I don’t know, I feel like death is a little too far. How about resigns and educates themself to become a better person. Dying is an alternative though.
There’s something of a misunderstanding of the cis experience here.
Part of masculinity under cisheteronormativity is to be actively under pressure to do it enough. To not be “girly.” I am 100% cis and I am not masc enough by this society’s (stupid) standards – part of this is racialized (in my case, the antisemitic stereotype of Jewish men as neurotic intellectuals devoid of real manliness (we do it to ourselves too: see Woody Allen and City Slickers)), parts of it are fatphobia and anti-intellectualism (neither fat men nor men with desk jobs are “real men”) and part of it is as a tool to police everyone else, as we can use misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia to “prove” we’re real men if we’re willing to hate the right way.
So yeah, I’m cis, and the only reason I picked “about once a month” rather than “daily” is because I’ve mostly addressed the drumbeat of “am I being masc enough? can I wear pink? can I safely tell these people I enjoy baking? can I go out for a drink and have one drink and not get made fun of for it?”
thinking about a mattpatt game theory style video about the identity of batman in the dc universe.
“We have to assume that Batman makes a certain amount of money to be able to have all of his gear and things like the batmobile. So let’s look at the number of millionaires and billionaires that live within Gotham city. From here we can safely rule out all women and the men below five foot eight as Batman is agreed upon as ‘fairly tall.’ Now we look at ages and knock out people above 50 and below 30 based on how long Batman has been on the job. This leaves a manageable number of people on our list. Some can be knocked off the list manually, like Bruce Wayne. *insert poorly edited picture of Brucie in a costume Batman mask.* We can also successfully scratch out the names of people who have been in the same room as Batman. Then we look at the realistic schedules of the people left…and. No one. Not a single person was left on the list. Of course this list wasn’t perfect, but you’d think we’d get at least one candidate. But the best the list got us was Brucie Wayne which… I don’t even have to tell you why that’s incorrect. Batman’s identity remains a mystery but uh I guess that’s the point.”
Turns out that in real life it’s not just the tiny skinny ones who end up actually being trans women. Sometimes it’s the people who are built like linebackers, the people so tall they develop back issues hunching over from trying not to be the biggest person in the room, the people who can’t even find well-fitting clothing at big and tall stores, the people who “thigh-highs” barely go above the knee, the people with broad shoulders and high hairlines that bangs can’t hide. And yes a lot of these features aren’t seen as feminine or cute or beautiful. I’m sorry that I resemble stereotypical transphobic caricatures a bit too closely, and I’m sorry that acknowledging the existence of people that look like me might make getting trans acceptance from cis people a lot harder. But frankly I’m one of the lucky ones who realized things before I started balding, one of the lucky ones who has many years of youth spent taking hormones in my future to somewhat alleviate the problems that make me hate my own body. And I don’t think any of these issues makes me or anyone else less of a woman, and if no one else wants to even try to depict people like us in a flattering manner then I’ll do my damnedest to do it myself
To everyone who used this post as an excuse to say “Awooga big women 👀” in the tags please read the fucking room
An old dragon just wants to be left alone, but the new village that just cropped up a few decades ago keep leaving gifts at his doorstep… and now they’ve just left a maiden!
Dragons, long lived and seldom born as they are, do not think as men do, in days and hours. Dragons think in years, decades, centuries. They blink, and five times has the world gone round the sun. They sleep, and a decade has passed. So, Varas paid little mind to the village built at the base of his mountain.
They were so tiny, really. These little places humans scraped out of the wild. fragile, even. This wasn’t even the first time a village had been built here. The first had come and gone so quickly he had not even noticed it until he had stomped through its ruins on one of his walks. Goblin raid, if he had had to wager. Nothing left but ash and bone.
So Varas paid them little heed and went back to his doings, flying, hunting, sleeping, pondering as Dragons are want to do.
If he had to pinpoint the moment things changed, it was when he had woken one day to find a thief robbing his hoard. A dragon’s hoard was his pride, and that could not stand. He had awoken in a rare fury, burning the thief to cinders, and casting his ruined form from his cave.
He supposed the body must have landed in the village, because soon after, things changed.
They started leaving him things. At first it was livestock. A cow, a goat, a drop in the bucket of his appetite. Still, they were appreciated. Food was food, and the livestock tasted good enough.
