I feel like... Perhaps... Arguing that transphobia is defined by murder and that anything other than murder doesn't even matter... May NOT be conducive to fighting for trans rights.
Like... people want the right to exist as they are. They want to have access to hrt and surgeries and prosthetics. People want access to clothes that fit them and reflect how they want to be seen. People want access to medical care (eg. Getting screened and treated for sex-based forms of cancer can be impossible if you have the "wrong" sex listed to receive those tests). People want to be respected and treated well. People want to not be sexually assaulted and beaten and abused. People want to have access to housing and jobs, and the protection to not lose those things for being trans. People want access to shelters for homeless people or survivors of domestic abuse. People want name changes.
Acting like all of those things don't matter because at least they weren't murderered by an individual (and instead die of suicide or state violence, or survive and suffer) isn't okay.
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I can't help but adore that there are not one, not two, but six gods of death in FR lore!
Like...
God of Death
In pretty okay grim reaper way
God of Death
In bloody stabby stab way
God of Death
In dominant daddy bbc way
God of Death
In chaotic stupid bullshit way
God of Death
In fair unbiased judge way
God of Death
In insidious alien insect mummy way
They warms my dark soul in an inexplicable way :3
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Mom picked up a cold the second to the last day of our trip. I did everything I could not to get it, but here we are. So compound jetlag with a head cold. I am so tired and so sick. Today is gonna be a great day.
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Something about horrors beyond your comprehension laying dormant under the mask, until it wakes, hissing and stirring-- demanding to be let out. Reaching as far as it can go. Sinking its teeth as deep as it can. Not to eat. Not to play. Lashing out. Overwhelmed. Hurt. Scared. Angry.
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for: anyone | @vievecorcitystarters | ghost festival event
location: The City Park
The 'Buns on wheels' was parked in a strategic spot in Vievecor City Park. Strategic, not in the business sense, but in the sense that Gabbie could potentially smoke a joint between serving customers. But, as luck would have it, someone actually decided to come up to the food truck and order something.
The redhead pulled back her hair, leaned forward on the counter and flashed a stiffly polite smile. "The menu s' right there if you're going to order something."
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All I did on the last date I was on was infodump about fucked up Ghost Type Pokemon lore. Maybe that’s why that guy never called me back.
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