Queer aiir

Simple really.

But nothing was ever simple when she was involved.

You were a totally open book to her, unable to hide anything and completely, utterly, head over heels for her.

You knew your limits so when she asked if you wanted to join her and her friends for a poker night you were wary, you knew you'd lose, and badly, but an evening with her was worth it so you came along.

But when you got there, she revealed the catch, it wasn't just regular poker, it was strip poker. A chance to see her in her underwear or less was within your grasp, and all you had to do was lock in and play cards like you never had before.

And you did, you played like you'd never even heard of the game.

And before you knew it you were down to your underwear, your opponents having lost only a sweater or at most a pair of jeans.

And she hadn't lost a single hand.

But then you had your break, you had a straight, surely this would be your chance to get back on top, you bet it all, risking full nudity in front of your crush and her friends.

And then she showed her hand.

A Royal Straight Super Flush Deluxe with a Four of a kind kicker.

There was nothing you could do, other than strip.

But she offered you a way out, and a way to keep playing, and it even meant you could wear clothes again.

They would just have to be the clothes she picked out.

You didn't like the idea but you didn't like being naked either so you played along once again, at least this meant you still had a chance to see her strip too.

So you played, and being naked and anxious didn't help your already substandard skills so of course, once again you started to lose.

And every time you lost the girls picked something out for you to wear

They worked from the basics up, starting with a sexy lingerie set, then a cute little miniskirt and tight fitting crop top.

But as they dressed you, something strange happened.

You felt bolder, more confident, more sure of yourself, and you started winning some hands, even causing your crush to lose her top.

It went both directions for a while, the girls did your makeup, picked you out some stockings, even a cute pair of kitten heels, suspiciously perfectly in your size but you got a few hands off them, getting them to remove skirts and blouses, leggings and one girl even took off her bra.

But eventually it came down to you and your crush, and once again she knocked you out, but it had been fun and you had gotten to see her in her lingerie, even if the cost had been her getting to see you in her lingerie too.

But when you asked for your clothes back so you could head home, she looked confused.

She won those clothes. They were hers now and you weren't getting them back.

But she assured you it was okay, you could keep the ones you were wearing for your journey home, after all...

sleep apnea is more common in people who are fat.

society decided for some reason that this meant that being fat causes sleep apnea. its often difficult to get referrals for sleep apnea treatment if you are fat, because some PCPs will tell you try losing weight first.

turns out!! having untreated sleep apnea causes weight gain in a not-insignificant number of people. it also makes it fucking impossible for many people to lose weight.

my husband worked out the same amount before he got a cpap as he does now. there have been no major diet changes either. yet he has been losing weight -- and gaining muscle tone -- consistently since he started using a cpap in january.

also, his blood pressure -- which was high, which docs blamed on his weight/diet -- went down significantly within one month of starting cpap treatment, before his weight changed significantly.

ANYWAYS. this is getting long. two final thoughts.

- I Want To Strangle Medical Fatphobia With My Bare Fucking Hands

they had a post dated from very early on during this whole charade where they laid out their motivations, monologued about how much they hated me, talked about knowing how to push all of transfems' buttons because they used to dom us, said it's misogynistic for us to transition, talked about how gratifying it was to see us hurting the way they had, talked about being no longer trans but not detrans either(?), and said they were more or less close to peaking and siding with radfems

so that's that, lol. many of the posts from the secret sideblog were archived on @tmvparchive if you'd like to check them out

For trans women this is a Tuesday

I had a someone so singularly obsessed with me for most of 2023 and 2024 that they made an instagram profile pretending to be me under the name "Emily Markerz" where they used selfies of me that I posted on twitter and pretended to be a pedophile. They even badly photoshopped a selfie of mine to make my chin bigger and squarer and said it was a "before ffs" photo. Lmao

Right now I've got someone who keeps making alts to repost the same post of mine with commenta like "you should be raped", various ways of saying I deserve to be "shot in the head," and even just the word "whore."

Most trans women have to put up with this shit. And its not exclusive to social media. We deal with the same level of malicious obsession in real life.

using myself as an example, im transfem and face transphobia, misogyny, and transmisogyny because of that. but im also white, and the privilege i have from that isnt erased by the fact im also an oppressed minority.

It's physically painful just breathing the air inside, and their fluorescent lights make it feel as if it's overcast indoors. Inside a WalMart or a Target feels like you're constantly about to get a headache. Another hour of time vanishes the second you walk inside. When did you go there? It doesn't matter, the sun is always setting.

The aisles are so long! There's so much stuff! And it's... all the same stuff. The aisles aren't accommodating variety, they're so you can have 30 different coffee brands, a hundred different shampoos, a dozen colors of energy drink. Your life slowly trickles away while you try and figure out if a dollar a pound or a buck fifty per 10 grams is cheaper overall. Next week it'll be different prices and you have to do it again. You look at three different brightly colored packages of butter and buy the cheapest one anyway because that's what you're in there for. Walk through the clothes, because you're tired of having just ten shirts, and forty-five minutes later you find one sort of okay graphic t-shirt and you can't spend the $25 on it anyway, because people gotta eat here. Everything is a hundred feet away from every other thing you need, you're fucked if you're even a little disabled. You can stare at expensive appliances you can't afford, a hundred different frying pans you just kinda want for no reason, a $600 vacuum cleaner and the damnable thing over all of it is that I know for a fact those all come outta the same factories and use the exact same six colors and flavors. Not in a grouchy old person way, in that it's my profession, it means I'm constantly aware this football field packed with billions of brands is a single monolith with an illusion that's nothing more than the repeating pattern on the wallpaper in an old toilet stall of a hotel room that inexplicably feels like home. And the sun is setting anyway.

what if we kissed in the library

It can also be found on Google Drive here and on Bluesky here.