- Joined
- Apr 30, 2021
Did she ever stop to think about how sexy, feminine Chordeva the catgirl is going to feel dysphoric on T?! Fucking transphobes, SMDH.
Chordeva RN:
Stephanie Cianfriglia / Sapphire Crimson Claw / Yarrow Brown / the-ghost-fucker / transmascdruid / anarchoenby77 / darktwistedpussy / Druid of Endicot - Xe/xyr ghost-fucker, womb wizard, hand sanitizer sommelier, trans-boomer, violently abuses her elderly parents, has sexual fantasies about raping children
- Thread starter Hamplanet Fitness
- Start date
Chordeva RN:
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2020
Much much less to report on since her drama with Jacquin. I collected these earlier this evening. It looks as though she was serious about that self care shit, because she did some yoga! Who knew that it would take her magic bullshit to do some form of exercise! It must have been such a challenge for poor disabled Staph, with all of those mobility issues!
Peetie even went outside in his cat tent!
Meanwhile, Stephanie struggled to stay away from the Dahmer fanblog, so she threw in the towel with trying.
She got mad that people are (rightfully) calling Dahmer a pedophile, because he himself said he wasn’t! Sure, he was forthcoming about everything he did, but of course we can trust his word on this! The reason for this outbursts? Somebody sent an anonymous ask to her main blog comparing Dahmer’s pedophilia with her own grooming saga.
Stephanie also harkens back to the early 100-200 pages of this very thread, reiterating that she has POCD that causes intrusive thoughts. complete with the vague violent threats to kill her detractors.
In other notable posts, we have whatever this bullshit is:
Religion:
And she has found another transmasc in the TCC: She immediately plugs her AO3 works.
Peetie even went outside in his cat tent!
Meanwhile, Stephanie struggled to stay away from the Dahmer fanblog, so she threw in the towel with trying.
She got mad that people are (rightfully) calling Dahmer a pedophile, because he himself said he wasn’t! Sure, he was forthcoming about everything he did, but of course we can trust his word on this! The reason for this outbursts? Somebody sent an anonymous ask to her main blog comparing Dahmer’s pedophilia with her own grooming saga.
Stephanie also harkens back to the early 100-200 pages of this very thread, reiterating that she has POCD that causes intrusive thoughts. complete with the vague violent threats to kill her detractors.
In other notable posts, we have whatever this bullshit is:
Religion:
And she has found another transmasc in the TCC: She immediately plugs her AO3 works.
Ah, yes, the pedophile stan splitting of hairs. Sure, Jeff wasn't "attracted" to children, he just raped them and tried to turn them into sex slave zombies by drilling a hole in their head and pouring acid into the open wound.
Also LOL at the death threat. Gyro couldn't kill somebody with their stubby arms if they tried.
Also LOL at the death threat. Gyro couldn't kill somebody with their stubby arms if they tried.
- Joined
- Dec 24, 2013
She got mad that people are (rightfully) calling Dahmer a pedophile, because he himself said he wasn’t! Sure, he was forthcoming about everything he did, but of course we can trust his word on this! The reason for this outbursts? Somebody sent an anonymous ask to her main blog comparing Dahmer’s pedophilia with her own grooming saga.
Stephanie also harkens back to the early 100-200 pages of this very thread, reiterating that she has POCD that causes intrusive thoughts. complete with the vague violent threats to kill her detractors.
She got mad that people are (rightfully) calling Dahmer a pedophile, because he himself said he wasn’t! Sure, he was forthcoming about everything he did, but of course we can trust his word on this! The reason for this outbursts? Somebody sent an anonymous ask to her main blog comparing Dahmer’s pedophilia with her own grooming saga.
Stephanie also harkens back to the early 100-200 pages of this very thread, reiterating that she has POCD that causes intrusive thoughts. complete with the vague violent threats to kill her detractors.
