irrationalmoony

[irrationalmoony]

"OF LEAVES AND STARS WILL GET ANOTHER CHAPTER!!' I scream as they pull me into a padded room

No. We were clear. Fuck JKR.

[irrationalmoony]

“i asked chat gpt—” yeah well i asked the face of boe and he told me i’m not alone

[irrationalmoony]

We have an AI now! There's an AI! There's AI! It'll do that for you. It can do that for you in a worse way! We have AI now! AI chat bot, we got it! It can know all your information and make an AI response! Is it safe? Is it safe? We don't know. We laid off the workers focused on the safety. They were making it take longer. They were making it take longer than the 2 weeks we spent slapping this together to get our nose out ahead in the rat race. Investors love AI. Investors love when we say "Customers love AI!" Please love it. Please say you love it. It's fine if you don't. We're telling the investors you said you love it. We love it. Our whole company loves it. We laid off everyone who's been at the company for longer than 7 years. They can use AI to write their job applications. We laid off everyone who's been here longer than 5 years. This is such a company #moment 🤗. Our AI can do that for you.

[irrationalmoony]

Ljubljana, Slovenia 1900/10

[irrationalmoony]

You’re not depressed. You just need $250,000 in your bank account.

[irrationalmoony]

some words you can only spell on autopilot. once you stop to think about it you've already lost the fight

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[irrationalmoony]

the gap in my resume is when I was imagining two repressed homos go at it raw. in my brain

[irrationalmoony]

Public outcry make a difference.

Boycotting makes a difference.

We can make a difference.

[irrationalmoony]

feeling deeply emotional about a fic that only exists in my head

[irrationalmoony]

I know we don’t get happily ever afters in real life. I’m a hopeless romantic, not a total fucking idiot. As my friend, Russell, said to me once, “Even with the happiest couples, one of you dies first.” But first there is such unalloyed joy. We went to the supermarket yesterday and we were wandering around and, at one point, he took my hand, because that’s the kind of thing he does. And instantly, I got flustered. Residual anxiety. Remembrance of past battery. Enduring scars. Even though I know I’m hardly likely to get my head kicked in by the salad bar, PDAs can still make me nervous. And then he said, gentle as anything, and I’m not going to do the accent… “If there’s a gay kid in here with his folks, frightened that he’s a freak, don’t you think that it might give him hope, seeing two guys wandering around, being themselves, getting their groceries, like everyone else?” If happiness is a place… it’s the biscuit aisle in Sainsbury’s. And anywhere else I am with him.

[irrationalmoony]

When I'm out in the garage working, Vice gets to tag along and hunt dust bunnies in the garage attic. I pause every so often to call him down, just to make sure he hasn't gotten into trouble.

He always has a Lot to report.

[irrationalmoony]

Sources: Gut, My. Something is Terribly Wrong, vol 136, 2025.

[irrationalmoony]

Because it is the anniversary of his death, I wanted to share a small story about my grandfather.

Before I knew that I was intersex, I identified as a trans man. And I went the way any trans man has to go if he wants to transition in my country. My parents thankfully were supportive but I was afraid to tell my grandparents. My grandparents were German and lived/were raised during the third reich. While both of them never said or acted in a way that suggested that they had fascist views (my grandfather was until he died part of a leftwing political party), but there still was this fear in me. "They are old, they grew up surrounded by abhorrent beliefs...". And then there was my aunt. Who would constantly claim that my grandfather was homophobic.

The problem was, back then, there were no openly out gay people in our area, so I never got the chance to see my grandfather interact with someone who was queer. So I just believed her. Because she was so insistent on it. And because it confirmed my fears and my brain loves to be constantly afraid.

But I knew I wanted to come out. I had to, eventually, because I had stopped my estrogen treatment (back then, I did not know that I got that because I was intersex) and went on testosterone instead and first physical changes began to show. We all lived in one big house, so my grandparents would eventually notice.

I was so afraid that my father at some point offered to talk to his parents. I waited outside in the hallway that led to their kitchen and listened.

My father explained, easy to understand, that I was going to transition from female to male because I felt terrible in my body. My grandfather asked, "Is that why the child* is so depressed all this time?" I had been in and out of multiple clinics for manic depression at that point. My father gave a yes. And my grandmother made the incredibly selfish comment, "Can't that wait until I am dead?"

Before I even got time to be upset, my grandfather slammed his fist down on the table. I had never seen or heard him do anything like that before. He was a very calm and collected man who preferred to leave the room before he got too angry. "No, it can't wait. The child gets to get well now. And if that is what is going to help, then it needs to be done."

From that day on, he never used my deadname again or used the wrong pronouns for me. Sometimes, he would stop in a sentence to think and remind himself, but he did always address me correctly.

He celebrated with me when my name was legally changed. He built the bed frame for me and my boyfriend's bed when we moved in together, just like he had built the first adult sized bedframe for me when I outgrew my small bed. He drove my boyfriend to his chemo sessions because my grandfather also had cancer and knew how terrifying it was to go alone.

Did he fully understand what it means to be intersex? To transition? No. But he understood that one of his loved ones was suffering and that he could help to alleviate that pain. And so he did.

He taught me calligraphy. He taught me how to sew. He taught me bookbinding. He gave me many gifts.

But the biggest gift he gave me was, that when someone hated me for what I am, I could stomach it. Because this man was willing to unlearn the bigotry he had been taught for decades so he could love me for who I am.

*in my grandpa's dialect it was normal to refer to children as just 'the child' (genderless)

EDIT

I was blown away by how many people have reblogged this post. I believe my grandfather would be very happy to see that he can give some hope and love to others even now.

I do not want him to stay faceless; so here is a piece of art I made for his obituary, with a slightly altered quote added now.

Dahlias were his favorite flowers. Orange ones especially. They reminded him of the home he had to flee from as a child.

[irrationalmoony]

It will never not baffle me how hard society tries to insist that fatness is an abnormality. The average western woman wears plus size clothing. One of the smallest garments on the scale is called a medium. Most people with anorexia are in the overweight bmi category, yet somehow that's known as "atypical anorexia". Fatness is often labeled the cause of a number of diseases, but there are literally no diseases exclusive to fat bodies. Looking at movies and television, you'd think the world was 98% thin people. It's not.

My point isn't that if it was pretty rare to be fat, fatphobia would be okay. Of course not.

My point is that we're surrounded by all these artificial indicators that fatness is unnatural and uncommon and it's just not true?? Humans are not always thin and we've never all been thin and we're not all meant to be thin. Fat humans are a normal type of human. Fatness is a feature, not a bug.

[irrationalmoony]

Doctor Who text posts: Fifteen edition – pt. 2

[irrationalmoony]

do you want me to put that fictional man in a situation for you miss