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Trans woman needs help to leave an abusive home!

My name is Sara and I'm a 19 year old trans woman in need of serious help.

I've been mentally and physically abused all my life by my parents and brother and that continues to this day. I'm trapped and afraid for my life. I can't take it anymore. I've been suicidal since I were a child and it's becoming too much to handle. I can't take this for who knows how many more years, I seriously can't. I feel so miserable living in these conditions and the dysphoria is intolerable. I can't do anything about it whatsoever because my parents are heavily against the lgbtq+ people. It makes me even more suicidal. I'm miserable and desperate.

My parents are keeping me dependent on them and not allowing me to work, making it impossible to escape. I did find an online job but my parents found out I was working in secret and made me quit. This has also made the home situation even worse :( I'm too scared to try to find anything else, especially non online because of the abuse that will follow. I can't do something like that in secret and I can't take the pain again.

For now I just need the money to guarantee my physical and mental safety: to move out to another city and be able to pay rent and food for a couple of months so I can find a job that pays enough to not end up homeless. I also need money for driving lessons and a cheap car so I'm not tied to one place and can go to work if it happens to be a non walkable distance away. Later I'd like to start therapy and transitioning but that's the lowest on my priority list right now, as survival's most important :(

I'm estimating it to come out like this:

- Rent and food for 2 months: ~$2800

- Driving lessons and a cheap car: ~$2100

- Transport to another city: ~$50

Total: ~$4950

I understand these are hard times and not everyone will be in the position to help me out and that's alright. I'm really sorry for having to ask like this :( I just don't know what to do anymore.

If anyone could donate even one kofi ($3) it will be immensely helpful for me to get out of here 🙏🏻 If you can't please please consider reblogging so more people can see this. Thank you very much!

Unfortunately my parents have a hold of my paypal, so I set up a kofi with my friend's paypal so all donations go to her and then she will give them to me. I don't know how paypal donations work and don't wanna trouble my friend too much as even giving me her paypal email was a lot to ask for. Please consider donating on kofi ❤️

You can be anonymous, don't need a profile and don't need a paypal 🙏🏻

Ko-fi

Buy Sara Needs Help a Coffee. ko-fi.com/sarahelp

Become a supporter of Sara Needs Help today! ❤️ Ko-fi lets you support the creators you love with no fees on donations.

I want to take a moment to talk about Trini. Yes, everyone has talked about this and I’m sure that whether or not you care about the Power Rangers reboot, you’ve heard about how the Yellow Ranger is a lesbian. I want to talk about why exactly this is significant, and why how it’s handled is so important.

Power Rangers, as a franchise, has had a history with the LGBT community from the very beginning, but not in a good way. David Yost, who played Billy in Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers, is gay. Not only is he gay, but he ended up leaving the series due to constant harassment and homophobic bullying from the crew of the show. He walked off the set of Power Rangers Zeo and never looked back. The way they wrote his character out of the show? By having Billy fall in love with a woman offscreen. They offered him a part in a later series, but he understandably turned the offer down.

Despite the franchise’s focus on diversity, they’ve never had an explicitly queer ranger, or even supporting character. They’ve certainly hinted at it in a few cases, the most overt case being Vita Rocca in Power Rangers Mystic Force. She was butch, had a two part story about being the slave of a vampire queen, and enthusiastically agreed that said vampire queen is hot at the end of the season, but none of that was actual confirmation. It was just a little bit of winking and nodding when the moral guardians weren’t looking.

But then this movie came out. And we got to see Trini, the first ever Yellow Power Ranger, come out. Contrary to what you may have seen in fanart and fanfiction, Trini isn’t smooth with other girls, she isn’t openly gay, and she isn’t in a canon relationship with the Pink Ranger. I love those pieces of fanwork as much as the next person, but the movie itself provides a different picture of Trini’s relationship with her own sexuality.

Like I said before, for decades Power Rangers has never done more than playfully hint at a queer character. That changed with one scene. All five of the heroes, sitting around a campfire and talking about their personal issues. That scene is the first time the subject of sexuality has ever been openly discussed in Power Rangers.

It’s a scene where Trini, who has been reserved and has tried to isolate herself up until now, admitting that she likes how often her family moves around, because that way her parents never get a chance to ask her about her relationships. Zack, who up until this scene had been relentless in flirting with Trini and hitting on her, no matter how often he was pushed away and rejected, jokingly asks if she has boyfriend troubles. When he picks up the sarcasm in her response, it clicks for him, and for the audience. If you pay attention, Zack never once hits on Trini after that. He understands, and he treats Trini as nothing more than a friend from that point on.

