#l slur -

[daughrly]

LES(BO)FREAK｡ ෆ

A Gender Under The GenderFreak System Related To Being A Lesbo／Someone Who Can Reclaim The Slur And A Freak，This Gender Is Only To Be Used By Those Who Can Reclaim The Slur && Are Lesbian． Coined By Me ((Inspired By @dwllie))

[gardendoggy]

lesbodyke !

a gender related to the reclaimed slurs lesbo and dyke! one may be feel lesbo and/or dyke IS their gender!

obviously can only be used by those who can and wish to reclaim lesbo and dyke!

-dyke flag template by @monsieur-eldritch

[batmanshole]

society if ppl understood that lapp + lappland are slurs for saami people...

[dread-knight]

“How is Warren so gay but also homophobic”. He isn’t gay he’s just a run of the mill cishet dudebro. Warren would be like “oh I’m cool with gay people but don’t hit on me that’s weird”. Warren would be like “I’m not homophobic I think lesbians are so hot”. Warren would be like this megamind gif I had a hard time finding. 👇 You get me?

[littlegrnghoul]

Ok now do a silly one :P

[applestorms]

almost made a joke earlier that light yagami would pull the “ackshully i’m neurodivergent and also a minor,” card if he had access to current-day internet but had to stop myself because. he would not fucking say that. light yagami would never fucking admit to being neurodivergent. he just can’t do it. he Can’t.

current day AU where light’s school starts running a program to discuss mental health. light listens to all the lectures about the different types of mental illness and goes “damn. that’s so unfortunate for everyone who has to deal with that, i can’t even imagine 😔😔” and everyone claps but then later when they start playing the obligatory “DONT KYS LOOK AT THIS CRYING FAMILY THEY MISS THEIR KID SO MUCH PLS DONT KILL YOURSELF” video he has to excuse himself to cry hysterically in the bathroom for approximately 7.2 minutes before patching up his concealer and sitting back down like nothing is wrong.

[mechanicalinfection]

He has me at gun point.

[eclecticelectriceccentric]

lesbo

YOU SHOULDN'T SAY THE L SLUR OR THE D SLUR IF YOU'RE NOT A LESBIAN???????

bro ive got something crazy to tell you

[iliothermia]

dont mean this in any disrespectful way when you posted that i did go through your account and saw you had posted about gaza back in oct 13, i think in the current climate where so many zionist weaponize anti-semitism to silence people trying to stop the genocide i was also worried when you posted that and had seen no posts about palestine on your twt i did go down farther and saw that that was not the case and its just not easily apparent i do feel like you are aware of this though and it feels a little exploitative to post that knowing people would be sensitive to the language you used and your lack of public sentiment around palestine and unfollow you thinking you were a zionist i dont think your a zionist but your immediate outrage at people unfollowing you for that post is ignoring the context in which your posting in. please remember people are dying before our eyes everyday from people who use the language of anti-semitism to fuel that death i implore that you act with compassion towards people and not bad intentions

(for reference to others, this is about this post I then shared on my twitter as well.) Me commenting about people unfollowing me for sharing support for my community is not outrage, it's an observation on how I can't support fellow Jews without it being connected to Zionism. I said a very positive message to support others who have been dealing with things IN DIASPORA like I have and get messages like yours and this.

It is not exploitative for me to express love for MY COMMUNITY (NOT ISRAEL) after experiencing multiple actually antisemitic incidents IRL recently and saying the words I needed to hear for others. I need to hear that people care. My synagogue got bomb threats and I've been called a kike and harassed in real life multiple times. I didn't even post about most of the stuff I've dealt with to be sensitive to others and the online environment lately. Yet here I am being called exploitative and that I should be more sensitive to others for supporting my community. I have never once called anyone on here or anywhere else an antisemite or weaponized antisemitism so please don't project on me.

[banzack]

happy pride month

[entomolog-t]

Finding Strength- Chapter 2

Nearly A WHOLE YEAR after the first chapter WE ARE BACK !!

