The most important thing for a person to be is Interesting
The next most important thing for a person to be is Kind
The third most important thing? FUCKING BADASS WIZARD
i will never complain about a book seeming like a fanfic with the serial numbers filed off because that means the author had the invaluable ability to tell when their au had diverged enough that these were just straight-up different characters now
i can’t decide if this is the single coolest girl in the world for making danger her middle name or the silliest for not seeing the raw power of “millipede danger” which is the greatest name i have ever heard
Everyone thought that the mass-production of Firearms would render Magic obsolete in battle, but Spellcasters have adapted. Instead of casting from a wand, most mages now cast from their gun.
*at the vampire convention* ladies and gentlebats—the style of the summer, yet again… CLOAKS! *collective groaning from the rows of cloaked figures*
yet another year of beautiful fashion at the #wizardcouncil gala! Cowl the Unseen was absolutely stunning (we assume) in a beautiful floral(?) number (who can say) and Izerion the Infinite’s infinite hat spiraled off into every conceivable dimension, impaling many good apprentices and homunculi. another rousing success!
My 90yr old Irish Catholic grandpa doesn’t miss with my gender. He’s never gotten my name wrong, or my pronouns, never even faltered over it.
It’s all so natural too: son, big man, young man…
We’ve never talked about it. He’s the only one who hasn’t pushed for details. He just accepted it and carried on because it’s not a huge deal.
It’s so comforting.
My dear that’s called Alzheimer’s
I wasn’t going to respond to this, I looked at your blog. Your irrational hatred and bile directed towards trans people is palpable and pathetic. This was intended to upset me.
But I now have a chance to talk about who my grandfather is.
You see, I find it interesting that you claim the only way my 90yr old grandfather could possibly be so accepting is if he was dying of one of the most horrible diseases known to man, a condition which eats your brain from the inside out and turns you in an angry, scared shell of the child you once were while your family has to grieve you long before you’re dead.
You find it easier - and evidently prefer - to believe that to accept me, my grandfather must have Alzheimer’s rather than any other reason.
Why is that easier to believe than a man who lived through (not was born during, not was around for, lived through) the Second World War and the aftermath, seeing footage of the concentration camps and meeting refugees would be accepting?
A poor builder and a farmer who worked alongside queer men and deaf men and the few people of colour in Northern Ireland in the 1950s and was himself barred from many places of employment and education due to his religion?
This man, whose oldest son was born the year the British army began occupying his country, who lived through the Troubles and was automatically considered suspicious and dangerous through an incident of birth? A man who helped raise six children - most of them boys and therefore in great danger of the army turning their guns on them for playing kid-games - in a time of civil war where it didn’t seem to matter which side you were on, the bombs and shootings could get you either way? A man who once was taken hostage by the IRA?
My grandfather’s oldest son - my dad - was the first in his family to go to university and there he met and fell in love with a Protestant woman. This was before the Good Friday Agreement, when the civil war was still happening, and if my grandparents had a problem with it - they never let said to my mum.
(My grandpa and my mum don’t really get along, but that’s more to do with me being a premature baby and tensions over my survival and disagreements on how to look after me. My mum and my Nana? Thick as thieves.)
They certainly never let it slip to us when we came along because it wasn’t important anymore that we were something many people in Northern Ireland would have preferred to not exist. It didn’t matter.
He voted in the Good Friday Agreement in hopes of stopping the conflict. He spent a lot of time listening to me about the bullying I was facing for being - unbeknownst to me at the time - queer and disabled. He just told me that being happy was far more important.
Being trans? It does not matter. Of course it doesn’t matter to him because he’s seen worse things in the world.
He’s ninety years old. He’s still out on the farm, he’s still studying history, he’s still sharp as fuck. I’ve seen someone die of Alzheimer's. I know every bit of it and it’s not him. Besides, I’ve not medically transitioned in anyway yet. He’s only seen me presenting fully masc for six days in person. Two years in total. If he had Alzheimer’s he’d be calling me by my deadname and using she/her.
And he’s not unusual. Outside of your echo chamber, most people are fine with trans people. Most people don’t care. Most people are accepting. They may not understand, they may not use the right words, but they’re accepting.
I do find it interesting that once again the TERF tactic is try and wrestle autonomy and self-control away from people who don’t follow your bigoted stances. Autistics must be being manipulated. Trans men are clearly confused little girls. Children obviously can’t understand their own minds and bodies.
My grandfather must have Alzheimer's.
Of course my view of a world I’ve seen in a Tumblr textpost must be more correct than the reality everyone else lives in.
Have the day you deserve.
Start pinning your throw blankets over one shoulder like an ancient traveling cloak. I’ve been doing it as an around the house outfit and the ancients knew what they were doing with that one.