Then it was more exotic things, accompanying the livestock. Treasure. Rare books. Even fancy dresses. The treasure was appreciated, of course. The books even more so, his library was the pride of his hoard after all. He had no idea what to do with the dresses so he stashed them in the back of his hoard, thinking they might one day be of use.
It had been a status quo of sorts, one he had tolerated even as the village grew and grew, becoming a small town.
Then, some foolish knight had come to slay him That happened to Dragons, foolish humans thinking they could make themselves legends by slaying a dragon. Pah, only the greatest of humans earned that right, and their names were venerated even among the Dragons.
Sigurd, George, Heracles. Their names were etched in the memory of every Dragon. This knight was none of them. Some foolish vassal of a vassal with ahead too big for his own good. Varas had not even bothered with his fire. He had merely knocked the human off the cliff outside his cave and let the mountain do the rest.
After that, the humans left a girl.
-
He had just awoken, stretched and yawned, and found the usual offering of a swine and a box of treasure, but with them was a shivering slip of a girl in one of the fine dresses he was now accustomed to getting, although it was almost comically too big for her, and she was shaking, sobbing, and crying.
This… was very strange.
He emerged from his cave and the girl screamed and fell to the ground, shielding her head, muttering and praying.
Now this was just ridiculous.
“Human,” he growled, and the girl froze.
She looked up, slowly, and met his great gaze. “Y- you speak?”
What? Did humans think Dragons were mute? Eh, who cared. “Why are you here?”
She blinked, fear giving way to confusion. “I- I am your sacrifice, great one.”
Sacrifice?! What was this?!
“I have no need for man flesh. Get thee gone from my door.”
He said little more, merely snatched the other offerings, leaving the girl out there, confused and frightened. After that he confesses he quite forgot about her until the next day, where he found she was still there, sleeping huddled behind a rock.
Now he was starting to anger. Did he not tell her to go?!
He went to her, and prodded her with his talon, waking her. She cried out, pressing herself against the mountain, eyes terrified.
“I told thee to get thee gone. Why have you defied me?”
the girl shivered. “D-Dragon I just- You’re meant to eat me!”
Eat her?! where had this come from? “I have no appetite for your kind.”
The girl shook her head. “B-but the Knight! Sir Evans!”
Oh Fates, was THAT what this was about?! “He came to slay me. I cast him from the mountain and ate his horse.”
She shook her head. “But- but it was a message! You- you aren’t satisfied with our offerings and wanted more!”
The dragon snorted. “I asked for no offerings. You left them to me of your own will. I took them because they were given. I would care little if they stopped.”
The girl shook her head. “But- but the story- one-hundred years ago when Sciath was first founded you cast a thousand burning corpse into the town square, demanding tribute! We have a day of remembrance and everything!
A thousand- what?! “It was one thief I burned and sent down the mountain.”
she stopped and stared. “One- One thief?”
Varas nodded. “Yes. Now that you know the truth, return to thy home, girl. I have no care for sacrifices.”
With that, Varas returned to his cave, considering the matter settled. However, much to his shock, the girl was still there the next day, looking tired and miserable.
Now this was just mad. Did she have nothing better to do?!
“You’re still here?” he asked, going out to her.
The girl nodded. “I- I don’t want to go back.”
Now this was strange. And interesting. Varas settled down, extending out one wing to shade the girl from the sun. “You do not wish to return to thy den?”
she shook her head, tears in her eyes once more. “They- they sent me here to die! It doesn’t- doesn’t matter that you didn’t they thought you would! All of them- my own parents- I- I-”
She broke down crying again. Varas said nothing. The ways of humans were strange to him. But he understood that betraying your own kin was wrong, no matter the nature.
“Dragon,” she said in a small voice. “I- I am so hungry. So thirsty. May- may I have something to eat? It’s been days.”
The dragon cocked his head, curiously, and rose. “My name is Varas, human. What is yours.”
“R- Rose. My name is Rose.”
“Enter and be welcome, Rose.”
-
Like that, a new normal had been established. Rose stayed in his cave for a day, and then he blinked and a year had passed.
She availed herself of his hoard. She learned to read from his books. Learned to fight with his the weapons in his piles of treasure. She taught herself to cook, to sew, even to smith.
He aided her, of course, curious to see what she could do. He helped build her a forge and a workshop to pursue her interests. He even parted with some of his gold (scandalous!).
The years turned to decades as they did for dragons, and Rose grew from a slip of a girl, into a powerful young woman.