"People are so fucking dumb sometimes, I'd kill them i it wasn't against my personal code of honor/ethics."
this is a new favorite yarrowism. what does this even mean. "i'd totally kill these annoying people if i wasn't such a good person" isn't the flex you think it is, yarrow. i think it's time to step away from the dahmer fandom, saying you'd kill people that call him a pedo isn't very "i don't condone his actions" of you
- Joined
- Jul 22, 2015
Hey, maybe she is really a he after all! "I'm nice, I don't kill people even though I want to" is very similar to the standard incel line of, "I don't rape or beat women even though they deserve it, I'm a nice guy."
- Joined
- Aug 12, 2016
I suspect there are pills for that, Yarrow. Take responsibility.
She does sometimes do an impression of a dudebro or a fuckboy when talking to women
I judge them if they know they have a problem but don’t do anything to make sure they don’t hurt anyone.
Did he say this while raping a fourteen-year-old? He was in denial, Yarrow. The evidence shows he was attracted to young teenage boys. It’s just facts.
Showing more compassion for pedophiles than people who disagree with her.
An empty shill
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Nov 2, 2021
Well,she groomed children, so they're more relatable to her than the average non-groomer, which is pretty much the bulk of civilized society.
- Joined
- Apr 30, 2021
I judge the ones who don't successfully hang themselves.
- Joined
- Aug 12, 2016
I’m inclined to settle for castration. See if it stops the diseased thoughts.
Edit: I just can’t get behind capital punishment for pre-crime, fellas.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Mar 16, 2022
I agreed with this until I observed how insane abusive autogynephile transsexuals continue to be even after they've been castrated and put on estrogen. Unfortunately paraphilias are not entirely stored in the balls.
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2021
Lol, ah yes Dahmer the beacon of truthfulness.
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2021
I finally read the fourth chapter of her Jelf story. Its full of her usual sex moves written by a virgin 'then xiem selbst moved xiem selbst's finger two inches across Jeff's rippling abs then angled them 40 degrees and moved them in a clockwise direction stopping at 7:45...' It was damn boring for myself and my reading audience, but the ending is worth reading, when Jelf gets annoyed at trying to turn a laptop on so he teleports to a library, uses 'The Force' to type, then accidentally watches porn.
One day, while Ehren was out yet again, Jeff peered into the study at the foreign object sitting upon the desk. For all intents and purposes, it looked like the laptop he had once had, however had barely used. It was, he knew, much more complex. He wasn’t even quite sure how to turn it on. After examining it closely for several minutes, he cursed to himself and, throwing caution to the wind, decided to teleport himself to a library.
In a desolate corner, he eyed what appeared to be another, larger computer, and with some delicate prodding of “the Force,” managed to turn it on. Using the same measured psychokinetic movements, he clicked the browser, then clacked the keys in word patterns. Searching “mythology,” he eventually found names and figures he recognized. He was just eyeing up a page on Wikipedia about his own “species” when, unexpectedly, someone sat down next to him.
Jeff froze, not moving a muscle, not even blinking. He had no idea if the portly man knew of his presence. He watched him go through the same motions of navigation, but then watched him plug in headphones and place them into his ears. To Jeff’s astonishment, he then navigated to a website that Jeff had never seen before, much less known existed, and began browsing through videos. Only, this wasn’t YouTube. This was—
Oh, Lord and Savior, Jeff’s mind lurched. This can’t be happening to me. Why, why does this stuff always happen at the library?
The man, round-bellied, balding, folded his arms and grinned perversely as he enjoyed pornographic material. Behind him, Jeff began to hyperventilate as a man began to folate another man on the screen. He clenched his hands into fists and kept his arms locked at his sides. Invisible or not, he had no business giving into his urges, as he still wasn’t sure if they still dwelled deep inside his brain. He began to sweat and tremble as the man chuckled, sipping coffee out of a tumbler, staring at the muted filth upon the screen. Suddenly, a third man walked into frame, and began to masturbate over the other man’s backside.