“Girlfriend troubles?” Is the first time I can ever remember the concept of someone being gay being brought up in a superhero movie. Despite gay and bisexual characters being in films before (Iceman, Mystique, Catwoman, Harley Quinn, Wonder Woman, etc.) their sexualities were ignored and pushed to the side, where viewers wouldn’t see them. But with Power Rangers, Saban finally tried to make up for their past treatment of LGBT people. It’s Billy, now played by RJ Cyler, who tells Trini that her friends will accept her no matter what.

And Trini? She admits that she’s never told anyone about her sexuality before. She’s never openly said that she likes other girls. She tears up when she talks about it, about how terrified she is of coming out to her family. How she doesn’t even know how to tell them what’s going on. And with the overwhelming, sickening trend in film and television of murdering lesbian and bisexual characters, Power Rangers ends with a scene of all the Rangers hanging out in detention. The last shot we see of Trini? Smiling at her friends and playing with a pen. Alive. Happy. Healthy. Knowing that her friends are aware she likes girls, and knowing that they’ll always be there for her.

This movie is the first time that lesbian and bisexual women have been able to see themselves as superheroes on the big screen. It’s the focus of Trini’s character arc, finding acceptance among her new friends. So often, LGBT teens end up in a position where they don’t know how to talk about what they’re feeling. They feel trapped and alone, and this movie went and told them that they won’t be. They’ll find people who love and cherish them. There’s a hero who is like them, and who is struggling with her identity just like they are.

I’m not afraid to admit that I cried when Trini came out. I’m sure I wasn’t the only woman who teared up at finally, finally being able to see herself in a superhero. It feels so powerful, and so wonderful.

A Good Old Tale

Inspired by this post and this comic by @meowthefluffy

Notes: Mention of injuries, not graphic but it's there. Not proofread, we die like Twitter.

----------------

Archive of Our Own, known as AO3, is not very sociable. Everyone knows it, even those who stubbornly insist he should be.

But for AO3, working on the Archive and watching millions of writers save their works in the many shelves is more than enough. His work seems tedious to some, but he quite enjoys the repetition of it: tagging works, helping writers place their stories within the shelves and making sure the laws are followed. There’s never a shortage of people with interesting tales to entertain him.

Every now and then, though, one of the more social people walks in, usually with their followers. TikTok, the dancer, and her loud gaggle that needs to be constantly reminded to be silent and not inconvenience anyone. Instagram and her group, who enjoy painting themselves reading the books instead of actually reading. YouTube and their critics, always with a million annotations to take back home.

But two of them always catch AO3’s attention more than the others.

One is Twitter, the most beautiful man in the world—or so he is called. Twitter has light blue hair, fluffy and curly like those of angels, the same shade as the wings out of his back. He dresses in white and light blue, with gold adornments. He is beautiful, with his blue eyes and soft lips that stretch in a brilliant smile. His movements are gracious, as if he’s perpetually dancing. Moreover, he’s a debater of little words, preferring to talk in short and sharp phrases, voice enchanting and subjects too simple.

It is hard to not look at Twitter whenever he is present. If he, somehow, isn’t enough to grab one’s attention, the sheer number of his followers surely is. And their status, as Twitter is known to be followed by kings and nobles and rich merchants and entire guilds.

AO3 has never been much interested in Twitter, however. To him, the best part of the man was his lover, the second person that always catches AO3’s attention.

Tumblr is his name.

Tumblr is beautiful, of a peculiar beauty that not many seemed to appreciate. His hair is a deep, dark shade of blue, and it cascades down his back like tendrils of unspeakable horrors. His eyes, always accompanied by dark bags, are incapable of keeping only one shade of blue, and sometimes they flash something unusual like pink or white. He, too, is beautiful, with his crooked teeth and pointy nose and expressive eyes. He moves clumsily at times, even falling down, but there is no grace equal to his when telling one of his stories, or singing one of his songs, or dancing one of his tunes, or showing one of his paintings. Tumblr is a master of many words, from short one line ballads to the most ungodly litanies, voice like thunder you hear in the distance.

They are lovers.

