Talking meaning chatting online, interacting irl, or even exchanging one or two messages. I just want to see how much tumblr users actually talk to each other!

Modern problems require modern solutions (couldn't draw OCs bc wrist hurt, so made a picrew instead)

Here's my murdergirlies:

Edit: picrew link if anyone interested:

Me but hair need more volume

i just wanted 2 be included.............

And 6./ The 1.9m tall « woman » with brightly dyed hair who sexually assaulted a boy.

rb to make a biological essentialist mad <3

Honestly as a trans person this really sucks to hear.

I have been using the studies promoting trans people and brain sex as solidifying our existence with something you can actually see, tangible proof that we are who we say we are. I used it to convince on-the-fence cis people to accept us and see us as the gender we are instead of “pretending” to be another gender.

Genuinely this fucking sucks.

Sorry information that’s based on years of misogyny has been disproven, must be so awful for you

did you guys know that there are people on twitter right now earnestly arguing that a kpop group’s upcoming album needs to be boycotted because it is secretly meant to be celebrating a basque separatist movement. they are entirely serious 

me: you can dislike dick without invalidating trans women’s genders and making their lives hell while you do it.

terfs:

women: just because we dislike dick doesn’t mean we’re invalidating transwomen and making their lives hell while we do it

trans ideologists: 

oh boy i can make so many 

trans ideologists: why are cis lesbians all terfs?! all they talk about is pussy smh those vagina fetishists

lesbians: well why don’t you just date other “trans lesbians” if “cisbians” are so disgusting?

i just don’t understand how we went from “being gay is not a choice” to “same sex attraction is inherently discriminatory and lesbians and gay men should critically examine their aversion to the opposite sex.” what happened? what went wrong? why do you hate us so much?

!!!

ANYONE wanna talk about how hot the girls from gl stuff are because like DAMN

incase yall forgot gl girls are where its at.

okay, so I'll name these in order from left to right..

first row

1. Sora and Haena side story

2. For Garbage

3. Killswitch

second row

4. Hateful Lady

5. What does the fox say

6. Alex and Marie

third row

7. What does the fox say

8. I'm more dangerous than you

9. Please leave my house / please get out of my house (I'm not sure which is the right name)

Reblog first row

10. Opium (both photos)

Reblog second row

11. Bad Thinking diary (both photos)

Homophobia in drag

When I was a young boy, I loved spending the night at my grandmother’s house. There, I could stay up as late as I wanted, and in the morning, there would always be Cinnamon Toast Crunch for breakfast. But the best part was raiding the closet in her basement, which was full of the gowns she had worn in the 1960s and 1970s – frilly pink and purple confections made of lace, chiffon and silk. I would put them on and watch The Golden Girls, sophisticatedly sipping Coke from a wine glass.

When I was nine, my dad bought a video camera, a giant monstrosity that my siblings and I struggled to balance on our shoulders while we filmed home videos. Alone, I’d prop the camera on the coffee table and record myself modelling various outfits, explaining to the camera why this plaid shirt went with these cargo shorts, or why this teal Starter jacket complemented these acid-washed jeans so perfectly. I captured on camera the dance I had painstakingly choreographed to Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch’s ‘Good Vibrations’.

As a kid, I followed my two older sisters around like a shadow, mimicking their mannerisms – the way they tucked loose strands of hair behind their ears when they were concentrating on their maths homework; the way they jutted their hips whenever they were talking to cute boys. Like them, I was a naturally athletic kid. My favourite sport was lacrosse, but I much preferred to play with the girls instead of the boys. The boys were quick to push and shove, and they loved to whack each other with their aluminium sticks. Girls relied more on their speed, their reflexes and the skills they’d honed to keep the ball securely cradled in the shallow mesh of their wooden sticks.

I grew up in a fundamentalist Christian community – most people would call it a cult. From kindergarten to the sixth grade, I attended the community’s tiny school. Because enrollment was so low, there was no in-crowd, no separate cliques of jocks and geeks. In retrospect, I’m sure my classmates and especially my teachers noticed my gender-nonconformity – all of my home videos prove that it was glaring – but it went largely ignored. All that mattered was that we were good Christians, that we loved Jesus and evangelised God’s Word to as many people as possible. When I learned about homosexuals in Bible class, or about AIDS (which we were told God had created to punish homosexuals for their sins), I didn’t think for a moment that I was one of them. Sure, my first real crush, when I was 11, had been on a boy – Elijah Wood, an actor about my age whose performance in the 1994 B-movie, North, had captured my heart. But at the time, before sexual maturity, I mistook the longing I felt for Elijah with the more sanitised desire to simply keep his company and be his best friend. I indiscriminately absorbed all of the lessons I learned about homosexuals, as if they were and would always be irrelevant to my life.

