- Joined
- Jan 16, 2017
I suspect the answer rhymes with "Sirtue Vignalling".
Megathread Transbian Dating Profiles - 'Totes valid trannies on the prowl for poon, now with no fluff or walls of text from Reddit.
- Thread starter Winter
- Start date
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2019
I'm telling you these people are trying to emulate anime children. You can do this shit with almost all of them.
Fartificial Insmelligence
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Sep 9, 2020
The fuck is with the eyebrow notch on genderfreaks?
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2022
Why would a straight man want to get pegged by a 6 foot tall blonde terf neo nazi?
- Joined
- Jul 16, 2022
Ho-lee-shiet. I don't know what's worse about this one - the Bundy stare, the amount of wrinkles in that face for a supposed 25-year-old, or the audacity to make the name "cute people only." Or that he's apparently only 9 miles away from you or, hopefully, some other location you set up to hide your real one. I must wonder, how many "cute people" do you think this one's snagged? Hopefully nobody, but motherfuckers will do anything for goodboy points these days.
Cringe newfag
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Feb 23, 2022
It's Grindr, so if they are willing to accept older guys they probably get constant DMs. Dressing up as a shitty wig-wearing transvestite actually would work there, unlike with women. He'd probably never get any attention from younger people, though, who can afford to have higher standards.
And Grindr uses the location tracker on your phone to say how close users are to eachother, but it randomises the number which is displayed to others by a few thousand feet, so people can't use it to track you down (in theory, anyway.)
asparaghost
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jun 20, 2021
unrelated but in one of the stickers
considering the imagery its not as far-fetched compared to seeing a "heart within a heart" logo anywhere else
- Joined
- Oct 6, 2021
This thread in one picture
A fucking Cenobite would throw up if you asked it to fuck any of these abominations.
God has abandoned us and the Devil just noped out the back door.
We're on our own.
A fucking Cenobite would throw up if you asked it to fuck any of these abominations.
God has abandoned us and the Devil just noped out the back door.
We're on our own.
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2019
Those aren't wrinkles nigga. The rots setting in and the foundations cracking. Literally the foundation is fucked up. There's more makeup on that thing than a pig in a brothel.
- Joined
- Aug 12, 2022
There is so much more to passing than just long hair, and that's all he has. He's not even wearing feminine clothing.
- Joined
- Jul 16, 2022
Yeah, that would explain quite a lot. They know what they're getting and just want some ass or dick. But then, if he wants others to perceive him as a woman... why is he using an app meant specifically for gay men? Kinda defeats the point, no?
Ah who am I kidding? Logic doesn't exist in the trooniverse.
- Joined
- Jan 30, 2018
In case nobody has mentioned it yet, Akroma is a character from Magic the Gathering (the MTG that isn't Marjorie Taylor Greene). MTG is unfortunately infested with troons and Wizards of the Coast has actively pandered to them in the form of two different characters: Alesha (canon tranny) and Niko Aris (enby with a soul patch lmao)
Ironically, Terese Nielsen, an artist that was excommunicated because of liking a right-wing Tweet (not kidding), is the artist for the most iconic Akroma cards, and her art is objectively beautiful.
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- Joined
- Jul 6, 2022
I’m in a family-style restaraunt, sitting in an open-air booth that is situated in the middle of the establishment; thus, its accessibllity from both sides. There are three of these particular seats and, aside from mine, are unoccupied. In fact, the restaurant is sparse with patrons who, for the purposes of this dream, are merely unidenifable figures on the blurry fringes of my perception. I seem to be a regular here, as the place feels familiar.
I am with my wife and three daughters (4, 11, 1nd 15). Wife (was) situated on one side and me and the girls are on the other; all of whom are on my right side in ascending age order. My wife leaves so early in the dream, that my mind doesn’t register this fact until much later when she returns.
In the meantime, two people come over to my booth and sit. This isn’t entirely strange, as I apparently recognize one of them: they’re a server at the restaurant, who I believe is either just getting off shift, or about to go on in a bit. Either way, they decided to come over and chat. I initially think nothing of it. The server (who I’ll refer to as “Ally,” for reasons explained in a bit) was intersectionality incarnate, someone you would see at all the left demonstrations. A pretty biracial (black/white) woman, with hair like the actress Cree Summer, along with that whole bohemian vibe about her. Though, she also has the propensity of leading with her POC, bisexual card. This element dominates her personality almost to the point of annoyance, otherwise, she’s cool.
