Hey, Uh, I've Been Thinking About My Own Gender Identity. I Realized That Cis People Still Care About

discussing gender with trans people will have u unlocking skills and key items. will have u needing a working understanding of performativity, familiarity with the lesser key of solomon, a reasonably sized bag of ketamine, the first four sonic the hedgehog games, rhythm game competency (esoteric), a degree in entomology, lapsed faith, a mcdouble, a collar, etc

I want to be turned into a haunting echo of myself, just slightly out of tune. All my values, desires, and ambitions twisted to suit another's end. Yet, I also want them to still remain. That way, when people who knew me before encounter me again, they are reminded of the ghost I once was.

I assure them, of course, that I'm far happier like this.

GOOD GIRL?!? GOOD GIRL?!?! what are you trying to do, make my day, huh? make me feel valued and respected? make me blush and smile like like an absolute fool, huhl?!? well it worked

So my family has a Gay Pirate Plate.

Stay with me.

We do not know how the hell the Gay Pirate Plate was first acquired. This being a point of contention is actually pretty plot-relevant; the saga of the Gay Pirate Plate began with my grandmother and her sister, who, for some ungodly reason, both BADLY wanted the Gay Pirate Plate and believed it to be rightfully theirs.

I should back up, firstly, to establish: The Gay Pirate Plate is the cheapest, tackiest, ugliest plate in existence.

It is in no way a collector’s item. It is physically impossible for it to complement anyone’s decor, because the colors in it are garish. It’s just a ceramic plate with a gay pirate painted on it, and the painting is, this cannot be emphasized enough, extremely bad.

(How do we know the pirate is gay if he’s just posing on a plate? Listen. Fully 100% to stereotype, but he is. He is gay. There’s an energy. That pirate is a flaming homosexual. That pirate has sex with men and does it frequently. That pirate is fucking gay, all right, he just is.)

Anyway. The point is that this is an extremely cheap and ugly plate with a poorly-executed painting of pirate on it who is like a nine on the Kinsey scale.

My grandmother and her sister fought a blood feud over this plate for their entire lives. It would be on the wall in my grandma’s house, and then her sister would visit, and then it would be gone. She’d visit her sister and the plate would be on the wall and her sister would pretend it had always been there. She would steal it back, hang it up, and, when her sister visited, pretend it had always been there. This continued for DECADES.

When the sister died, the Gay Pirate Plate lived triumphantly in my grandmother’s house. And then my grandmother died. And my aunt, who had lived with her and been her carer throughout her life, rightfully inherited their house.

We visit my aunt after the funeral and stay with her for a week or two.

Me, my sister, and our dad. Her brother.

The three of us look at each other. We don’t say anything. We studiously avoid making eye contact with the Gay Pirate Plate mounted proud and ugly on the wall. We notice one another studiously avoiding looking at it. We notice one another noticing. We say nothing. We come to a silent consensus. We pack up to leave. We get in the van. Our aunt comes out to say goodbye. I loudly announce I need to use the restroom before we leave. She obviously stays outside to continue talking to my dad.

I take down the Gay Pirate Plate, stuff it under my oversized sweatshirt, go outside, and get in the van. She happily waves goodbye as we drive off.

Two days later my dad gets a phone call that opens with hysterical laughter and “You FUCKING ASSHOLE did you seriously STEAL THE PLATE–”

Anyway. The gay pirate plate lives in my dad’s house currently.

But he’s trying to get me and my sister out to visit him. And plate mounts are cheap.

Having narratively symbolic sex with my red and blue partners.

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actually supervillains with kid hero nemeses are hysterical bc if i was a billionaire and i found out the kid who was also my nemesis was a preteen orphan i would simply adopt them. oh you’re going to stop my nefarious schemes? how when you’re grounded. go to your room

its (serve your) maid day

Op... You've been doing this for two years. Get some help.

>>LINK<<

as of right fucking now i have officially finished copying over every bit of dialogue from hiveswap, the friendsim, and yes, even homestuck. 

clicking on each character will bring you to their file on google drive with documents containing their sign and every conversation they’ve had, organized by who they were speaking to. 

go nuts :) 

[all sprites drawn by the amazing @hiveswapministrifes! thanks so much!]

i really dislike it when people don’t understand perfectionism.

like, it isn’t always “person who has tons of motivation and spends a ton of time making this thing *just* right”

wayyyyyy more often than not it’s:

”I know that if I try to make this thing, it won’t be perfect, so I simply won’t try.”

which definitely sounds bad, right? but when you realize that it doesn’t just apply to voluntarily making art, then you realize how perfectionism is not at all a good thing in any context. 

“i know that if I try to work on this assignment right now, it won’t be good enough, so i’ll wait until the last possible moment so that I have something forcing me to do it.”

”i know that I should start going to the gym, but I won’t see any improvement right away, so I just won’t.”

”i know that i should brush my teeth tonight, but that won’t be good enough to undo the fact that i haven’t brushed them 4 days in a row, so I just won’t.”

perfectionism isn’t the uncontrollable impulse to make things “just right”. (although it can occasionally manifest as this.)

perfectionism is the absolute, psychological inability to accept the concepts of “good enough” and “better than nothing”. even when you spell it out for yourself in a long text post like this.