The summer after my sixth-grade year, my family left the community and we moved to a neighbouring town. I began seventh grade in a large public school, where there was definitely an in-crowd. My new classmates wasted little time informing me how unacceptable it was for a boy like me to behave the way I did – the way I enunciated my s-words, the way I brushed my auburn hair, which I had highlighted the previous summer with Sun-In. They called me a faggot, delivered me notes that said everyone knew my ‘dirty little secret’. They asked me frequently, ‘Are you a boy or a girl?’. Well, of course I was a boy, I would respond, trembling.

Meanwhile, I was beginning to sexually mature; I was soon developing crushes that inspired more than just a desire to keep a boy’s company. With horror, I realised that I might actually be what the kids were calling me – which, I knew in my bones, guaranteed me a tragically short life and a one-way ticket to hell. That, after all, was what the old form of homophobia entailed. Self-loathing.

To survive the onslaught, I defeminised myself. I lowered my voice, started wearing baggy jeans and sweatshirts, cut the highlights out of my hair, and replaced my Mariah Carey CDs with Nirvana. Soon, the fear and the anxiety became too much to bear, and the only refuge I found was in alcohol and drugs.

In high school, with each passing year, my drug use got worse. After graduation, I lasted one semester in college before dropping out. Two months later, at the age of 19, I had my first of several stays in a local psychiatric ward. I was delusional, addicted to drugs and suicidal.

It was during my second stay in the psychiatric ward that I was introduced to a 12-step programme, which was how I would eventually get sober in my early twenties. It was slow-going in the beginning of my sobriety to accept my homosexuality. I began to reconnect with the young boy I had once been, the boy whose interests expanded beyond what was typical for males. I experimented with bronzer and mascara, and got French manicures and pedicures.

Engaging in these behaviours felt liberating for a while, but eventually the novelty wore off. In fact, they started to feel performative. I realised I didn’t need those things to be my authentic self. My ideas, my voice, the way I treat other people – these are the things that make me the person I truly am.

In 2011, when I was 28, I fell in love with a man. The following year, I joined the fight for marriage equality. After we won that campaign, I knew I wanted to become a gay activist. I wanted to help create a world in which feminine boys and butch girls could exist peacefully in society. A world in which gender-nonconforming people were accepted as natural variations of their own sex. Minorities, sure, but real and valid nonetheless.

The trans question

In 2017, at the age of 33, I enrolled at Columbia University, New York to complete my undergraduate degree. There, I was shocked to discover how gay activism had evolved since marriage equality became the law of the land. The focus was now entirely on personal pronouns and on being ‘queer’. My classmates labelled me ‘cis’, short for cisgender. I didn’t even know what it meant. All I knew was that they called me ‘cis’ in the same cadence that the seventh graders had called me ‘fag’.

Soon, I learned about nonbinary identities, and that some people – many people – were literally arguing that sex, not gender, was a social construct. I met people who evangelised a denomination of transgenderism that I had never heard of, one that included people who had never been gender dysphoric and who had no desire to medically transition. I met straight people whose ‘trans / nonbinary’ identities seemed to be defined by their haircuts, outfits and inchoate politics. I met straight women with Grindr accounts, and listened to them complain about the ‘transphobic’ gay men who didn’t want to have sex with women.

All around me, it seemed, straight people were spontaneously identifying into my community and then policing our behaviours and customs. I began to think that this broadening of the ‘trans’ and ‘queer’ umbrella was giving a hell of a lot of people a free pass to express their homophobia.

At Columbia, I took classes on LGBT history, but much of that history was delivered through the lens of queer theory. Queer theorists appropriate French philosopher Michel Foucault’s ideas about the power of language in constructing reality. They argue that homosexuality didn’t exist prior to the late 19th century, when the word ‘homosexual’ first appeared in medical discourse. Queer theorists proselytise a liberation that supposedly results from challenging the concepts of empirical reality and ‘normativity’. But their converts instead often end up adrift in a sea of nihilism. Queer theory, which has become the predominant method of discussing and analysing gender and sexuality in universities, seemed to me to be more ideological than truthful.