Meet Rose, a varsity athlete who should needs to pay more attention to the concussion safety protocols. Also Grayson (you'll see a lot more of him eventually)

- - - -

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Word count: 2160

CW: Adult language

Rose smiles. She smiles as the sweat beads that slick her brow drip into her eyes. She smiles as her limbs grow heavy, arms burning and near useless. She even, to the displeasure of her teammate, smiles as she drills. Her grin an ever present, and rather unnerving, fixture on her face as the duo works their way through their umpteenth repetition of speed drills. 

Through gritted teeth Grayson Wilder manages to hiss out a quick knock-it-off before being met her forehead ramming square into his gut as she shoots yet another blast double. As her she makes contact, Grayson is swiftly reminded why pre practice Mcdonalds was a terrible idea. 

Who even drills blast doubles during speed drills anyways? 

As Rose plows through the take down, Grayson uses the brunt of his mental fortitude to curse their coach for having dared to suggest that doing some extra drilling with Rose would be light go’s for him- that, and to keep his meal firmly where it belonged. 

Grayson lands with a grunt, and Rose takes the time to give him a sympathetic look before the two hustle back to standing, only to repeat the whole process again.

And again.

And again.

And- 

The sound of the score clock's buzzer could have been a choir of angels to either athlete at this point. Sweaty, drained and sore, Rose sighs- not from fatigue, but instead satisfaction. There was a buzzing in her arms, shaky and electric with that telltale combination of adrenaline and exertion. Speed drills objectively sucked. Getting stuck with one of the 90 kilo men for a partner sucked even more. But losing her shot to go to Nationals last season has sucked the most. This season would be great- even if that meant she would have to favor the monotony of drilling rather than the excitement of scrimmage.

Think big. Rose grins, testing the sound of her new little mantra in her head. First early birds, then provincials then-

“Rose!”

Her thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a shout from her coach. Hank Miller beckons her over, a cheeky smile on his face as she jogs towards him.

“Another double and Grayson looked about ready to turn Green… son.”

Rose wishes she has the self control to groan, but instead, she laughs. 

“Think he’s McLovin it?”

“He’ll be McLoving his sauna suit, that's for sure.” Hank shakes his head. With sigh he hands her a packet. Though as Rose grabs it, Hank doesn't let go. Eyebrows raised expectantly, his smile is replaced by a more stern expression. 

“Filled out by Monday, got it?” 

Rose rolls her eyes, but Hank’s grip remains firm.

“Don't lose it.” 

In a feat of self control that could rival that of monks, Rose resists the urge to inform Hank that it's not impossible to print another copy. Though in fairness, with his downright cretaceous tech literacy, there were good odds that for him, it may in fact be impossible.

“Yes, Mom.”  Finally, he relinquishes the thick stack of redundancy forms. With the packet in tow, Rose makes a B-line for her water bottle. Quick drink, stretches… maybe some footspeed drills? The thought of managing to get her legs to move with the growing weight of fatigue and lactic acid setting in was far from appealing, and there was also the weight of impending assignment deadlines to consider…

It should be a felony to have assignments due the first week of the school year...

With a groan, Rose downs her water as she meanders back on the mat to start her stretches, the cool water an oasis in the mugginess of the wrestling room. Though, the coolness of the water does nothing to hide the red hot glare she can feel burning a hole into the back of her head. A quick glance behind her reveals Hank, with a frustratingly smug pair of raised eyebrows as he casts a nod toward her packet; left abandoned on the sidelines.

With all the subtlety of an air horn at a funeral, Rose makes a show of bringing the oh-so-precious forms to her bag, grin smeared across her face as she plays up her exasperation. She can hear Hank laughing behind her, along with another “Monday” for good measure. 

Looking over her shoulder Rose makes sure to shoot him a glare of her own as she shoves the papers into the front pocket of her-

A scream.