It was all too much to bear. Against his better judgment, Jeff sat back at his own station and undid his belt. Matching the man in the video, he rubbed himself lasciviously. He tossed his head back, sighing in pleasure, sucking his bottom lip, grinding his back teeth. The man watching the porn only sat and grinned, making no move to pleasure himself, so Jeff allowed himself to forget he was even there. He squirmed against his hand, Adam’s apple bobbing, eyelashes fluttering, climbing higher and higher, his stomach tightening. He felt his asshole clench, and then hit his zenith.
In a desolate corner, he eyed what appeared to be another, larger computer, and with some delicate prodding of “the Force,” managed to turn it on. Using the same measured psychokinetic movements, he clicked the browser, then clacked the keys in word patterns. Searching “mythology,” he eventually found names and figures he recognized. He was just eyeing up a page on Wikipedia about his own “species” when, unexpectedly, someone sat down next to him.
Jeff froze, not moving a muscle, not even blinking. He had no idea if the portly man knew of his presence. He watched him go through the same motions of navigation, but then watched him plug in headphones and place them into his ears. To Jeff’s astonishment, he then navigated to a website that Jeff had never seen before, much less known existed, and began browsing through videos. Only, this wasn’t YouTube. This was—
Oh, Lord and Savior, Jeff’s mind lurched. This can’t be happening to me. Why, why does this stuff always happen at the library?
The man, round-bellied, balding, folded his arms and grinned perversely as he enjoyed pornographic material. Behind him, Jeff began to hyperventilate as a man began to folate another man on the screen. He clenched his hands into fists and kept his arms locked at his sides. Invisible or not, he had no business giving into his urges, as he still wasn’t sure if they still dwelled deep inside his brain. He began to sweat and tremble as the man chuckled, sipping coffee out of a tumbler, staring at the muted filth upon the screen. Suddenly, a third man walked into frame, and began to masturbate over the other man’s backside.
It was all too much to bear. Against his better judgment, Jeff sat back at his own station and undid his belt. Matching the man in the video, he rubbed himself lasciviously. He tossed his head back, sighing in pleasure, sucking his bottom lip, grinding his back teeth. The man watching the porn only sat and grinned, making no move to pleasure himself, so Jeff allowed himself to forget he was even there. He squirmed against his hand, Adam’s apple bobbing, eyelashes fluttering, climbing higher and higher, his stomach tightening. He felt his asshole clench, and then hit his zenith.
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2016
Lmfao at Staph using "folate" instead of "fellate".
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2020
WAKE UP BABE, FOURTH CHAPTER OF MARCHENHAFT DROPPED!
Courtesy of @Pee Your Pants, I wouldn’t have known otherwise.
For the past two days, Ehren had been in hospital. There had been a raucous debate on where to send xier—initially, xier had been sent to a much smaller one in Schwandorf, but upon disclosure of xies rare disease, they had felt ill-equipped at helping and had transferred xiem. Now xies final place of rest was much closer to Munich, at Krankenhaus Martha-Maria München. There, xier had been evaluated thoroughly, having xies legs inspected, spine surveyed, and heart and lungs checked to make sure everything was in tip-top shape. Despite insisting that xier often walked long distances without issue, xier feet had been assessed and also found to be without worry. These “better safe than sorry” procedures had lasted the better part of the day and had only served to exhaust Ehren more.
It was then all the more startling, since xier had been sleeping, to have awoken to a soft hand wrapped around xies, and see a broad-shouldered man sitting in the bedside chair.
“Did I wake you?” he asked, softly.
“Is this a dream?” Ehren asked in return.
Jeff explained that no, this was no dream, and in fact it had taken some doing to get there. He regaled Ehren with a fantastical tale of his friend whisking him off to the land of the Æsir, who were the gods of old, and asking permission to use the Bilröst.