It was strange, to see one grow up close. Their lives were so short, these humans. It was a privilege to witness this, he had realized.
And it was… nice. Nice to have a companion.
When twenty years had passed, they left another girl at his doorstep. another cringing slip of a girl, who nearly fainted when she saw Rose and himself. Rose took the new girl, Evelyn, in, and started to teach her all the things Rose had taught herself.
And then, one day, Rose came to him, asking permission to leave.
“I want to go out into the world.” Said Rose. “I want to help people, fight their enemies, maybe even meet other dragons!”
Varas looked her over. She looked so different, clad in armor and armed with sword and shield, both of which she had forged herself. sometimes he looked at her and saw the frightened child that had been left on his doorstep.
“I’d like to take Evie with me, she’s my squire after all.”
Varas sighed. “You have never been my prisoner, Rose. Thou hath been free to leave whenever you wished.”
She nodded. “I- I know Varas. You’ve just been so- so good to me. I- I wanted your blessing, I guess.”
He leaned forward and touched his snout to her brow. “It is given. I bequeath to you the world, Rose. Take it.”
Rose smiled and kissed the horn that rose from his snout.
“Thank you, father.”
He would never see Rose again.
-
Time passed, as it did. The village would leave him gifts, always with a maiden now. And always would he take them in. Sometimes they would leave, sometimes they died in his cave. He had a dozen living in his cave at this point, the eldest nearly eighty, presiding over the girls like a grandmother.
Before he knew it, a century had passed.
And then, one day, a knight came to his cave.
She was a resplendent creature, clad in burnished plate and armed with a familiar sword. The young woman knelt to him as he left his cave, and announced herself.
“Mighty Varas, Lord of Mount Crakefen. I am Arya Morrigan, Dame of the Knightly Order of the Dragon’s Rose. I am here to pay tribute to the father of our founder, and return an ancient relic to you.”
And with that, the knight unbuckled her sword and presented it to Varas, and he recognized Rose’s handiwork.
HIS Rose.
Varas accepted it and beheld the knight. “Tell me of her.”
The woman looked at him. “Who, Mighty Varas?”
Varas settled down by her, extending a wing to shade her from the sun as he had to a shivering slip of a girl a century ago. A blink of his eye, a drop in the bucket of his immortal life, and yet somehow a moment that had changed everything.
“Tell me of Rose.”
Dame Arya smiled. “Lord Varas, let me tell you the tale of Rose Varasdaughter, the greatest hero the land has ever known.”
oooh have you ever done a post about the ridiculous mandatory twist endings in old sci-fi and horror comics? Like when the guy at the end would be like "I saved the Earth from Martians because I am in fact a Vensuvian who has sworn to protect our sister planet!" with no build up whatsoever.
Yeah, that is a good question - why do some scifi twist endings fail?
As a teenager obsessed with Rod Serling and the Twilight Zone, I bought every single one of Rod Serling’s guides to writing. I wanted to know what he knew.
The reason that Rod Serling’s twist endings work is because they “answer the question” that the story raised in the first place. They are connected to the very clear reason to even tell the story at all. Rod’s story structures were all about starting off with a question, the way he did in his script for Planet of the Apes (yes, Rod Serling wrote the script for Planet of the Apes, which makes sense, since it feels like a Twilight Zone episode): “is mankind inherently violent and self-destructive?” The plot of Planet of the Apes argues the point back and forth, and finally, we get an answer to the question: the Planet of the Apes was earth, after we destroyed ourselves. The reason the ending has “oomph” is because it answers the question that the story asked.
According to Rod Serling, every story has three parts: proposal, argument, and conclusion. Proposal is where you express the idea the story will go over, like, “are humans violent and self destructive?” Argument is where the characters go back and forth on this, and conclusion is where you answer the question the story raised in a definitive and clear fashion.
The reason that a lot of twist endings like those of M. Night Shyamalan’s and a lot of the 1950s horror comics fail is that they’re just a thing that happens instead of being connected to the theme of the story.
One of the most effective and memorable “final panels” in old scifi comics is EC Comics’ “Judgment Day,” where an astronaut from an enlightened earth visits a backward planet divided between orange and blue robots, where one group has more rights than the other. The point of the story is “is prejudice permanent, and will things ever get better?” And in the final panel, the astronaut from earth takes his helmet off and reveals he is a black man, answering the question the story raised.