Head on a swivel, Rose's eyes immediately lock onto the source-  a strained yelp escaping her as the sight sends her sprawling back. Her mind races, fumbling as it strains to make sense of what she was almost certain could not have been in her bag. 

“...You good?” Hank’s voice feels like a lifeline back to reality, reeling Rose in from her shock. 

“Uhh y-yeah, no. I'm good.” She lies,  “Just, uh, papercut.”

Rose didn’t move. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she had been breathing. She was frozen- feeling as if even a blink would dispel the almost certainly not real reality that stared back at her.

There's…. There's a man- A very small man- in my bag.

Rose swallows nervously. Had she hit her head and not realized? Grayson had made her eat mat on at least one failed attempt at a leg shot… Could concussions cause hallucinations? 

There's a tiny man in my bag.

They definitely could, right? Rose couldn’t help but notice the irony that she couldn’t remember the stupid Safe Sport Concussion Awareness presentation. What was more concerning?  Hallucinations from a grade 2 concussion, or finding a tiny man in her bag?

Rose blinked.

There's still a tiny man in my bag.

In a far away reality, she hears the muffled voice of Hank asking if she's sure she's alright. 

Rose hurriedly gathers up her bag at his approach.

“I’m good. Totally good. I… I uh… gotta go.”

_   _   _

Those few stuttered words were all the warning Tamius had before he was flung backwards as the bag was torn from the ground. 

A plan- he needed a plan. Anything- 

Instead, Tamius was met by sheer chaos. His word topples over itself, rising and falling and sending him careening into the wall of fabric. A horrible realization dawns on him.

She’s running. 

Dread seemed to be the only thing anchoring him to reality as Tamius remained a victim to gravity’s indecisiveness. 

He’d been caught. 

That behemoth idiot had fucking caught him- Tamius grit his teeth.

No. Not yet. 

White knuckled, Tamuis clung to the fabric of the bag. His eyes desperately scanning in the low light for the hole he’d cut.  If he could make it back into the larger compartment he could buy himself some time taking cover in her clothes- there’d be an opportunity for escape. He was sure there would be. He’d make one.

In a mix of determination and desperation, Tamius fights against the rhythmic lurching, an awful feeling of vertigo boring down on him as his hands scramble for new grips, something- anything- to pull him closer to that fucking hole. 

A lock clicked. 

The sound slicing through him-  an executioner's bell condemning him to his fate.  

No, no, no- not yet! 

The stillness that followed was truly terrifying, a contagious beast freezing him, and time itself, in place. Reality itself seemed to hold a change, like the feeling before a storm- his muscles tense, and hair standing on its end, as if current was running through him. It was an electric sort of dread- a missed step, an object about to fall, the moment before impact- 

No.

The impact came in the form of five grotesquely large fingers diving into the pocket, looking far more like a Hellish mass of writhing limbs than the hands he was familiar with.

Every ounce of his being screamed- all thoughts coalescing to one;

Get to the rip.

In that moment, Tamius was not a man. He was not a being of higher intelligence. In that moment he felt no soul, no empathy, no love. He was a desperate animal scrambling towards a corner. There was no safety waiting for him just beyond the rip. All that waited behind the fabric were a few extra tortured seconds of delusion. A few painful moments where he could pretend he could reason his way out of this and avoid the reality barreling down on him in the form of five gruesome fingers. 

Though reality, it seemed, had other plans.

That gargantuan fucking idiot. 

The fingers coiled around him, engulfing Tamius in their impossible mass. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, echoed by that of the flesh pulsing around him- the feeling so deeply sickening he could taste bile on his tongue. Tamuis’ stomach lurches as he’s dragged out, hands grasping pointlessly for anything as he's brought forth in front of a sickeningly familiar face.  

He wanted to scream. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to kick, and bite and scratch until she had to let him go. He wanted so desperately to be the cause of even the smallest amount of pain. Anything to wipe that ridiculous awestruck stare off of her stupid face. Anything to pretend like there was something he could do to change the outcome.