“It’s the only way I could get here,” Jeff explained. “It was easy enough to track your energy, apparently since we… Well, it made me able to sniff you out, see.”
A grin spread across Ehren’s face. Certainly that experience hadn’t been a dream; nothing xier could dream could ever be so wonderful. But then Ehren addressed the major question.
“Why did you come?”
Blushing slightly, looking down through his thick glasses and lashes alike, Jeff had confessed, “I had to see you again.”
Ehren tried to sit up, but Jeff touched xies chest softly, then fetched the bed remote. They relived the encounter, Jeff again apologizing for scaring xiem, and Ehren in turn apologizing for assuming the worst. Jeff asked how xier knew of him, his crimes, and Ehren explained that in xies first significant relationship, xier had been with a girl of the Schwarze Szene, the German equivalent of a goth. She had collected vintage medical instruments and had participated in “dark tourism.” In 2011, the twentieth anniversary of his crimes, she had traveled to Milwaukee and gone on a tour that culminated in going to the former site of the Oxford apartments. Jeff had rolled his eyes at this; he hadn’t known of such tours, and surely, he wouldn’t approve of capitalizing off of his atrocities. What was worse, Ehren’s ex had also gone to see the Berghof on April thirtieth, Der Führer’s birthday. This trip, when they had both been nineteen, had resulted in an angry exchange of words that had ended a four-year relationship. At the time, Ehren had been a lesbian; after some soul-searching, xier had thought that maybe xier was straight.
“I spent many years confused about myself. If I was a woman attracted to women, how could I also desire men? How could I feel queerer as I desired a man than as I did when desiring a woman? When I went off to university, I met my first trans person.”
Ehren then lamented to Jeff that doctors had advised xier to be cautious when starting HRT, as their heart was already weakened from past damage to xier aorta.
“But no doctor could understand how desperately I found myself wanting to be masculine. I am thin, and this is a part of my disease, but I do want a more refined musculature. That has led me into medical research, I want to make sure that someone like me who desires it could transition safely.”
Jeff thought to himself carnally that Ehren, despite the flaws xier saw in xies body, was already undisputedly masculine, but kept these opinions quiet.
“Well, hey… are you allowed to leave yet?” Jeff asked, to which Ehren sighed.
“I wish I could, I feel fine, but they probably wouldn’t clear me.”
Jeff sulked initially, until he broke into a devilish grin. “You might not have to wait.”
Peering cautiously over his shoulder, Jeff then took Ehren’s hand in his, with Ehren side-eyeing him suspiciously, if not without some amusement. Jeff’s hand then began to glow that familiar golden glow, and yet again spread to Ehren.
“Tell me you’re not—”
It was all Ehren could say before the both winked out of existence.
Seconds later, Ehren and Jeff reappeared in xies Munich home. Ehren, overcome, lowered xiem selbst into a squat with xies head hung low. Xier said something softly to xiem selbst that Jeff didn’t quite catch, so he asked xiem to repeat it.
“I said you’re like fucking Dr. Manhattan.”
Jeff cocked an eyebrow. “Is that someone from the hospital?”
Snorting, Ehren replied jovially, “No, you fool, he’s a comic book superhero. You’re an awful lot like him, in fact, he is often shining and nude.”
Jeff blushed furiously. “Umm… I’m sorry about that.”
“Old news.”
“No, but I mean it—I wish I hadn’t been so uncouth when we first met.”
Ehren pealed out laughter which was louder, but had the same mirth. “You are such a gentleman, for a serial killer.”
Jeff, still slightly embarrassed, nevertheless cracked a smile. “Well, that’s good to hear.”
Ehren suddenly rose, taking at first a few ginger steps to test xies composure, then went to shut the living room blinds in both sets of windows. Confused, Jeff opened his mouth to ask the reason, until Ehren began to take off xies clothes. Xier closed the distance between them, rubbing xies long, thin fingers over Jeff’s Adam’s apple, then took xies second hand and rubbed the thumb over his lips. Ehren then replaced xies thumb with xies own lips, causing Jeff to shudder in pleasure.