This is the look
How do I explain to you people that interracial relationships are okay
Not every white person dating a POC is fetishizing. White people can be respectful and responsible when it comes to culture and relationships and not everyone has bad intentions.
Asian people can date Black people without you saying shit like “your kids will be so pretty” they’re not dating for pretty kids. They’re dating bc they like each other.
Someone can dress their partner in clothing from their culture if they want. Someone can take their partner to cultural events if they want.
People in relationships can share cultures, experiences and love without it being toxic or skin deep.
Their partner isn’t culturally appropriating. Their partner is being shown the ultimate form of love, bc their partner trusts them and loves them enough to share their history and heritage.
Yeah, dating someone from your culture is nice bc you automatically have similar experiences. But you’re not limited to dating people with the same experiences. Loving someone is sharing and growing and being together.
Interracial relationships aren’t always toxic, and some of y’all need to stop projecting onto other people.
👆 THIS 👆 👏👏👏
Calling ineterracial relationships toxic or fetishizing just seem like anti race mixing or racism with extra steps
This reminded me of this
hey s/o to chronically ill or otherwise physically disabled people who are mostly, entirely undiagnosed, or otherwise have undiagnosed body problems that have yet to be explained.
especially if your symptoms are scary and confusing and weird enough to both you (and perhaps also to medical practitioners) that you have no idea what's really going on with you so that you can't even self-dx or make a solid guess at it.
especially if you keep getting expensive and non-routine medical testing/exams that seems like it's supposed to tell you something but then the results come back normal.
especially if the only potential answers to your problems are notoriously difficult to diagnose, treat, and/or require specialists that you don't have access to.
especially if this would have been a lot easier to deal with if you had supportive family members but you were medically neglected and/or don't have any family that you can rely on (this particularly applies to congenital stuff.)
and especially if you don't have the time, finances, or patience to figure out what the fuck is going on because dealing with the medical system and constant testing and a constant lack of answers is utterly fucking exhausting. desperately wanting help and relief and feeling fear that something might be seriously wrong but you don't even need to start, or just being tired of suffering and not having any clue what your body is doing.
post inspired having had episodes of wack neurological(?) shit that was causing excruciating nerve pain at the base of my neck and my upper back that was at like a 10 and cognitive impairment that got worse the longer i remained upright (including my speech starting to slur) over the past couple of years that seems to correlate with daytime manual labor specifically. seemed to be a herniated disc but a supine mri that insurance refused to cover showed zero signs of disc herniation or any other abnormalities. is it cci? is it a spinal cfs leak?? who fucking knows dude!! i came home sounding like i was drunk one day due to how fucking delirious i was and left work on day in tears once due to feeling like a knife was in the base of my neck and i still have no idea why ✌🏻
do interact if: you have a hyphenated last name, you're an older sibling, you have a cat, art was your favorite subject, you have kissed your friends, you really like at least one field of science, watch nature documentaries, you drank from the hose, you've been involved with the production of a musical but you never listened to hamilton, have at least one stick-n-poke, drink coffee every day, you have a favorite houseplant, prefer little and big spoon equally, have a dietary restriction, have dyed your hair green, or have been somewhere that you don't speak the language
yet another year of beautiful fashion at the #wizardcouncil gala! Cowl the Unseen was absolutely stunning (we assume) in a beautiful floral(?) number (who can say) and Izerion the Infinite’s infinite hat spiraled off into every conceivable dimension, impaling many good apprentices and homunculi. another rousing success!
They should create a shonen with women
All women. I want all that bullshit about the power of friendship shouted by a overpowered girl main character. Homoerotic rivalry between women that aren’t about a guy they both like. Women who hit hard other women. Deadbeat mothers who abandon their family in search of something and stay at home dad that die tragically when their daughter is young and daughters who hate their deabeat mom for leaving them or look up to her and want to become like her. I think the deadbeat mom and the dead dad should be a staple of shonen with women.
I’ll allow three guys but they have to fulfill these roles
- Healer
- Guy whose power is being hot/bewitching people with his look
- Guy who’s like 67 but he’s really vain so he uses his power to look either 20ish or like a kid
the basic idea this post describes vs the shows that everyone recommends
When I think about American attitudes to parenting there's something that always comes to mind, but I don't know whether it's a real thing. All my life in American films and TV I've heard child characters addressing their dads as "sir" or being told off for not doing so.
Is that really a commonplace thing in American families, or is it just a shorthand way of showing that the character is a shitty dad?
There's still time to increase the sample size!
when you see your little kitty walking toward you at a leisurely pace and say "hi baby!" bc you're excited to see her and she starts trotting a little bit faster 'cause she's excited to see you too. that's what life is all about i think
But what about how she says “mrrrow” just as she starts her lil trot?