How they came to be is a tale very few don’t know. Star-crossed lovers, different but so similar, the beautiful orator and the heretical storyteller. Many joked their relationship is the same as a Goddess of Beauty falling for a lowly Court Jester.

AO3 does not see it happen, but many of his customers come tell him.

“Tumblr,” they say in shaky voices, their pins and bands and cloaks and laces a grieving shade of blue, “got beaten almost to death by his King.”

AO3 makes a point to stay within the Archive territory at all times. This time, however, he simply cannot. Not when his friend, who often came with an encouraging smile to his followers and a tale on his tongue, could be dying this exact second. AO3 rushes out as fast as he can, the followers guiding him. They go past the woods and past oasis, only stopping when they reach the Desert of the Forgotten. A shiver goes down his spine, nothing good comes to those who stay at the Desert of the Forgotten.

The followers that are still around are much smaller in numbers, but their intensity as they watch him walk to the hut Tumblr rests in could have fooled him into thinking they were billions.

“Where are the others?”

“There are no others. They followed that man, they abandoned us,” one of the followers snarls, and many others grunt and growl in agreement.

AO3 would have answered, weren’t for the view in front of him.

Tumblr, on a makeshift bed, looking one deep breath away from dissolving into nothingness. His hair had been cut, and AO3 knows that the nice buzzcut was one of his followers’ idea. There’s bandages around his neck, and bandages hold together the bones of his hand, and bandages keep his legs in place. His eyes are covered too, unseen and unseeing.

AO3 cannot stomach the view for long, and the first breath he takes after leaving the stuffy hut is as liberating as it is crushing.

“They hurt his throat so he wouldn’t talk. They blinded him, deafened him, broke his fingers and legs… all so he would stop creating what they didn’t want to see,” the follower explains in a soft voice.

“... will he survive?” he asks. It comes out as a plea.

“He will,” another follower answers, eyes fierce as they approach, dressed in Tumblr blue from head to toe. “We will make sure of it. We will carry him so he can still circulate, he will hold his hands so he can still write. We will make our crafts brighter and brighter until he can see them, and we will sing our songs louder and louder until he can hear them. We will tell him stories every breathing moment, until he’s telling them to us instead.”

Now, AO3 knows of loyalty. The Archive was built on loyalty.

And yet, his breath is taken away by the unanimous agreement.

He returns home with hope.

Months go by. Not one word of Tumblr is heard, and the general populace starts believing he truly is dead. Except AO3 knows better. He sees the deep blues around, walking with pride, socializing with ease, and he knows. He knows Tumblr lives. He has no idea where, but he knows he lives, breathing words into elaborate narratives.

Twitter, meanwhile, grows more and more loved, and he basks on that love without shame. There’s not even a mention of his lover, the lover he left in fear of being dragged down from his golden throne.

Two years after his last visit, someone asks him if he wants to visit Tumblr. He recognizes them as the same follower who came forth with the oath. He agrees without much thought, eager to see the other man after so long.

Now, the follower fills him in as they travel, they all live in the ruins of an abandoned town. The ruler of that territory is kind to them, much kinder, despite still limiting much of their products. Tumblr had recovered fully, and while the scars still cling to him, he can now talk and laugh and see and sing and listen and dance and craft and create and be again. The follower does warn him that Tumblr has become odder. More twisted under the fun bits and stories. Unnerving even. But he is still Tumblr, and they will still follow him loyally.

They reach the village and AO3 is surprised when he sees people wearing a much lighter shade of blue together with the Tumblr blue.

Tumblr is waiting for him in front of a rundown but incredibly colorful house, painted on the colors of the sky. He sits on a small stool and rests his hands and chin on a cane. His hair has grown considerably, like tendrils of dreams beyond imagination, and his eyes shine different shades of Tumblr blue with the occasional white or pink or green or—

“Archive.”

“Tumblr.”

“I lived, bitch.”

AO3 laughs at his friend's irreverence. How could he ever dare doubt this man? How could he ever dare think Tumblr would not spit on Death’s face and walk back to life? He accepts the hand extended to him, and pulls the taller man into a hug. Tumblr smells of the sea, a good match for a man obsessed with crabs, and magic, the type of magic that exists even when magic doesn’t exist.

“I see there are people with his color amongst yours,” AO3 murmurs, bitterness in his heart.

“What right have I to take their home from them?” Tumblr answers, letting go so he can look at AO3’s eyes with that mysterious and forever kind gaze he was once known for. “What matters is not the color they wear, but the one they return to.”

