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So yes that’s true but none of them fit and that’s the issue at hand. I know who I am but I fear judgement from my own community enough to not be myself

I love (fucking hate) being transgender because yes I am trans. Yes queer. Tis I the tranny. I use she they pronouns yet I am still 100% no gender. I’m not boy not girl not anything I simply am. I’m the bit. I am the devil incarnate. I’m a dog and I’m messy running eyeliner in a bar bathroom with coke still on the counter. My gender is explained in aestheticized images of the idealized version of myself and my trauma. I wanna call myself two spirit but I’m not native enough for that. So I’m just lost :(

My favorite thing about this is that all of these insults are things I can only describe as “something papa said on the phone once right before nonna found out he had tattoos” and 100% google translated

i like it when italian italians get mad at italian americans for calling themselves italian

Absolute w bag I made at my second sewing and mending club. There’s also a key loop and a mini bag on the inside!

My male budgie just died and now we have a single female, she’s seeming depressed and bored.. how can I help her?

ASK CHAT GPT??? I WOULD NEVER. I will be asking my local autistic transgender like god intended. Perhaps I’ll send a letter to the gay pope if I’m feeling silly.

THIS IS SO REAL. FUCK IT IDC HOW HOT HE IS HES POLITICALLY CORRECT. GO LICK *HIS* BOOT, NOT COPS BOOTS. COME ONN NOW

Love having an autistic family. We got my audhd dad, Mr “I’m not autistic, I understand social cues. I’m a salesman”, my stepmom, Mrs “I’m not neurodivergent and ALSO my stuff always has to be clean. Autism is in vaccines. I’m obsessive about cleanliness and cry when the house isn’t spotless”, my brother (average ADHD 9 year old) and my sister, (autistic as shit) and then me. I guess we can count my mom but she’s just bipolar and hates me. Oh and then there’s me! I read the whole dsm in math class instead of listening and still passed the class!

It’s my blog and I repost what I WANT

He laughs, the cocky fucker actually laughs as he gets the upper hand over Frank, almost knocking all the air from his lungs in shock as he shoves the bigger man hard up against the hallway wall.

The taste of those smirking lips is still riotously fresh on his own as Frank grabs a brief breath, his brain still trying to catch up and comprehend what was happening. The Devil of goddamn Hell's Kitchen is pushing him around, spreading him open, touching and feeling with ungloved hands and a hungry mouth and Frank is letting him, because- because...

"Red, Red..." Frank's strained voice is a surprise even to himself, the way it sounds so desperate in his confusion as the other man has fingers gripping firmly around his jaw as his tongue flicks up the side of his neck, following the line of Frank's jugular vein. He's never felt so weak.

Their bodies couldn't be any closer, even when they were kicking lumps out of each other before, Frank could never have imagined how welcome the pressure and friction of this particular pain in the ass of an altar boy could be. Frank hisses as Red shifts slightly to get his teeth involved, the thick crimson Kevlar of that perfectly fitting suit not preventing him from feeling the heat of his body through it. The Devil leans in, as if reading Frank's very thoughts, forcing his thick thigh between Frank's already spread legs.

"Fuck!" Frank grits out, and Red actually has the gall to shh-shh-shh him before raking the edge of his teeth along the skin of his neck. He can feel that wicked smile seeping into bones. Frank's head snaps back against the wall in submission, the only fight left in him is to make sure this is happening, to reach out his arms and not let him stop.

The broken light down the hall flickers, silhouetting the sharp, curved points of the helmet Red's still wearing. Frank grabs hold of it, he wants that taste again, he needs to feel that sure way Red slips his tongue against his like it's nothing, like there was never any line crossed, like it didn't matter if they couldn't go back to the way it was before.

💜 Pls reblog fics you like 💜

I propose: A Thunderbolts* chef au fic where they all work in the same kitchen and none of them like each other

John yells at everyone carmy from the bear style while Yelena is desperately trying to keep the kitchen in working order.

And of course, Bob is a busser and Mel is a hostess