I Figuered It Out, My Gender Is *bites You* *bites You* *bites You* *bites You* *bites You* *bites You*

hey there, the uk government is trying its hardest to make it practically impossible for trans people to transition, here’s a twitter thread and two carrds that further explain the situation (click on the underlined parts for links)

+ only if you are a british citizen or a uk resident please sign this petition that will help reform the Gender Recognition Act to allow trans people to self id w/out need for a medical diagnosis and to allow nonbinary identities to be legally recognized.

if you are NOT a british citizen/live in the uk DO NOT sign the petition as the goverment will use invalid signatures as an excuse to dismiss the petition and the GRA will not be discussed in parliment.

please spread this post, time for trans people in the uk is very quickly running out

“Racists, lgbtqphobes, and exclusionists can get fucked” Another post brought to you by the “let people live their goddamn lives” gang

been seeing this tag on ao3 called “mutually unrequited” and i dont mean to nitpick but like….thats not…..what it means…………..

This map is the most up to date version as of 3-4-2023 and takes into account all recent movement on anti-trans legislation

I identify as a villain because I'm already queer-coded and don't feel like being the quirky best friend who dies for motivation.

Daily Reminder To:

Take your medications that you need to!

Get up, stretch, walk around a bit!

Get some food and water if you haven’t in a while!

Plug in your device!

Feed any pets!

If it’s between 10 pm and 7 am and you have no reason to be awake besides being up on your phone, go to sleep or at least get comfortable and start trying to sleep!

Check around you and stack any dishes and bring them to the kitchen! Including plates, cups, bowls, and utensils!

Do a quick look around and pick up any trash and put it in the bin!

Message anyone to check in on them and yourself! Respond to any messages you may have gotten, answer some asks if need be, let your family know that you’re safe, whatever you need to do!

If you need to and are able to, go take a shower! Or clean your face! Get changed at the very least, put your clothes in the dirty hamper, and feel better about it!

That’s all for now! Good job, I’m proud of you for doing that!

Reblog if you think public libraries are important and should be maintained.

Some of you may not know, but the Pantanal is burning. Pantanal is the world’s biggest tropical wetlands and most biodiverse ecosystems on the planet. It is the home of the biggest sanctuary for the Onça Pintada/Jaguar (Panthera onca). This area is the most damaged by fire in 2020, losing 15% of the biome to the flames.

 So, we need your help, please donate: 

 DONATE TO THE FOREST FIRES COMBAT (SOS PANTANAL WEBSITE)

Pantanal Relief Fund (WEBSITE)

Instituto Arara Azul (LINKTR.EE and WEBSITE)

 And here we have some articles: 

 Wildfires sweep into Brazil park harboring jaguars

Fires destroy home of one of the world’s rarest birds in Brazil 

Fires in Pantanal, world’s largest tropical wetlands, ‘triple’ in 2020 

Burned jaguars and reptiles consumed by flames: Fires rage in Brazil’s wetlands 

In Pictures: Brazil’s Pantanal wetland is on fire

Fighting Fires in the Brazilian Pantanal

The Pantanal: Saving the world’s largest tropical wetland

On a rainy night sometime in October, Martin had a nightmare about killing his husband. Something about the top of a tower Martin didn't recognize, and a dead body on the floor, and a crumbling building. Jon was saying a lot of things he didn't understand, and Martin was shouting a little. They both were crying. Jon handed him the knife, closed his hands around it and guided it towards his chest. 

Martin thought he wouldn't do it, at first. He thought he wouldn't do it. He tried not to do it, his arms stiffening with the motion. And then, as he pushed the knife into Jon's chest, he started begging desperately, silently, to wake up. 

He didn't. He felt every inch of that knife as it pushed into Jon's chest, felt the weight of Jon's punched-out gasp, felt the weight of Jon crumpling in his arms. Felt the tears sliding down his face as he didn't wake up. 

And then he was awake, and he was crying, like it had been real instead of just a horrible dream, intrusive thoughts at their finest making a home in his head. It wasn't real; he knew that. But that didn't stop him from sliding across the mattress, from leaning towards Jon and pressing his face against Jon's shoulder, biting his lip so Jon wouldn't hear him sob. 

Jon woke up. Of course he did. He stirred slowly, shifting against Martin and groping back for his hand until Martin tangled their fingers together, Jon's ring cool between his fingers. "M'rtin?" Jon mumbled sleepily, turning towards him. "What… what's wrong? Are you crying?"

Martin swallowed hard, wiped his eyes with his free hand and said, "Bad… bad dream."

"Oh." Jon pulled his hand up and kissed the back of it, his eyes still mostly closed. "It… it was just a dream, Martin. It's okay."

It's not, Martin wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come. It felt silly to say. It was just a dream. He'd never seen that place in his life; he'd looked different in the dream, and so had Jon, unfamiliar versions of themselves somehow. 

He pressed a free hand over Jon's chest, the place where the scar would've been, if the dream had been real. He said instead, "I hurt you," in a faltering voice, the words almost too awful to say. He kept feeling it, the phantom motion of stabbing Jon. He couldn't get the picture out of his head. The tears welled up again; Martin held his breath to try and hold back a sob.

"Martin," Jon mumbled, sleepily, his eyes still mostly closed. He reached up for Martin, put his arm around Martin's shoulders and pulled him down into his chest. Pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You would never hurt me."

Martin pressed his wet face into Jon's neck and tried with everything in him to believe that, tried to banish the images from his mind. He mumbled I love you, and Jon said it back, and they fell back asleep tangled up on Jon's side of the bed. 

When Martin woke back up in the morning, there was an unfamiliar sound echoing in his mind—something like the whir of a tape recorder.