Cynful Cynthia’s Domain

me finding out my mutual is one inch taller than me

Put your height in the tags

i accidentally poked the power button oops

*does it again*

*Brrrrrrrrrrrr*

Hi, hello, thanks for the reset, I rly needed it! ^_^

Fuck the person you reblog this from, reblog to give YOURSELF bigger tits!

I personally see myself as being judged as not good queer rep, as aroace who dates, "feminine" trans, "emotionless" trope, alien/robot/outsider coded, etc.

This poll is because i am often thinking about characters that are considered bad rep, but I know people in real life are LIKE THAT and identity is messy! In my opnion bad queer rep would be the ones that are shown or touched upon on screen. Idk, just wondering.

Edit: lmao i wrote hood isntead of good and tumblr didnt let me edit

transfem w/ the big scary Problematic kinks, ugly side of mental illness and neurodivergence, diy hormones, desire to remain visibly transfem, descriptive slurs, polyamorous, will show frustration and rage at times, Loud and Opinionated when I have the strength... and more besides. I don't even make good trans rep, let alone general queer rep.

but I am authentic. I strive to live in kindness and take no shit

Lol what a lot of people consider good queer rep is unobtainable in real life, a white washed scrubbed clean version of what it is to be queer. I certainly wouldn't be considered that, I'm an older trans woman dating two younger trans women and I feel like people would immediately jump on that despite the fact that it's yaknow, normal. I also have the weird kinks, I'm a furry and therian, poly, I don't plan on having bottom surgery.

The list goes on.

I’d definitely be judged for being overly focused on sexuality and relationships, centering my queer identity to my life, and my age gap relationship. My use of slurs, open reliance on other for certain things, and being an abuse victim would be probably be considered troublesome and cliche, too.

Teasing a cute sub and trying out different phrases until I stumbled upon "you're safe now" and they audibly moaned and started shaking. Did it again while hushing them and petting their head, stroking their back, and they dissolved into an incoherent, crying, dripping mess that needed to cum so, so, so bad that they didn't know words anymore. Softly encouraged them to let it all out safe in my arms, how precious and good they are for me, what a perfect little toy, until they came so hard, they just went blissfully nonverbal for awhile. I'm different now 👍

This post is among my top ones, so I'm speaking it into being, creating this energy via vibes, using my mind powers, etc. to make this real for all of you in the coming new year 🙏 May you have heart-rending, cathartic, ecstatic release while safe in your lover's arms ✨💝

There’s nothing more important in this world than finding people who get you. Not just in a casual way, but in the deep, unspoken way that only another trans person can. The kind of friend who knows what it feels like to stare in the mirror and not recognize yourself, to fight against a body that feels like it’s never fully been yours, to carry the weight of every doubt and every cruel thought that tells you you’ll never be enough.

And on the bad days—the really bad ones—that’s when having someone like that matters the most. Because when I feel like I’m slipping, when the dysphoria sinks its claws into me and whispers that I’ll never get there, that I’ll always be stuck in between, I don’t need someone to give me empty reassurances. I don’t need someone to tell me “it’ll be okay” when they’ve never felt this kind of ache in their bones. I need a friend who knows. Someone who can just be there, who will sit beside me in silence until I’m ready to speak, or hold my hand without making a big deal out of it. Someone who doesn’t try to fix me because they know I’m not broken.

And finding those people? It’s everything. Because before, I thought I was alone. I thought no one else felt the way I did, that maybe I was wrong for even wanting this. But then I met them—the ones who had been through it too, the ones who had the same struggles and the same fears. And suddenly, the weight wasn’t quite as heavy. The road wasn’t quite as lonely.

So if you don’t have that friend yet, I promise you, they’re out there. Someone who will hold space for you when you can’t hold it for yourself. Someone who will remind you, on the worst days, that you do belong. That you are real. That you are enough.

we as trans women need to have real solidarity, not the kind you post abt then turn around and let every other tranny you've pushed out of your life end up destitute, i really feel like i'm the only one actually trying so hard

i'm sorry if you broke up, i'm sorry if you have your differences, i'm sorry if you don't like her, if she would be homeless or hungry or unsafe without help, and you have the capacity to help, YOU ARE GOING TO HELP HER. nobody else will help us survive our terrible situations and we are so so likely to be stuck in those situations than anyone else. especially with your black and brown sisters YOU ARE GOING TO HELP OTHER TRANSFEMS, or else i'm not going to believe you when you post about how we're all one big tgirl family

to all the girls and transfems who have seen the bare face of this disregard, you deserve better, you deserve more. you should've had people helping you and defending you and being there for you. it's tragedy that they weren't and it Should change. you aren't something too broken or unloved to be part of this mythical family some girls talk about. you do belong and you are worth keeping safe and sound, and if nobody realizes that and it makes you want to scream do it as loud as you can until those of us who actually care about having a community can find one another

The hottest thing a woman can be is unfuckable

self destruction really is such a fascinating human response to various factors both external and internal. what if sisyphus could leave at any time but kept rolling the boulder up the hill just to watch it roll back down anyway. what if he kept pushing it even as the rock cut into his palms and his legs began to ache with the desire to rest for even a moment and his body became a canvas of bruises and cuts that never have time to heal. what if he did it because it's the only thing he knows how to do. the only thing that gives him a sense of certainty and control in a world that takes both and offers neither.

& needless to say this trait is a lot more fun to observe in fiction than it is in you. or your mother.

Just watched Nico Robin’s backstory, am inconsolable

Yeah I’ve got a perfect understanding of the Dunning-Kruger effect