IIRC “Judgment Day” was part of the inspiration for the excellent Star Trek: Deep Space Nine episode “Far Beyond the Stars.”
this burger i just cooked for dinner is the most burger looking burger ive ever made. this is the standard burger shape . this thing looks like a krabby patty
love the difference in responses between here and twitter. on twitter i am being insulted for enjoying tomato on my burger and not completely melting the cheese into dairy based lava, meanwhile here everyone is sharing the joy of the perfectly shaped burger. you all understand me
THINGS I NEED TO FUCKING KNOW: Why every fuckin trans man or nb person I know who binds is like “oh binders are the worst, you can’t breathe in them, I know someone who broke a rib once”,
And meanwhile over in historical costuming, we are fucking eating, sleeping, swordfighting, riding horses, and feeling great like this:
Omigods yes that’s what I used to make my trial binding corset for under a 1830′s gentleman’s costume! I adapted the Elizabethan Pattern Generator Corset to look more like the gentleman’s corset of the time as portrayed in satirical cartoons.
This was only the second pair of stays I made, but it already made me practically flat and was quite comfortable. I didn’t even full bone it and it looked like this:
(don’t judge me for the awful way the boning sticks out at the top, I am by no means a corsetry expert)
People who are actually good at stays will be able to make things like these with no trouble, because if something made from old sheets and recycled boning can do this, imagine what you can do with proper materials.
Just for fun, here’s me in my gentleman’s outfit:
It basically eliminates my boobs, but leaves the hips alone because at that time the hourglass silhouette was fashionable for men as well. I’m not exactly flat-chested, so I’d say for a first attempt this one is very succesful.
…okay, was anyone going to tell me that gentlemen’s corsets were A Thing or did I just have to learn that in a random reblog myself
they absolutely make corsets for men and they turn me a bit ravenous every time
(in the mid-late 19th century, at least, they were more often called “health belts” and marketed much like weight belts are today. in practice, though, the number of satirical cartoons depicting dandies lacing down suggests that they were publically perceived as vanity tools more than aids for heavy lifting. where the truth of their most common purpose lies is a mystery; I would guess somewhere in the middle)
it is because everyone says binders hurt and compress and break your ribs. when you’re first seeing information about binding, it’s all about how binding is unsafe and will physically hurt. I don’t mean to lecture you, just to give a real answer to the question
and the answer is that by the time someone works up the courage to start binding, they have–at minimum–seen multiple sources of information claim that binding is unsafe and physically hurts, as absolute medical fact. most likely, they haven’t seen ANY information refuting this. at all.
so step one is deciding you need to bind badly enough that you will endure physical pain and potential medical complications
and then you buy a binder that’s most likely shit quality, made from materials meant to compress, barely one step above ace bandages. there are tons of these “binders” out there, sold for very cheap by scammy companies
and remember, you think is is Absolute Medical Fact that this is just how it is. so you’re probably not doing much searching for “better” materials or a “better” company because there is no better. you have absolutely NO conception whatsoever that it could be better
then, even if you do get a quality binder made with good materials, binder sizes are genuinely out of touch with actual reality. I weighed maybe 115 lbs and the binder that fit me comfortably was a size LARGE. I had never in my life been anything less than a small. I started by ordering a medium because I have just-barely-C cups and knew I would start putting on weight with the testosterone and–
I could barely get it on. it was SO tight. any other piece of clothing in the entire universe and I would have immediately recognized “oh hey this isn’t my size”
except binding is unsafe and physically hurts
so even with a quality binder from a good company, because I accidentally ordered a size too small, I still almost ended up binding in a way that was unsafe and physically hurts because that’s what I expected! it was working AS INTENDED!!