The other person (who I didn’t know), on first glance, appeared to be either an underdeveloped white girl in her late teens or a really underdeveloped woman in her early 20s, but, in fact, was trans; presumably very early in their transition, so they are just going through the socialization component (growing out hair, makeup, up-pitched voice, hormones (maybe) etc.). Despite all of this, they come off as unassuming and not at all obnoxious or ostentatious about their transness. In fact, considering (you know, they’re a dude), they are also well put together (modestly done makeup, which was okay); and, if you squinted, they were nice looking (considering, you know, they’re a dude). Additionally, they weren’t rocking crazy colored hair (shoulder length, middle parted, blonde (from brunette, which I could tell by the roots)), or extra feminized attire for that matter (just a band tee – knotted in the front, a faded black denim jacket tied at the waist, and jeans. In fact, there was only a thin piping around their shoes (Converse-type) in the trans colors that gave way to their allegiance. (I only notice this later, as explained.)). Physically, they were slight in stature, and actually average height for a woman. Again, they were the type that you’d take a second glance to clock, and even then, the transphobiest of transphobes would just shrug and move on. I guess they represented the “average” transwoman.
Ally and I exchange pleasantries, but for the most part she engages in a conversation with the trans woman. A conversaion, mind you, that I am not uninvited from joining, but I just find myself with not much to say on the matter. Thus, I resign myself to observing the two. One thing I could immediately identify was their friendship dynamic: They were obviously longtime friends (well before the transwoman began transitioning); however, Ally posited herself as super supportive to the point of blind devotion, but the transwoman merely saw her as social currency.
Ally’s essentially rattling off SJW talking points almost like an NPC, and without talking a breath. The trans woman is all of humoring her, but soon enough they begin rebutting her points with reasonable responses, coming off almost like a Blaire White (and you could see that it began to take the wind out of Ally’s sails). Their responses, though at Ally, seemed to be indirectly geared toward me. Admittedly, this threw me off, because all impulses wanted to reject this person out of hand, but they were appealing to my rationale, so it was difficult. Thus, I became “stuck” for lack of a better way of putting it.
Undeterred, Ally would go off into another (nearly self-indulgent) tangent; during which, the trans woman would make a point to make (physical or eye) contact with each of my daughters on the sly. I cannot remember what they did with the younger two, but I can clearly recall them playing footsie with my eldest (hence how I noticed the shoes adored in trans colors). Mind you, this person doesn’t acknowledge me at all. And I – now in a frozen state of reluctance to say anything about what was going on, lest I be “cancelled” – didn’t reciprocate. Thus Ally seemed to serve as proxy; she would occasionally ask me questions that I would essentially respond to with closed-ended answers, but for the most part she would engage with the trans woman.
Also during this, the trans woman was looking over the menu, deciding on what to eat (prompted by Ally offering to pay and use her employee discount); modulating between wanting an entree, an appetizer, dessert, or everything. (This is also where moments of their self-centeredness slipped out through side comments. Cannot remember what they were specifically, but the trans woman would realize this and correct themselves.) Ally, on the other hand, only had a Sprite or Sierra Mist. I didn’t order. (Maybe because I was waiting on my wife. Maybe because I was transfixed.)
In any case, I could feel the power dynamic slowly going to the trans woman, who to their credit, didn’t do much heavy lifting to attain it. They came to the table – uninvited, unprompted – but was not only the center of attention but also the arbiter of influence. It was also as if they assumed this status – that was arguably more esteemed and protected than their “ally” – while also coming off as “not like the others” (much like Blaire White) that had this disarming, and disorienting affect on me. Everyone just accepted what was happening but for their own reasons. Ally because… they’re an ally; my daughters because they’re impressionable children who know no better; and me because I was essentially stuck. I wanted to do what was natural and protect my girls (and to an extent, Ally) from what is going on, but I understood that the persons I was trying to protect would turn on me.
I can’t stress this enough; the fact that they didn’t acknowledge my presence, as if I didn’t pose a threat whatsoever considering the paradox I was in. This was something that that hung in the air.
After a while, the two excused themselves, and went off to another of the open booths, seated in such a way that they were still facing us, but not looking at us – especially the trans woman. I believe they had completed their mission and was silently gloating. Ally – who the trans woman was now also actively ignoring, as they were on their phone – continued on with their diatribe. I believe she was merely a prop and sheild for the trans woman, and she’d served her purpose.
My wife returned. This time, she slid into the seat across from us, breaking the view that I had of the two. I think she may have asked me if I was okay or something, but it was all but unintelligible, for this is where the dream was coming to an end. I have a tendency of acknowledging when I’m in a dream, and this was one of those times. So, I just embraced that this scene was closing, as everything faded to a color not black.