“Show me how you would have done it better,” Ehren whispered.
To which, Jeff ran both of his hands down each of Ehren’s thin flanks, then over xies ass. He then softly gnawed on xies bottom lip before bringing one hand around to gently caress xies t-dick. Gazing down at Ehren as xier made wanton sighs of lust, Jeff soughed, “You’re magnificent.”
Kneeling, he languidly kissed his way from Ehren’s jaw, across xies collarbone, to xies small tits. His lips closed over a nipple and he sucked it generously, then left kisses across to the other side before he sucked the other. He then kissed his way down Ehren’s stomach until he found himself at xies folds. Ehren used xies head to gesture to the couch, and so they lay down together. Ehren then touched xies tits xiem selbst as Jeff went down on xier. For a man unaccustomed to making love to an afab lover, he seemed to know what he was doing. It was not a difficult concept to understand—concave versus convex, internal versus internal. Jeff licked in and around Ehren’s cunt with abandon, causing xiem to tremble with the ecstasy of it all. Wordlessly, xier took one of xies hands and grasped Jeff’s cock, eliciting a whimper.
“If you don’t get this thing in,” Ehren breathed, “I’ll put it there myself.”
Jeff heartily complied.
Ehren’s hands stroked Jeff’s shoulder blades as he slipped inside xiem. For the next several minutes, all the two of them knew was hushed words of sentiment, labored breathing, and sighs of happiness, coupled with the sounds of two bodies pressed together. It amazed Jeff how different it was to take a trans man—to top someone while being able to look into their eyes. Ehren snuggled xies face into the crook of Jeff’s shoulder, rubbing xies nose softly against the skin, leaving small kisses and whispering endearments. “You feel divine,” he heard, a sentence that almost left him in tears.
Jeff titled his hips at an angle, catching that same bundle of nerves, causing Ehren to arch xies back and cry out. Xier brought one leg around Jeff’s, xies thin foot stroking his calf, and bucked xies hips up into him. Jeff then endeavored to hit that same spot again and again until Ehren was a quivering mess beneath him.
After their orgasms, Jeff tickled Ehren’s earlobe with his tongue as they basked in their mutual pool of endorphins. Removing himself, Jeff spooned Ehren, his hands stroking xies arms and flanks.
“I’m beginning to think that I would like you around,” Ehren confessed, xies eyes closed sleepily. “What if you stayed here? With me? What would happen?”
Jeff thought about it a moment. Then, his face burst into a wide, warm smile.
“I will.”
One year later
Ehren beamed proudly onstage as a recipient of xies master’s degree. It was an especially poignant moment considering that neither Jeff nor xier had believed xier would be able to ascend the steps to get onstage. Indeed, there had been moments where they hadn’t been sure Ehren would even be alive.
In truth, Ehren had been reaching the credits necessary for graduation six months ago. However, a sudden downward turn in health had forced xiem to take a necessary absence to recuperate. As was common with Marfan syndrome, it seemed that Ehren’s prognosis had worsened: barely thirty, xier had been diagnosed with heart failure.