it was working as intended
for anyone still reading along, that is the POINT of a lot of information out there about binding. for the same reason conservatives tell you if you’re gay, you’ll die of AIDs, then point to the statistics of all the people who died of AIDs, and fight so so SO hard to make sure there’s no proper sex education to tell you about condoms or PrEP (taken to prevent getting HIV) or treatment afterwards or how your viral load can be suppressed or that it actually can be managed now and isn’t a quick death sentence
I ordered one size up (the large size), and that gave me a binder that fit like a tank top. It has a stiff cotton panel in the front that is just tight enough to press down on my chest, but mostly it just redistributes how the fat sits to make a more even, flat across shape. you can see in the first pictures how the front panel forms almost like a cone, that may not be completely FLAT (it still pushes out a little) but there aren’t any curves or noticeable “breast shape”
my binder doesn’t leave red marks or dig into my skin. the shoulder straps are wide and, again, distribute the weight more evenly than a lot of bra straps I’ve worn before, which did dig in and leave red marks. I think a lot of people also approach binding from a background of wearing ill-fitting bras, bc no one really teaches us about or helps us size those either, so we’re already used to “chest undergarment that hurts me”
the binder I have is safe to exercise and swim in while wearing, it pulls on and off over my head like a tank top, and I can take full and deep breaths while wearing it. I have never been short of breath or struggled to breath from wearing it
binding does not have to be unsafe and should NOT physically hurt. if it does: the materials are wrong (compression) or the size is simply too small
icant even explain why i feel this way about it but this meme, this specific version, just makes me so emotional i love it so so much. its very heartwarming. peace n love on planet earth
The far right justices in question are Clarence Thomas (75) and Samuel Alito (73). The likelihood that both will be able to remain on the bench until 2029, at the earliest, is small, especially with the growing ethics concerns around Thomas’ financial improprieties and his wife’s association with January 6 that may push his retirement even though he is currently (very) resistant. Thomas and Alito are the oldest members of the Court.
Re-electing Biden substantially increases the chances of the loaded 6-3 court shifting to 5-4, moving control away from the far right bloc, by 2029.
But it also has to be considered that Sonia Sotomayor, even though she is only 68, may not be able to remain on the bench through the next presidential term due to health concerns.
The first Trump presidency and Mitch McConnell’s scheming loaded the court with three right wing ideologues who barely qualify to teach law at Regent University, let alone have lifetime appointments to our highest court.
It is crucial to remember that the impact of a presidency on the courts outlasts any other presidential legacy and can change the entire course of American life for decades.
Obergefell vs Hodges is one of the things that might be on the line in the future. If you don’t want gay marriage to have the same spotty rights as it used to — as happened with abortion without Roe vs Wade — then I recommend voting in your interest, even if it feels like there’s no moral choice on the ballot.
The far right justices in question are Clarence Thomas (75) and Samuel Alito (73). The likelihood that both will be able to remain on the bench until 2029, at the earliest, is small, especially with the growing ethics concerns around Thomas’ financial improprieties and his wife’s association with January 6 that may push his retirement even though he is currently (very) resistant. Thomas and Alito are the oldest members of the Court.
Re-electing Biden substantially increases the chances of the loaded 6-3 court shifting to 5-4, moving control away from the far right bloc, by 2029.
But it also has to be considered that Sonia Sotomayor, even though she is only 68, may not be able to remain on the bench through the next presidential term due to health concerns.
The first Trump presidency and Mitch McConnell’s scheming loaded the court with three right wing ideologues who barely qualify to teach law at Regent University, let alone have lifetime appointments to our highest court.
It is crucial to remember that the impact of a presidency on the courts outlasts any other presidential legacy and can change the entire course of American life for decades.
Obergefell vs Hodges is one of the things that might be on the line in the future. If you don’t want gay marriage to have the same spotty rights as it used to — as happened with abortion without Roe vs Wade — then I recommend voting in your interest, even if it feels like there’s no moral choice on the ballot.
A lot of people saying that katara would win bc of bloodbending, but
1. Percy can bloodbend too
2. It doesn’t even really matter because he doesn’t need to use his hands to move water.
Like you’re forgetting that one of the main reasons that bloodbenders are so difficult to fight is because most people need their hands in order to bend properly. But Percy doesn’t need his hands. In fact, in what I’m pretty sure is the first instance we’re shown of Percy actually controlling water at the beginning of the first book, he blacks out for a second while staring at a bully and the water just grabs her.
Katara is very formidable as a bender and able to keep up with Aang throughout the entire show, but Percy is literally the son of the god of water. There is no way Katara wins this.
When we get to a point where trans women are actually at least somewhat accepted, I hope you guys won’t expect us to forgive you, right? When you guys say “yeah I used to hate trans women but it was how the times were haha” I hope you’re not going to expect that to be a good excuse. I hope you don’t expect us to forgive your transmisogyny because it wasn’t overt “kill all trans women” type shit either. I hope you’re not going to expect us to forget all this shit. I won’t.
a few months ago i saw a girl irl wearing your tax evadion hoodie. i now realise that she is a pukicho degenerate like me. her name is aneka and she plays the flute and is super cool. i want to break laws with aneka now.
ALT
ALT
