Sweetie, I Love Ya... But Even If It's Not Halloween I'll Probably Be Spooky, It's Just Part Of My Current

^w^ the only sweet I’d put over love is the sweetheart who I replied to!

#aromantic #chocolate

This sounds so nice arfff … I hope I get to be me, to be a puppy, and be loved for who I am and not who I was .

You get home and as soon as you open the door you hear your pup yipping and barking and running to meet you. As she runs up to you and starts giving you puppykissies and snuggles, you feel some of the stress of the day fall away.

What a great idea it was to adopt this poor pup. You had seen her sitting in a car barely holding back tears in the parking garage one day after work. Seeing how distressed she was, you walked over to make sure she was doing okay and ask if she needed help. She couldn't seem to string a sentence together so you asked if you could help her with anything. She finally managed to stammer out that she had been kicked out from her parents house and didn’t know what to do next. The first time you heard her bark was when you asked if she needed a place to stay. It took all you had to calm her down after that, to convince her that it was okay, that if a puppy barked that was fine, that you didn’t hate her, that you weren’t gonna leave, that you wouldn’t abandon her. Once she settled down, you gave her your address and told her to follow you there.

Getting her settled into your guestroom was a whole other process, mostly involving her constantly apologizing and saying she should probably just leave and you comforting her and providing reassurance that it was actually all fine, that it was okay for her to be here, and that you didn’t hate her. You eventually found the secret to stopping the apology spiral was telling her what a good puppy she was, such a good girl for letting herself be helped when she needed it.

The first few weeks were a blur of helping her switch to remote learning with her college courses, getting her a new wardrobe, helping her find a new doctor for her prescriptions, and getting her started on HRT. The hardest challenge was helping her be herself. The walls and facades, the personas and lies she had wrapped around who she was to protect herself were hard to peel back, but the results were so rewarding. Helping her choose a new name, something she hadn’t even let herself dream of was such a joy. Getting her used to using and hearing her name and pronouns and seeing the small smiles every time she heard her name made all of it worth it.

You were watching TV the first time she approached you. She asked if she could sit on the couch with you. You told her of course she could, and she didn’t need to ask permission. She nodded mutely and nestled herself into the far end of the couch, resolutely staring at the TV and aggressively squeezing the bear stuffy you had got her. Over the 20 minutes she slowly edged herself closer to you, you assume she’s trying to be casual about it but its very obvious what she’s trying to do.

When she is only a foot away, she mutters something into her plushy and tries to hide herself as much as possible, a rather adorable sight given shes half a foot taller than you. You ask if she could repeat herself, telling her she can take as much time as she wants. You eventually manage to make out something about snuggling and decide to take matters into your own hands. You pull her into you, resting her head on your lap, slowly stroking her hair and rubbing her tummy, feeling her melt into you, letting herself completely relax. As she relaxes into you, you finally whisper to her, “You don’t have to pretend anymore honey. I know it’s so hard to try and be a human but you don’t need to anymore. I can take care of you, lil pup.”

This was the second time she barked in front of you. And the second, and the third, and the fourth and on and on, all the while you continued to pet her and hold her. While this wasn’t the last time she pretended to be human or got too nervous to ask for attention or reassurance or apologized for being such a bother, it was the first time she felt loved.

This would be an awful night imho… 4somes are my max

(XユーザーのShexyoさん: 「bleach https://t.co/GGa7J7xUCd」 / Xから)

*hugs* ^w^

WHAT KINDA CAT ARE YOUR MUTUALS

I REALLY WANNA SIT HERE AMD GO THROUGH TAGGING EVERYONE BUT I HAVE TO GO TO BED NOW SO I’LL DO SO TOMORROW!!!

If they refuse to respect you for who you are they aren’t friends, if they want to keep you in their life they will put aside the “it sounds weird” stuff and learn your new name and your new pronouns and stuff.

I personally have a 3 strike rule, deadname me once I just correct you and move on, twice I correct you and give you the stare, three times and I either throw you out or leave myself and refuse to speak with you till you learn.

If you’re too concerned about how inconvenient it is to learn my name and pronouns you’re not someone I want to be friends with.

It didn’t used to bother me much.

The name thing, I mean. I figured, you know… people need time. Time to adjust, time to relearn, time to forget and relearn again. I gave them that time—generously, patiently. But now I’m at that point where if someone deadnames me, I will correct them. Every time. Again. And again. And again.

Like Tuesday. I was playing Magic with some friends. One of the guys at the table—I’ve known him for years—he’s not mean or malicious, just… a bit slow on the uptake. Not exactly tuned into social cues, bless him. But gods, I’ve never been so close to flipping the table over a name.

Everyone else at the table called me Terra. Naturally. Because that’s my name. But he kept deadnaming me—over and over.

“Hey Deadname, your turn.”

“It’s Terra.”

“Hey Deadname, don’t forget your extra card.”

“It’s Terra.”

Repeat until madness.

By the end of the night, I was massaging my temples, staring up at the ceiling like the answer to why I bothered was written in the damn fluorescent lights. He finally noticed I was upset—and instead of realizing why, he thought it was because he kept killing my commander.

No. No, sweetie. My frustration wasn’t game-based, it was existential.

I finally just… snapped a little. Told him flat-out, “My name is Terra. You’ve been calling me my deadname all night. I’ve been correcting you all night.”

And he blinked at me, confused, and said, “Sorry. I forgot.”

I slumped back. Like, girl, really? You forgot?

My other two friends leaned in from opposite ends of the table, bless their sassy little souls, and said, “Dude… we’ve been calling her Terra this whole night.”

And he just shrugged. Said he didn’t get it, but he just wanted to play Magic.

And I guess that’s what stings, doesn’t it? That I’m not important enough in his head to remember. That I’m background noise. A name that just doesn’t click, because his desire to play cards outweighs my need to be seen.

But I will keep correcting people. I will keep saying “It’s Terra.” Because every time I do, I take my name back. I remind myself—and everyone else—that I exist. That I matter. That I’m not going to fade just because someone forgets to look closely enough.

So yeah. It sucks. It drains you. But we don’t owe anyone our silence. Especially not when we’ve fought so hard to finally hear our name and feel right.

no... and if you i suggest getting a medical professional's opinion

do you get pins and needles at least once a day?

Hallo

god autistic girls are so cute

they can be in a gay relationship all they want... i think they're both equally stupid pokemon...

in honor of the recent news and fan reaction

edit: added alt text

the illuminati symbol is just an old freemason symbol (a group of bikers that also happen to be stonemasons)

Do you think there's a possibility the Illuminati is real?

Ok but actually… she’s stunning, if I saw her in public I wouldn’t know she was trans, I’d be more likely to assume she was a cis woman… and that’s why terf’s are scared… because we have the ability to be more beautiful, more secure in ourselves and more comfortable in our skin than any of them, yes it takes work, but hard work almost always pays off… if you don’t work on yourself you will never be happy with yourself, so no matter how hard it may seem or how much you don’t want to put effort into something you deem unworthy of effort, you’re worthy and it’ll get easier the more you do it. if you’re not ready that’s fine, you’re still valid, and I know when you’re ready you’ll succeed.

:3

Yall wanna see cope the likes nobody has ever seen?