In my classes on gender and sexuality in the Muslim world, however, I discovered something else, too. I learned about current medical practices in Iran, where gay sex is illegal and punishable by death, and where medical transition is subsidised by the state to ‘cure’ gays and lesbians who, the theocratic elite insists, are ‘normal’ people ‘trapped in the wrong bodies’. I privately drew parallels between the anti-gay laws and practices of Iran and what I saw developing in the West, but I convinced myself I was just being paranoid.

Then, I learned about what was happening to gender-nonconforming kids – that they were being prescribed off-label drugs to halt their natural development, so that they’d have time to decide if they were really transgender. If so, they would then be more successful at passing as the opposite sex in adulthood. Even worse, I learned that these practices were being touted by LGBT-rights organisations as ‘life-saving medical care’.

It felt like I was living in an episode of The Twilight Zone. How long were these kids supposed to remain on the blockers? And what happens in a few years, if they decide they’re not ‘truly trans’ after all, and all of their peers have surpassed them? Are they seriously supposed to commence puberty at 16 or 17 years of age? These questions rattled my brain for months, until I learned the actual statistics: nearly all children who are prescribed puberty blockers go on to receive cross-sex hormones. Blockers don’t give a kid time to think. They solidify him in a trans identity and sentence him to a lifetime of very expensive, experimental medicalisation.

I wondered how different these so-called trans kids were from the little boy I had been. Obviously, I grew up to be a gay man and not a transwoman. But how could gender clinicians tell the difference between a young boy expressing his homosexuality through gender nonconformity, and someone ‘born in the wrong body’? I decided to dig deeper into the real history of medical transition.

Medicalising homosexuality

What I learned validated all of my worst fears. I learned that for decades after their invention, synthetic ‘sex hormones’ were used by doctors and scientists who sought to ‘cure’ homosexuality, and by law enforcement to chemically castrate men convicted of committing homosexual acts.

I learned about actress and singer Christine Jorgensen, one of the first people in the US to become widely known for having ‘sex-reassignment’ surgery in the early 1950s. Jorgensen may now be celebrated by the modern ‘LGBTQIA+’ community as a trans icon, but he seemed more concerned with escaping his homosexuality, which he said was ‘deeply alien to my religious attitudes’. As Jorgensen put it, ‘I identified myself as female and consequently my interests in men were normal’.

I learned that of the first adolescents to be treated for gender dysphoria (or what was then called ‘gender identity disorder’) with puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones in the 1990s and early 2000s, the vast majority were homosexual. And I learned that these studies inform current ‘gender-affirming care’ practices.

Soon, I met detransitioned gay men who had sought an escape from internalised and external homophobia in a transgender identity. They continue to suffer severe post-surgical complications, years after their vaginoplasties.

I began to fear we had reached a point of no return a couple of years ago, during a conversation I had with a supposedly ‘progressive’ friend. I told her that, if I had been a young boy now, I likely would have been prescribed puberty blockers and gone on to medically transition. ‘And you don’t think you would’ve been happy as a transwoman?’, she asked me. Her question left me speechless. I couldn’t find the words to state the obvious: that I am a gay man, not a transwoman; that statistics tell me my medical transition may not have been successful; and that I would suffer severe medical complications. In any case, if I had transitioned, I wouldn’t be living an authentic life. After all, isn’t that what this is supposed to be about? Living authentically?

Sylvester, an androgynous disco icon of the 1970s and 1980s, was once asked what gay liberation meant to him. He answered, ‘I could be the queen that I really was without having a sex change or being on hormones’. Perhaps I belong in an earlier era, when newly liberated gays and lesbians rebelled against the medical and psychiatric experiments they had long been subjected to. Perhaps my early aspiration of expanding what it means to be a boy or a girl was nothing but a pipe dream. In Europe, there is hope that these medical experiments will cease, and that gay and lesbian adolescents will be spared from a lifetime of medicalisation. But in the US, nearly eight years after same-sex marriage became the law of the land, it is full-steam ahead with these homophobic practices.

For voicing my concerns about gender-affirming care for minors, I have been called a transphobic bigot. If that’s what speaking out against the medicalisation of homosexuality makes me, then so be it.