A rainy night had seen the lovers in bed, as was customary, however the reasons had been uncharacteristically bleak. Through floods of tears, Jeff had cradled Ehren as xier had sobbed hysterically, lamenting xier future, lamenting their love. What had begun as a triste had blossomed into something unlike either had ever known. Jeff had slowly begun to reject his former selfish nature and instead tried his best to focus on Ehren’s wants and needs. The power dynamics had reversed, so that Jeff himself was now the kept secret, biding his time at home as the minutes and hours ticked by. He didn’t dare leave the domicile for even a short period of time, despite Ehren’s assurances that no one would know him. Not only was he convinced he was notorious as he’d been decades ago, he wasn’t sure if anyone could pick out his ethereal qualities from those around him. Not that he considered himself perfect, far from it—that differed from Ehren, who was as close a thing to heaven as he felt he’d ever come. Every inch, every mole and freckle, every dimple and crinkle, every jutting bone joint through xies skin, every giggle and inflection, every idiosyncrasy of thought both spoken and contained within xies mind… Jeff found himself asking where such a man had been all his life, despite knowing full well that Ehren had not yet been born. If not for the fact that death already separated them, Jeff would have made vows, “’til death do us part.” And Ehren, despite admonishing Jeff on many an occasion for his life’s sins, held a profound compassion for him, going so far as to frown if he should ever self-deprecate in any shape or form. Jeff admired Ehren’s studiousness and intellect, whereas Ehren admired Jeff’s tenacious determination to better himself. They fit together like hand in glove, which is what made the news even more devastating.
On another morning, Jeff found Ehren on the eastern balcony of the home, a mug of tea long since forgotten on a small table. There were tears long since dried on Ehren’s cheeks. He had asked what plagued his lover’s heart on a seemingly beautiful early morning.
“Having you around hasn’t just been beautiful,” Ehren began, at first avoiding the question. “It’s been changing me, ever so slightly.”
“Whattya mean, baby?”
Sniffling, Ehren replied, “I saw what I believe was my fylgjur today.”
Jeff knew the old myths, and he received this with a knot of dread in his stomach.
Ehren continued, “I used to think I wanted to be an animal scientist. Go out into the field, take photographs, track populations. This was because my father had a subscription to National Geographic. Ironically, it was another one of his magazines that made me desire medicine instead. But see, the NatGeo magazines, they have these large, pullout centerfolds of images of Africa. How I adored those! And somehow, I got really attached to a bird I’d have no hopes of ever seeing in real life. It’s called a secretary bird.”
With a sardonic bark of a laugh, Ehren then explained that xier had seen one today.
“I didn’t want to wake you. I slipped from out of your arms and I went to the canal, even before sunrise. And it flew in over the buildings, and it landed right in front of me. It had a snake in its beak, they eat snakes. It cocked its head and looked at me, square in the eye. If you’ve never seen one—a picture, I mean—they have gorgeous eyes. Large and brown, with eyelashes. And it stared straight through my soul, and deep inside me, I knew that no one else could see it but me. It was an omen. My reckless nature, I push myself too hard, and now I am going to die.”
With the last word, Ehren’s voice cracked, and xier broke down and sobbed in Jeff’s arms once again.
In time, they both decided that the omen was either wrong, or it would not come to pass yet.
Ehren’s master’s research project, which planned to link cardiovascular health to forest bathing, had been a phenomenal success, and it had come upon him much on accident. Rather than waste xies spoons on xies usual extended hikes, Ehren had taken to going to a local park and simply sitting under any number of its trees. Feeling particularly glum knowing that xies diagnosis all but ensured that xier would never be approved for HRT, Ehren had closed xies eyes and drifted into quiet contemplation. The wind in the leaves above xies head sounded like words of reassurance and sympathy. And that’s when, like a blessing from the gods, Ehren had been struck with serendipity. It had been something the instructors at IPEK had been much enthused about, considering not only their investment in up-to-date research but Ehren’s own health. What was more, so little research had been done involving transgender patients. It benefitted everyone, and it took Ehren’s mind off many things. It was the confidence boost xier needed, and the research boost the school had needed.
Nevertheless, Jeff found that no matter what, Ehren was all man, and would always be one. He often found himself whispering endearments to xier during their lovemaking.
“You sexy, man, you.”
“You’re a beautiful, beautiful boy.”
“You’re the man of my dreams.”