But Tamius The Bestoyed,  was a man far too smart for his own good. Cursed with reason, he was granted no security in ignorance. Pride was reserved for those who could delude themselves into believing they were in control. Much to his horror, Tamius knew better. 

He’d been caught. 

Trapped in the fist of a colossus, Tamius swallowed his pride. Tamius was a man of intellect and reason. So he did what any man with intellect and reason would do. 

He begged. 

“Please.” His voice shook, thick with fear and desperation as garbled pleas spilled forth like a river in spring. The knowledge he so prided himself with failed him, his words a stunted mess of gasping pleases and begging to be let go. 

Her brow furrows. 

“Pl-please.” Despite himself, Tamius uselessly strained against her fingers, wracking his brain anything he could say. Her eyes, wide and gray, were locked onto him. 

Gray. 

Gray like foreboding skies. Gray like- 

She sucks in a breath, her eyes widening as some sort of thought passes through the near impenetrable density of her gargantuanly thick skull. For a moment, her mouth hangs agape- a look of confusion crossing her face as she takes her time forming a thought. 

“... Why are you crying?” 

Of all the things she could have said, Tamius had not been anticipating this.

What?

As if experiencing sympathy stupidity, his own mind goes blank, struggling to keep pace with her words. Was he? His face felt wet. 

Wait- what did she mean why? How stupid could she be- As if she wasn’t obviously the reason!  

Tamius wants to say something, but calling out her oblivious stupidity was out of the question. Before he’s able to gather his words, her hand opens up. No longer restrained in her grip, Tamius, completely and totally dumbstruck, finds himself sitting splayed out in her much too warm cupped hand. 

He’s hit with an onslaught of thoughts, as he rapidly begins reformulating any semblance of a plan.

Could he jump? Run? Where was he? Could he fit under the door? How would he get home-   

“Did I …” His thoughts are immediately silenced as she addresses him again, “... hurt you?” 

Her words catch him off guard, but not nearly as much as her expression. Concern. Embarrassment? She seemed horrified at the thought, her grey eyes scrutinizing him for any sign of injury in a way that bordered on violating. 

Too close- too much. 

Unable to find his voice, Tamius shakes his head, scrambling back as much as the limited surface of her hands would allow. The massive, and now that he had the chance to get a good look at her, very sweaty woman eyed him curiously. She thinks for a moment, brow furrowed as the act of thinking clearly was not something in which she was well practiced.

“How did you get so small?”

What? Get? 

His own expression mirrors hers, brow furrowing as realization dawns on him. 

This idiot Gargo thinks I’ve shrunk… 

If he wasn’t so terrified he would have scoffed. It would be his luck that he managed to have encountered the most gullible specimen of humanity imaginable. As if people just go around shrinking- wait. 

People.

She thinks I’m human.

His hands rush to his ears, relief washing over him as he feels his hair, mussed just enough from this whole ordeal to have covered their not quite human shape. This… this could work. Despite the way his hands shook, despite the way his heart pounded in his chest, despite the way this was far beyond the bounds of a worst case scenario, a wry smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

What an idiot.

[beepbeepmfkr]

Trans Dude: "I understand very well the intersection of transphobia and misogyny because I've lived it my whole life. That being said. It feels icky to take the term made by trans women, it's theirs. Also I'm not a woman. Maybe we can have our own word-"

The Chronically Online, unaware that having multiple words for different things is actually Good in Real Life Conversations: "I think that makes you a bigot who hates trans women 😡"

[doortongs]

no L, I swear that you grieve so normally...

previous / next

[dnbrainrot]

Kinda gay of you to say that Light

[overtake]

admitting ur a larrie and saying it brought you to your current ship is such a brave personal choice. this comment should be an official diagnosis in the dsm-5.

[princeshroob]

Desperately want L*ppland alter partially because it means I'll have something to call her other than "L*ppland".