Homosexuality = Nazism to Pride in London. After the decades of struggle to even be allowed to live, homosexuals, who founded pride, are now seen as Nazis by the very organizations that wouldn't exist without them. All to appease straights with identities. Hell world.

the nazis literally killed same sex attracted people. what the fuck.

alright i’m taking the privilege of saying “nazi” about anyone or anything outside the context of WW2 away from ppl whose countries were never under nazi control 🫡 y’all’ve had your fun with it

Transactivists once again literally rewriting gay history. Dublin Pride edited out a protest sign that read “The Police aren’t on your side either” and replaced it with one that said “Trans rights are human rights”

Original photo taken on March 19, 1983, taken by Derek Speirs

oh my god????

Sunday 25th! 7pm GMT, 3pm EDT, 12pm PDT, 9pm CEST

Date of the all female cast japanese James Bond musical restream with official English subs! They've never done this before and I hope they will do it again, making it more accessible for overseas fans

Tinfoil hat moment but I swear this ‘omg evil SWERFs!!!” nonsense is a psy op bankrolled by the sex industry because in what world is “I think it’s okay for 60 year old men to buy sex from 18 year olds struggling to afford their next meal :)” something you can say with a goddamn straight face. 

that’s not even a tinfoil hat moment tbh like ‘turn off the blue light’ was a campaign run by traffickers, the #notyourrescueproject was run by a man who posed as one of the women he trafficked under the name “molli desi”, there’s probably more examples but yeah, that’s 100% what’s going on 

Red umbrella project was started/run by pimps and traffickers too.

Also think about now much modern feminism has to do with “sex positivity” and glorifies PornHub 👀

Also the NSWP, one of the most influential sex work orgs (backed by Amnesty & funded by George Soros) has ties to human trafficking. One of their leaders got sentenced for procuring and trafficking a few years ago

Oh and the IUSW openly takes money from pimps, including Douglas Fox who ran one of the biggest prostitution rings in England

Liberal feminists and pro-“sex work” advocates, have you asked yourself who is benefiting from the constant platitudes you throw out? When you forego listening to the experiences of actual women who live in these conditions, the women who have been forever harmed and scarred by these immoral industries, and instead parrot talking points made by child predators, traffickers, pimps, and sexbuyers, who do you think is benefiting? I used to be like you. I used to spout the “sex workers deserve rights, and the way to go about that is through legalization” talking points. That stopped once I started dedicating time to researching the endless campaigns, legislative bodies and lobbyists that end up being the ones who are actively hurting women and selling them into sexual slavery. I started reading theory from women who have dedicated their lives to the protection and advocacy for women who don’t have the privilege of seeking these outlets themselves. Almost one million men, women, and children are trafficked every year alone. Have you ever critically addressed why you support legislation that increases this number? Why you claim we’re “sex-worker” exclusive when our feminism seems to be the only kind that seeks to abolish the sexual violence that pervades still? Empowerment is not commodifying women and selling us into sexual slavery. Empowerment is a state of being that requires that we have the conditions to make choices free of economic or otherwise violent coercion, or ultimatums that force women into inescapable circumstances. Wanting to legalize sexbuying, pimping, or brothel-owning is the advocacy of selling women for men’s sexual pleasure no matter the cost, and attempts to codify into law the types of situations that cause women to become prostitutes or trafficked individuals rather than eradicating the sociocultural, economic, political, and legislative plagues that commodify & objectify women, and force them into scenarios where they must submit to the sexual wills of men to survive.

stayc gi- ,, stayc g- *chokes on tears* i-its going down

no gi- .. generation…. gir- .. on top,, cosmic gi-*cries*,, brave gir-*GUNSHOT*

Floral Sapphic Asks

Tulip: favorite perfume?

Pansy: most courageous thing you’ve ever done?

Daffodil: what’s your most attractive quality?  what do you find most attractive in a girlfriend?

Cammelia: do you want to have kids? if so, what are some names you like? if not, why?

Lilac: do you have any spiritual beliefs?

Snowdrop: what’s the perfect climate for you?

Cherry Blossom: do you have any lucky objects or superstitions you do for luck?

Peony: do you want to get married? if so, what would you want your wedding to be like?

Iris: who’s the wisest woman you know?

Lily of the Valley: what makes you happy? when’s the last time you felt happy?

Pussy Willow: how do you feel about poetry? do you have a favorite poem or poet?

Rose: how do you define love/do you believe in love? have you ever been in love?

Dahlia: how’s your mental health?

Poppy: what’s the last dream you had, or a dream that’s stuck with you for a long time? do you have any recurring dreams?

Orchid: how do you show affection? how would you like affection shown to you?

Children of Palestine

Children of Syria