halfboxgorl
halfboxgorl
Maddy 🏳️‍⚧️
2K posts
Meowdy :3 I'm Maddy (she/they(26) just a transfem doing her best in this capitist hellscape. Maybe a median system? minors DNI 🐾Kitty 🪖 Scarlet 🪴 Charolette
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
halfboxgorl ¡ 6 hours ago
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It's fun reading writers who clearly grew up in suburban/urban environments as someone who grew up on a farm because they're always like "oh it was so creepy, woods at night, eerily breathtaking, something was living in there..." and it's like yeah that'll be the deer.
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halfboxgorl ¡ 1 day ago
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halfboxgorl ¡ 1 day ago
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reblog to headbutt previous blog like a kittie cat 🐾 miauw mau meow
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halfboxgorl ¡ 1 day ago
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halfboxgorl ¡ 1 day ago
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halfboxgorl ¡ 1 day ago
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halfboxgorl ¡ 5 days ago
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The reality of being Indigenous in so called Canada
• Indigenous women and girls make up 50% of human trafficking victims, while only making up about 2% of the population.¹
•If the territory of Nunavut was an independent country it would have the highest suicide rate in the world (135 per 100,000, which is 10x the canadian average)²
•Despite Calgary having a fairly low crime rate the Calgary Police kill more people than any other police force in Canada. In 2018 CPS killed more people than the police forces of Winnipeg, Vancouver, Ottawa, Toronto and Edmonton combined. ASIRT, the provincial police watchdog, has never charged an officer for these murders. If you control for population, the rate of civilians killed in Calgary by police is 8 times higher than in New York City. ³
•Between August 30th and December 14th 2024, 15 Indigenous people were killed by police in Canada. 15 people in under 4 months. Because Canada does not collect data on victims of police violence it's difficult to know exact numbers, but it's estimated that Indigenous people make up 16% of police killings, while only making up 4.1% of the population. Indigenous people are killed by police at a rate 10x higher than white canadians.⁴
•28% of people federally incarcerated are Indigenous. This number is as high as 40% in women's prisons. Indigenous women are incarcerated at a rate 12.5x higher than non Indigenous women. ⁵
•29 reserves in Canada are under drinking water advisories. Some of these advisories have been in place for more than 25 years. ⁶
•53.8% of kids in the foster care system are Indigenous. In the province I live in (Alberta) that number is more than 70%. ⁷
• 7% of non Indigenous Canadian children live in poverty. 38% of Indigenous children in Canada live in poverty. ⁷
Canada is not America-lite. Canada is not America's polite northern neighbour. Canada has its own brutal colonial history, and sits on forcibly occupied Indigenous land.
Sources:
š https://open.alberta.ca/dataset/f75a4af6-cb87-4796-afa7-02c15c861241/resource/c21f2213-09d4-4fab-b55a-9e91f1bb44f5/download/jsg-reading-stone-survivors-lens-human-trafficking-2022-06.pdf
² https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC4501584/
Âł https://www.projectcalgary.org/d2f_track_record
https://www.cbc.ca/cbcdocspov/episodes/above-the-law
⁴
https://www.aptnnews.ca/investigates/deadly-force-an-inside-look-at-the-police-involved-deaths-of-2024/
https://newsroom.carleton.ca/story/police-involved-deaths-canada-rise/
⁾
https://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/rp-pr/jr/oip-cjs/p3.html
⁜
https://canadians.org/fn-water/
⁡
https://www.sac-isc.gc.ca/eng/1541187352297/1541187392851
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halfboxgorl ¡ 5 days ago
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fully clothed but barefoot is a different sort of naked. alt-naked
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halfboxgorl ¡ 6 days ago
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god forbit a woman talks about how men have it easier than her huh?
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halfboxgorl ¡ 6 days ago
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halfboxgorl ¡ 7 days ago
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parent: my son is fine
excuse me, but your daughter is starting to idolize the idea of being a plant’s pet
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halfboxgorl ¡ 12 days ago
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I actually snapped for the first time yesterday and swore both my friends.
So, as most of you know, I go by Terra now—and I’ve been doing so for over three months. I've been patient, I’ve given people time to adjust, and I haven’t pushed hard about it, because I understand change takes a moment.
But yesterday… I hit a wall.
