Under Transfem Supremacist Communism The Sleepy Tgirls Will Be Placed Into Enormous Cuddle Piles Where

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Someone did call us a petting zoo a few days ago. So many animals in that head.

Please consider: Trans girl petting zoo.

Potatoes I guess? Wild

First thing you see after you zoom in is how you die

How you dying 👀

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Neglected children will sometimes go ‘okay time to dangerously deteriorate to see if anyone cares about me’ and then if nobody does, they don’t know how to stop deteriorating on their own, they’ll need help to pick themselves back up.

 And if that help doesn’t arrive, they’ll conclude ‘I was right to destroy myself in a world where nobody cares for me anyway, why should I live at all’ and it sets them on a miserable life path where all they see is chances for self destruction and proof of nobody caring, and from the very start it’s not their fault at all.

Because someone should notice when a kid starts losing themselves and step up and help. Children are not meant to know how to take care of themselves in an environment where they’re neglected, ignored and uncared for. Putting them in such an environment then blaming them for deteriorating is absolutely ridiculous. It takes paying attention and realizing when something is wrong and pulling a kid out of the black hole they’re falling into, before they can no longer crawl their way out on their own. 

It’s not acceptable to let children deal with abandonment and neglect all on their own, and expect them to not grow up miserable, resentful, struggling, and doing harm to themselves. It’s the same harm we never stopped them from doing when they were kids, when they needed to know that someone would care if they’re hurt. If we want functional and healthy adults in the society, we have to notice what is going on with the kids and make sure they’re helped in time. 

it should be socially acceptable to be princess carried everywhere

spiking your drink with estrogen

call that shit “booba tea”

Send a type or two.

Normal: I love you. Fighting: I’d fight you. Flying: I’d date you. Poison: I’m envious of you. Ground: I want to meet you in real life. Rock: I can relate to what you’ve gone through. Bug: You bug me sometimes. Ghost: You scare me sometimes. Steel: I think you’re strong. Fire: I think you’re hot. Water: I think you’re cool. Grass: I think you’ve grown a lot. Electric: You surprise me sometimes. Psychic: We have a lot in common. Ice: I want to be closer to you. Dragon: I think you’re amazing. Dark: I’d fuck you. Fairy: I think you’re cute.

The thing was a mound of flesh and mottled skin, as big as a barn and the shape of a pumpkin. Four tentacles as thick as trees hung limp at its sides; teeth ringed the gaping mouth at the top of its head like a crown.

A huge, sad whale eye the colour of wine stared at the knight. She could see her reflection in the jelly surface.

“We don’t know what it is,” she heard. “Some kind of monster that makes a perfect copy of whatever it eats. They think that was how the Dark Lord made his armies, feeding his minions to it so that it would make hundreds of copies of them. Do you recognize it?”

The knight opened her mouth. She hesitated. “Yeah,” she murmured, drawing out the word. “We found it in the Dark Lord’s tower, right?”

“That’s right. That’s where it ate you.”

The knight turned around and looked at her other reflection. This one appeared to be about ten years older, and had doffed her armor for a loose blue tunic and breeches.

She was holding a cup of tea. She had pressed another cup into the knight’s hand when she woke up here. It had been a shock finding herself suddenly out the obsidian dungeons of the Dark Lord’s tower and into this tall room of stone and straw. The warmth of it in her hands steadied her a bit.

“Everyone else in the party was worried, but then it started making copies of you,” the copy went on, staring up at the tentacled thing. “And all of the copies helped fight against the Dark Lord, and we won, and peace was restored across the land, but then nobody could figure out how to kill the damn thing or just to make it stop. Dozens of copies of us in a day, hundreds in a week, and then someone decided that the only thing we could do is just bring the thing here, seal it off and hope it starved to death.”

She sipped her tea. “Anyways, that was two-hundred years ago and it’s slowed down a bit. It can only make a new copy of us every few weeks now.”

The knight looked down into her tea. The copy had also draped a blanket over her shoulders.

“I have so many questions,” she said.

“I figured.”

“How can it be two-hundred years? I can still remember breaking into the tower. That feels like it was just minutes ago.”

“It was, basically. Your brain is a perfect copy of the original you’s brain at the exact moment she was eaten.”

“But the quest is just — done?”

“Yep. You missed some of the things that needed tying up afterward. There was a war, and a dragon, and some business about a ring.” She waved a hand. “It was before my time. Things are pretty settled now.”

“My parents?”

“Passed away about a hundred-and-fifty years ago. I’ve been told that they were very proud.”

The knight nodded. “Um. I don’t know if you know — we had an elf in our party—”

“I’m aware.”

“I — right. Obviously. Um. It’s just, after everything was done, I was going to ask her—”

“One of us did. She said yes. She outlived her. A couple of us have tried to reach out since then, but she wants to be left alone for a while.”

The knight considered this. “Uh — right,” she said eventually. Her fingers tightened around the tea cup. “Um. What do I do now?”

Her older copy shrugged. She had let her hair grow out again, the knight noticed. There were a few strands of grey against the black. “That’s up to you, I’m afraid,” she said. “A lot of us are finding work as soldiers and sellswords. We’ve done it for so long that most armies know we’re reliable and don’t tend to turn one of us away. Most of us are just sort of spreading out, wandering the world. Some of us keep in touch.”

The knight frowned. “What do you do?”

Her copy paused, tea cup half raised to her lips. “Sorry?”

“You said it only makes a new copy every few weeks now. So you just stay here and wait for a new one to show up?”

She lowered the cup. “Well,” she said. “I guess I just — I know what it can be like, waking up here in the dark, and it — it can be horrible trying to figure all of this out on your own.

“So I thought that what I’d do is just stay here with a pot of tea, and whenever I see myself again, I tell her that — that she’s not alone.”

“We aren’t?”

“Of course not. We’re all in this together, you know.”

When do I get to join a transbian polycule and get passed around between girls?? It's getting very frustrating ngl