was the most uncomfortable feeling to have to sit and play the pretty face for the audience's sake.
But he persisted, telling himself, one more year, one more year til my savings account has enough to supply Val and I with a comfortable life and we can leave.
But of course- of course Andrealphus had to ruin it for him.
The man had found out and immediately proceeded to blackmailing Vox with the information, holding things such as promotions, media gossip and rumors over his head. And now... now... Vox stared down at the script he held clutched in his hand, his knuckles turning white as he grasped it with an iron grip.
"Dieser verdammte bastard," Vox muttered under his breath.
Though he'd never loved the spotlight that came with his first taste of fame, he had loved acting. Had loved being adored for his skill, applauded for the emotions that he could evoke in crowds of people and the way he could twist people's hearts. He had wanted to be one of the best, a household name.
And now, he stared down at the script for a movie that Andrealphus knew would tank his reputation. It was absolute bullshit. The plot was held together by thin strings and a bit of glue, despite being an adaptation of one of the past decade's best selling books. Not only that, but the moment he left the safety of the apartment once more, he would also have to contend with the rumors that were steadily piling against him and dragging his loved ones and friends into it too.
All this, because Vox had refused to sleep with his shitty boss.
He could still hear the fucker's voice- come on, don't you wanna say that you got a piece of me? I'll even leave out the part about you being a transvestite, darling, just the fact that I got a piece of you is enough.
God. If only.... if only he could see that bastard's face when he crushed his fucking skull in between his hands. He wanted to see Andrealphus' stupid face contort in revulsion and terror when Vox finally did the deed, wanted to bathe in the the fotze's inbred blood. He'd do anything for the chance to just kill that piece of shit-
"Amorcito?"
Val's voice makes Vox jump on the spot, quickly shifting to hide the script from view. His friend comes around the corner, eyebrows furrowed with concern, and it's this that makes Vox break his composure, a single tear falling down his face as Val frowns, taking a seat next to him on the couch. "Voxxy, amor... tell me what's wrong."
And because he can never keep his mouth shut when it comes to his best friend, Vox tells him everything. Val nods along, pauses at the right moments, all of that stuff that friends do when they're trying to let you know that they'd rip apart your shitty boss if not for the law.
But- and perhaps this is something that Vox knew deep down to be true anyway- Val was a bit different in that aspect. He'd met the man under... less than legal circumstances, after all, and he knew that Val was the heir to quite the illustrous cartel career.
So when Valentino stops him with a firm hand on the shoulder and hands him an application paper for Hazbin, telling him to think it through, Vox barely takes even a second glance at it before filling it out.
Now, two months later and sitting in the auditorium of Hazbin's famed Music Hall, Vox doesn't find himself regretting the decision. Sure, it's a bit lonely without Val's supporting presence by his side, but the students he's met so far have proved to be some of the friendliest people he's had the pleasure of knowing: ironic, considering the kind of school they're studying at. And he's even managed to make a friend! Not that bad a start, altogether.
Vox absentmindedly doodles on the edge of his notes as Professor Leviathan's soothing voice lectures them on the importance of a proper alibi. "If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, but it has an airtight alibi, it is...?"
"Not a duck," the auditorium echoes back to the professor, who nods, looking satisfied with the class's response. "So, then! The first step to alibi making is...? Miss Velvette, perhaps you'd like to answer this one for us?"
The girl sitting beside Vox shoots up in her seat, looking as if she'd just fallen asleep and was awoken by the professor's question. "Uh... the..."
After a moment of silence and stuttering, Vox takes pity on the girl, sliding Velvette over a slide of paper that she squints at before reading. "Make sure you're in a different place from the crime?"
"And how would I do that?"
"I... uh. Use an accomplice...?" Velvette stutters.
Professor Leviathan shakes his head, looking disappointed. "Not quite. One thing you will have to learn at Hazbin's is that you should never rely on any other person to carry your deed out for you. No hiring accomplices- after all, paid personnel's loyalty is shaky and they have no honor code preventing them from taking you to the police- and absolutely no committing crimes as lovers, unless you can guarantee that neither of you will be snitching. Would anyone else like to take a try?"
Vox raises his hand hesitantly. "Move the crime scene or otherwise obscure the culprit?"
Professor Leviathan snaps his fingers, "Yes! Absolutely. One of the best ways to make yourself an iron clad alibi is, if the pope is shot in the church at midnight, make sure that you are seen halfway across town in the bar at midnight; so drunk that you cannot even leave until your wife comes to pick you up at two- and no one will suspect you, even if he was actually killed right outside the pub and moved to the church instead. By moving the crime scene, you can make yourself an ironclad alibi. Obscuring the identity of the perpetrator and making it someone who couldn't possibly be you also works splendidly. After all, if the police believe the murderer to be a six foot tall adult man, then the actual perpetrator, a four foot tall young woman, would be able to pass by completely unnoticed. Thank you for that input, Vox. Now, onto the actual creation of such an alibi..."
When class ends, Vox is the first to leave his seat and head for the door, intending on leaving and getting to Track with Professor Satan as quick as possible when someone stops him in his tracks with a firm grip on his shoulder.
"Hey. Vox Vanhal, right?"
"That would be me, yes," Vox turns to face the person he's talking to, only to be met with the young woman that Professor Leviathan had called out in class earlier. "You were... Velvette?"
"Yep, that's me," the chipper young woman responds. "Listen, I know you don't know me at all, but I really need to get through this school year. Like- look, okay, I'm in a little bit over my head right now. I still want to go here and do what everyone here does, of course, I'd love to just go and plunge a damn butcher's knife into my cunt of an ex-friend's neck, but... well, you saw how I did back in class- look, what I'm trying to get at is I need someone to help me. And you're like, Leviathan's star student. So- I don't care what I have to do, I'll-"
Vox holds up a hand to stop her.
"I don't need you to do anything for me, unless you've got any tips on how to kill my boss and make him suffer during it. But I'll help you with whatever you need to study during your courses. Just..." He pauses, taking a moment to think out what he's about to ask. "Could you teach me how you did your makeup on your own?"
Velvette blinks, clearly not expecting that response. She laughs, a shrill, sharp bark and grabs his hand to shake it firmly. "Yeah, 'course I can. So, do we have a deal?"
"We do," Vox smiles. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
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flashhwing · 1 month ago
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hair salons don't want you to know this but you can buy a pair of hair cutting scissors and cut your own hair. you can just do that
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mychlapci · 2 months ago
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same mirror, 6-7 years apart
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conop-8888 · 25 days ago
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dealing with the concurrent transgender feelings of "FUCK you I shall brand whatever name and gender is comfortable to me" vs "oh god am I making my life more difficult every step I take towards deviancy with this world's outdated bureaucratic systems"
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cosmiado · 11 months ago
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oakworhy are sooooooo t4t trans guys to me im sorry but i cannot stay silent any longer. just think about it. Normal finding out Hermie wears his binder onstage & during musical numbers and being SHOCKED and UPSET and shows him the wonderful world of trans tape. Hermie as a little kid getting obsessed with and "method acting" as fictional boys to the point where he was insisting on getting he/himmed, and then finding a fictional girl he wanted to act as and but realizing that he still wanted to be a boy. Normal getting really into the idea of being a cheerleader and being absolutely thrilled to realize that boys are allowed to be cheerleaders too. transfem Sparrow having long talks about gender with her son and helping him come into his own, even if she's worried that he'll be made fun of for it. that one @apricior fic where Hermie helps Normal with his t shot. do you see my vision
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