I am with my wife and three daughters (4, 11, 1nd 15). Wife (was) situated on one side and me and the girls are on the other; all of whom are on my right side in ascending age order. My wife leaves so early in the dream, that my mind doesn’t register this fact until much later when she returns.
In the meantime, two people come over to my booth and sit. This isn’t entirely strange, as I apparently recognize one of them: they’re a server at the restaurant, who I believe is either just getting off shift, or about to go on in a bit. Either way, they decided to come over and chat. I initially think nothing of it. The server (who I’ll refer to as “Ally,” for reasons explained in a bit) was intersectionality incarnate, someone you would see at all the left demonstrations. A pretty biracial (black/white) woman, with hair like the actress Cree Summer, along with that whole bohemian vibe about her. Though, she also has the propensity of leading with her POC, bisexual card. This element dominates her personality almost to the point of annoyance, otherwise, she’s cool.
The other person (who I didn’t know), on first glance, appeared to be either an underdeveloped white girl in her late teens or a really underdeveloped woman in her early 20s, but, in fact, was trans; presumably very early in their transition, so they are just going through the socialization component (growing out hair, makeup, up-pitched voice, hormones (maybe) etc.). Despite all of this, they come off as unassuming and not at all obnoxious or ostentatious about their transness. In fact, considering (you know, they’re a dude), they are also well put together (modestly done makeup, which was okay); and, if you squinted, they were nice looking (considering, you know, they’re a dude). Additionally, they weren’t rocking crazy colored hair (shoulder length, middle parted, blonde (from brunette, which I could tell by the roots)), or extra feminized attire for that matter (just a band tee – knotted in the front, a faded black denim jacket tied at the waist, and jeans. In fact, there was only a thin piping around their shoes (Converse-type) in the trans colors that gave way to their allegiance. (I only notice this later, as explained.)). Physically, they were slight in stature, and actually average height for a woman. Again, they were the type that you’d take a second glance to clock, and even then, the transphobiest of transphobes would just shrug and move on. I guess they represented the “average” transwoman.
Ally and I exchange pleasantries, but for the most part she engages in a conversation with the trans woman. A conversaion, mind you, that I am not uninvited from joining, but I just find myself with not much to say on the matter. Thus, I resign myself to observing the two. One thing I could immediately identify was their friendship dynamic: They were obviously longtime friends (well before the transwoman began transitioning); however, Ally posited herself as super supportive to the point of blind devotion, but the transwoman merely saw her as social currency.
Ally’s essentially rattling off SJW talking points almost like an NPC, and without talking a breath. The trans woman is all of humoring her, but soon enough they begin rebutting her points with reasonable responses, coming off almost like a Blaire White (and you could see that it began to take the wind out of Ally’s sails). Their responses, though at Ally, seemed to be indirectly geared toward me. Admittedly, this threw me off, because all impulses wanted to reject this person out of hand, but they were appealing to my rationale, so it was difficult. Thus, I became “stuck” for lack of a better way of putting it.
Undeterred, Ally would go off into another (nearly self-indulgent) tangent; during which, the trans woman would make a point to make (physical or eye) contact with each of my daughters on the sly. I cannot remember what they did with the younger two, but I can clearly recall them playing footsie with my eldest (hence how I noticed the shoes adored in trans colors). Mind you, this person doesn’t acknowledge me at all. And I – now in a frozen state of reluctance to say anything about what was going on, lest I be “cancelled” – didn’t reciprocate. Thus Ally seemed to serve as proxy; she would occasionally ask me questions that I would essentially respond to with closed-ended answers, but for the most part she would engage with the trans woman.
Also during this, the trans woman was looking over the menu, deciding on what to eat (prompted by Ally offering to pay and use her employee discount); modulating between wanting an entree, an appetizer, dessert, or everything. (This is also where moments of their self-centeredness slipped out through side comments. Cannot remember what they were specifically, but the trans woman would realize this and correct themselves.) Ally, on the other hand, only had a Sprite or Sierra Mist. I didn’t order. (Maybe because I was waiting on my wife. Maybe because I was transfixed.)
In any case, I could feel the power dynamic slowly going to the trans woman, who to their credit, didn’t do much heavy lifting to attain it. They came to the table – uninvited, unprompted – but was not only the center of attention but also the arbiter of influence. It was also as if they assumed this status – that was arguably more esteemed and protected than their “ally” – while also coming off as “not like the others” (much like Blaire White) that had this disarming, and disorienting affect on me. Everyone just accepted what was happening but for their own reasons. Ally because… they’re an ally; my daughters because they’re impressionable children who know no better; and me because I was essentially stuck. I wanted to do what was natural and protect my girls (and to an extent, Ally) from what is going on, but I understood that the persons I was trying to protect would turn on me.