I was working, and things were busy. I was teaching two new players how to play Magic, helping a kid constantly pestering me for Pokémon cards from the store folder, checking in everyone for a yu gi oh tournament, sorting out entries, and bouncing between all of that while also helping with snacks, drinks, and product sales. On top of it, a friend had come to the store just to trade me two cards—but they ended up getting swarmed by my two friends let's just go with Tim and Dale, who were trying to get trades off them too.
So yeah. It was a lot.
But the part that really broke me?
While I was juggling all of this, Tim and Dale kept calling me "Deadname"—over and over again. Like:
"Hey Deadname, can I check your file?"
"Deadname, did you bring your Final Fantasy stuff?"
"Deadname, wanna pod up for a game?"
I kept my cool, but it didn’t stop. It was so constant that even John, who knows me as Terra, got confused and started calling me Deadname too. Then he paused and literally asked, “Wait—I know them as Terra? Why do you keep calling them Deadname?”
And Tim and Dale casually said. “Umm, that’s because it's his name.”
That’s when I snapped.
I said—loudly—“For fuck’s sake, my name is fucking Terra. Get it right—I won’t be asking again.”
And Dale? He had the audacity to say:
“Wait, you’re still doing that?”
And I just stared at him and said,
“Of course I’m still fucking doing it. I’ve been going by Terra for almost three months now, and it hurts that neither of you have made a single ounce of effort to even learn or remember my name.”
John just nodded, like it finally clicked, and went back to shuffling his Magic deck. But gods… that moment stung more than I can explain.
Both Tim didn't make eye contact or attempt to speak to me the rest of the day, except for Dale who appolagised and called me Terra the rest of the day.
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halfboxgorl ¡ 14 days ago
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Just a Silly Little Vampire Love Story.
A tiny apartment draped in blackout curtains and soft, thrifted quilts. Fairy lights barely flicker above, casting shadows on walls covered in dried flowers, pinned moths, and Polaroids of sleepy mornings. At the center of it all: a chronically exhausted vampire girl—trans, of course—with dark, sunken eyes and oversized band t-shirts that hang off her like draped sadness. She’s beautiful in that crumpled, tragic sort of way. Always cold to the touch. Always a little too quiet until she’s curled up in someone’s lap.
She can’t stand for too long without swaying like she’s about to faint, and if you ask her why she won’t just go to the blood bank, she’ll give you that look.
“It’s too bright. There are too many people. And they never flavor it with estrogen.”
Yes—this vampire girl can’t synthesize estrogen properly. Something about her being a vampire doesn't let her absorb it through pills or patches. The only thing that works is estrogen-rich blood.
So her roommate—also trans, soft butch with an undercut and a deeply flusterable smile—doubles her own dose without a second thought. It was supposed to be temporary, just a solution until they could figure something out.
But temporary turned into a routine.
Now, most nights, when the apartment is quiet and the stars hang heavy behind the curtains, the vampire girl pads over in her socks, eyes wide, fangs just barely peeking out.
“Baby…” she’ll whisper, voice cracking from thirst and shyness. “Can I have a sip? Please?”
The other girl sighs—fond, already pulling her shirt to the side to expose a shoulder absolutely riddled with delicate bite marks.
“C’mere, leech.”
The vampire practically melts into her lap, mumbling “thank you, thank you, thank you” over and over like a prayer between soft kisses to her collarbone before sinking her fangs in with a blissed-out moan.
The moment her lips touch skin, it’s like something flips inside her. Her tired limbs go heavy and limp, her hips shift like she’s forgetting where she ends and her partner begins. She lets out that soft, dreamy “mhm mhm” sound, nodding as she drinks like she’s her everything in the world is right.
And her roommate? She pretends to roll her eyes but is already carding fingers through tangled hair, sighing contentedly as heat rises in her cheeks.
“You’re lucky I like being bitten,” she murmurs.
“No,” the vampire replies with a dazed smile, licking her lips, “I’m lucky you love me.”
They stay like that—tangled, bleeding, blushing—until the vampire dozes off mid-snuggle, warm for once and wrapped around the only girl she’ll ever feed from.
It’s not a scary kind of hunger. It’s domestic. Intimate. A little queer and a little weird.
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halfboxgorl ¡ 15 days ago
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tgirl tops with estrogenized dicks that use a strap
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halfboxgorl ¡ 15 days ago
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What if we just cuddled on the couch together
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halfboxgorl ¡ 16 days ago
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halfboxgorl ¡ 16 days ago
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having sex and doing bits in bed kind of morning
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