LET'S GO CREEPING!

reminder to all disabled people that you’re allowed to tell people “i can’t do that” about stuff you can ‘technically’ do but which harms you or requires a period of recovery or preparatory rest etc. you don’t have to explain the complex nuances of your condition to anybody who demands it. i’ve found it’s honestly better to give the least amount of info about your symptoms unless you trust a person a lot. you hold the power over your health information. you choose whether or not to share the details of your condition with people who might not understand.

Eva Stratt does NOT need a redemption arc. Eva Stratt did EVERYTHING WRONG so that no-one else would have to. Her hands are permanently stained with blood so humanity gets to keep on living.

Dahling you simply must read this book! It’s all about this devious little caterpillar who simply gorges himself on all manner of divine things

oh so when other people call a baby "cute enough to eat" it's sweet and charming. but when i, cronus,

help I’m having ideas beyond my available free time

help I'm having ideas beyond my available energy levels

how to become retroactively 10 years on estrogen

yeah whatever the second best time to plant a tree is now there is always time it's never too late etc etc. but also like half of my problems ultimately trace back to "there was never a chance in hell of me getting on estrogen early enough to avoid the damage testosterone did to me" and I'm allowed to be upset or atleast miffed about it

oh you figured it out too late? Well that's a moot point really because your family would've been unaccepting at the time and your country's medical system's method of trans healthcare is "waste as much time as possible in the hopes they detransition or die" so like yeah no matter what it was kinda inevitable you'd have broad shoulders narrow hips and have to spend a bunch of money on laser

and like yeah whatever cis women have those too, I'm #fucking valid or whatever. shut uppp I don't caaaaaaare. I don't need to be welcomed to womanhood. I don't need reassurance that clocky girls are valid. I don't even care about passing that much I just want to look in the mirror without being upset. can I have that. can I fucking mourn. can I be a little pissed off and sad that I have to deal with this? can you fucking handle that without shutting me down and telling me I'm wrong to feel dysphoria about anything in the first place?

Felt every single word of this right down in my tired, tired bones.

Victor Frankenstein after achieving the impossible and building a fucking person from scraps of the dead: Oh god, ew, ew it's ugly! Yucky! Yucky! Gross! Ew! Ew! Yucky! Yucky! Gross! Ew!