I can’t stress this enough; the fact that they didn’t acknowledge my presence, as if I didn’t pose a threat whatsoever considering the paradox I was in. This was something that that hung in the air.
After a while, the two excused themselves, and went off to another of the open booths, seated in such a way that they were still facing us, but not looking at us – especially the trans woman. I believe they had completed their mission and was silently gloating. Ally – who the trans woman was now also actively ignoring, as they were on their phone – continued on with their diatribe. I believe she was merely a prop and sheild for the trans woman, and she’d served her purpose.
My wife returned. This time, she slid into the seat across from us, breaking the view that I had of the two. I think she may have asked me if I was okay or something, but it was all but unintelligible, for this is where the dream was coming to an end. I have a tendency of acknowledging when I’m in a dream, and this was one of those times. So, I just embraced that this scene was closing, as everything faded to a color not black.
- Joined
- Apr 15, 2021
"Anna" looks a lot like an obscure deathfat I occasionally followed who is a true and honest woman. (I couldn't find a great comparison screenshot, tbh; minus "Anna's" visible stubble, I think the resemblance is closer than this side-by-side would suggest).
The thing is, it's not that "Anna" looks particularly feminine or like a woman (obvs); it's just that being a deathfat often has the effect of obscuring and almost neutralizing the indicators of sex (whether the deathfat is a man or woman) by burying them in mounds and mounds of unfathomable blubber. It's similar to how it can be hard to tell what sex random babies are absent the gendered markers that their parents put on them. That's normal and natural for babies, it isn't normal or natural for post-pubescent adults. Supermorbid obesity can also play into a vicious, mutually reinforcing cycle of hormonal issues that can superficially virilize women and feminize men, so that might play into it too.
Some trannies actively cling to being deathfats as a means of trying to blur their sex. I remember there was one tranny deathfat on My 600 Pound Life who was hesitant to lose the weight because he suspected he'd just look like a linebacker without the blubber (I suspect he would too). The blubber might have blurred the musculature of his shoulders and given him bitch tits, but they didn't give him "curves" as he believed. They just made him look like he was blobgender as much as anything.
There was another tranny deathfat (Shae iirc) who treated his creased, Boogie2988-style chest-wings like actual tits and hoisted them into a bra as though they were real breast tissue and not just sheets of blubber. The most hilarious part was, he transitioned after his first episode wherein they did not blur out his nipples during any naked scenes. In subsequent episodes, after he trooned out, they started blurring his nipples. Whatever "Free the Nip!" commentary someone might want to offer on that, it's hilarious that they were treating those shapeless chest-flaps as though they were real breasts with breast tissue, glands and all the structures that develop in real women's breasts rather than his body just desperately trying to store the extra energy he was cramming into it anywhere it could. I'm sure whatever editor at TLC blurred his nips managed to help Shae euphorically rub one out the night his episode aired.
- Joined
- May 21, 2020
I forgot to shave my 5 o'clock shadow. uWu XD
They rarely dress as a classy woman. Troons almost always fall into two fashion camps. Dress like a preteen girl or a bizarre caricature of what they believe a bimbo slut is. The worst is a combination of the two.
DirtyHegel
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jun 16, 2021
- Joined
- Oct 6, 2021
DirtyHegel
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jun 16, 2021
hes a bit sus nglLmfao you made a dating profile for Amon Goethe? From Dachau?
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2021
Ackshual lesbianz on reddit
He is, in fact, a balding smoker with hog body.
It’s bigotry not to wanna date him
Other dudes that he is so much more lesbian than
His nasty musings about dick on dyke subs
What does this lesbian look like?
Thirsty cause he don’t fuck
istg this kid is like 16 but he‘s listed as 18 and it‘s only a matter of time before he posts pole and hole
Seriously, I‘m certain there are minor boys posting nudity on reddit
AGP Smirk
He is, in fact, a balding smoker with hog body.
It’s bigotry not to wanna date him
Other dudes that he is so much more lesbian than
His nasty musings about dick on dyke subs
What does this lesbian look like?
Thirsty cause he don’t fuck
istg this kid is like 16 but he‘s listed as 18 and it‘s only a matter of time before he posts pole and hole
Seriously, I‘m certain there are minor boys posting nudity on reddit
AGP Smirk
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- Joined
- Feb 3, 2016
r/cringe apparently recently brigaded r/teenfemboys, the existence of which makes me want to vomit everything I've eaten for the last week.Seriously, I‘m certain there are minor boys posting nudity on reddit
It's a soft core porn subreddit for minors to be groomed into troondom, and Reddit is a-ok with it.