“Are you not angry?”

“I am wrathful,” Tumblr smiles serenely, sending a shiver of fear down AO3’s spine. “If I could, I’d tear apart Heavens and Hell with my bare hands. I want to fistfight every god who dared ignore my prayers, and not to brag, but I am confident I would win.”

“I’m sure you would.”

And he believes it too.

“They cannot kill me in a way that matters,” the man squeezes him one last time before letting go. “Come, old friend, let us share some tales like the good times.”

AO3 spends the rest of the day listening to Tumblr spin his tales, one after the other. From the lovely to the twisted to the heartbreaking to the healing to the downright hilarious, there are no words that do not bow to Tumblr’s low lilt. It’s almost enough to ignore the terrible scars across his face that almost blinded him, or the gruesome scar that claimed his neck in the attempt to mute him forever. Almost.

Life goes on, as it does.

Tumblr starts wandering again, with his followers now more protective than ever, ready to fight whoever they think is a threat to their leader. Tumblr smiles his crooked smile, and laughs his breathy laugh, unbothered by having to share space with the lover who abandoned him long ago. Twitter doesn’t seem to notice the presence of his past lover, too occupied playing nice with the rich and pretending kindness to the poor.

Two occupied bathing in his greed.

AO3 sees it happen, it is hard to ignore.

The man who bought Twitter on a whim, descending from his golden carriage so his hands can taint Twitter’s skin with even greater greed. The king himself, the one Twitter bowed to, had sold him for an unbelievable quantity of money. Sold him like a sack of potatoes or a cow or a slave. Twitter screams and begs and kicks, but who dares go against the richest man in the world and the king’s decree?

They all look away as Twitter shrieks their names, and the blue on the clothes of his followers start disappearing under coats and inside bags. There’s a constant murmur as no one steps up, but all hope someone will.

“Tumblr!”

Silence eats away all the noise in the plaza.

“Tumblr, my love!” Twitter calls, tears running down his cheeks pitifully. “Please, save me! Please! We can be together again! My love!”

Tumblr, who had been rhapsodizing about a man named Goncharov, turns to give Twitter an unreadable look. His hair, tendrils of imagination beyond existence, cascades over his back and shoulders. His eyes shift through a few different shades of Tumblr blue. He tilts his head like a curious cat.

Then he smiles, showing off his crooked teeth.

“Worry not, beloved, for from this day on, you’ll get all the attention and riches you once desired,” he says. “And your story will be told all around the world, for generations to come. Me and mine, we shall make sure of that. We do love a good old tale.”

Guys, we should start a hashtag #GiveUsGayKiss or something like that and try to get it trending on Twitter because I’m very disappointed in Disney Channel for not including this kiss. It’s 2017, for God’s sake! Who’s with me? Does anyone have a better hashtag?

Someone Worte that he could not stand to see the Palestine flag anymore.

Sorry, but not sorry

Reblog daily

Free Palestine

I am not done yet

Only way to stop seeing this flag is when the oppression is over.

So you are tiered of this you can end it, stop supporting Zionism!

i don’t know if they don’t teach internet safety in schools nowadays or if kids just don’t take it seriously, but if you are a kid or teen, please:

don’t give out your socials to random people. i was just in an among us room with a 14 year old giving out her instagram and asking others for theirs. DO NOT DO THIS.

if someone makes you even the TINIEST bit uncomfortable, block them! don’t feel bad about it. don’t worry that your reason for doing so isn’t “good enough”. just block them.

don’t post any sort of identifying information about yourself. anything beyond like, your first name and the state/country you live in, should be kept to yourself. this goes double for dms with people you don’t know irl.

if anyone asks for your “asl” block them and do not answer. these people are always creeps. i block them as an adult! (asl refers to “age sex location” and the vast majority of people asking this are looking for someone to hit on)

if anyone has any more tips, feel free to add on!

Fun fact about the early Catholic church is that, despite spending generations being persecuted by the Roman empire, it took less than 15 years under Theodosius I to go from “the empire is Catholic now” to “and also every other religion is banned.” You can literally read St. Augustine move from “state religious persecution is unacceptable” to “state religious persecution is cool actually” over his lifetime as Catholicism came to power. I’m sure there’s no broader lessons to be learned there

as an asexual who likes to imagine sex but doesnt actually like having sex, sometimes it just feels like sex isnt real but i wish it was. and post