Other days, Jeff would practically edge himself, so riled up by Ehren’s teasing before heading off in the morning. Now that xier had xies degree, xier was looking forward to getting enrolled into xies doctorate program. A selfish part of Jeff, a remnant of his humanity, wanted nothing more than to keep Ehren home and fuck xier whenever he wanted. Sometimes all it took was a glimpse of xies tits or ass as xier got dressed was enough to get him ravenously horny. But, as he was learning now as he never learned before, people were not sex objects, and he loved Ehren much too dearly to ever reduce xier to such.
Love? He often asked himself, could it be?
Among the unanswered questions he had lurking in his mind about his identity, this was yet another. All his memories from his human life had transferred over—where did that leave his sickness? Or was this all just a matter of finally knowing a man as a complete human being?
Cradling Ehren to his chest, he also found himself asking, How can I be dead, and yet I feel all the feelings of being alive? Was he truly dead? Had he been reborn? Could anyone but Ehren see him? How could Ehren xiem selbst see him? Was it because his lover had one foot over the line into his world?
One day, while Ehren was out yet again, Jeff peered into the study at the foreign object sitting upon the desk. For all intents and purposes, it looked like the laptop he had once had, however had barely used. It was, he knew, much more complex. He wasn’t even quite sure how to turn it on. After examining it closely for several minutes, he cursed to himself and, throwing caution to the wind, decided to teleport himself to a library.
In a desolate corner, he eyed what appeared to be another, larger computer, and with some delicate prodding of “the Force,” managed to turn it on. Using the same measured psychokinetic movements, he clicked the browser, then clacked the keys in word patterns. Searching “mythology,” he eventually found names and figures he recognized. He was just eyeing up a page on Wikipedia about his own “species” when, unexpectedly, someone sat down next to him.
Jeff froze, not moving a muscle, not even blinking. He had no idea if the portly man knew of his presence. He watched him go through the same motions of navigation, but then watched him plug in headphones and place them into his ears. To Jeff’s astonishment, he then navigated to a website that Jeff had never seen before, much less known existed, and began browsing through videos. Only, this wasn’t YouTube. This was—
Oh, Lord and Savior, Jeff’s mind lurched. This can’t be happening to me. Why, why does this stuff always happen at the library?
The man, round-bellied, balding, folded his arms and grinned perversely as he enjoyed pornographic material. Behind him, Jeff began to hyperventilate as a man began to folate another man on the screen. He clenched his hands into fists and kept his arms locked at his sides. Invisible or not, he had no business giving into his urges, as he still wasn’t sure if they still dwelled deep inside his brain. He began to sweat and tremble as the man chuckled, sipping coffee out of a tumbler, staring at the muted filth upon the screen. Suddenly, a third man walked into frame, and began to masturbate over the other man’s backside.
It was all too much to bear. Against his better judgment, Jeff sat back at his own station and undid his belt. Matching the man in the video, he rubbed himself lasciviously. He tossed his head back, sighing in pleasure, sucking his bottom lip, grinding his back teeth. The man watching the porn only sat and grinned, making no move to pleasure himself, so Jeff allowed himself to forget he was even there. He squirmed against his hand, Adam’s apple bobbing, eyelashes fluttering, climbing higher and higher, his stomach tightening. He felt his asshole clench, and then hit his zenith.
“You!” barked an accusatory woman’s voice.
Jeff’s eyes snapped open and he flushed in humiliation. For a second, he was sure he would get the cops called on him. But then he remembered, he was dead, he was invisible, which meant he wasn’t the target, for once.
“This is the second time, one more strike, and you will be barred from the premises, abweichend!”
Stumbling away awkwardly and nauseously, Jeff exited the building. He didn’t pay attention to where he was going, only skittered off, mortified and chastising himself for his relapse. He sat on a bench, sweating now from a decidedly different sort of body heat, and buried his face in his hands. He hadn’t even noticed himself seated by the canal until he heard a booming male voice.
“Dahmer! I have been sent by my son to speak with you!”
In other Jeff-related news, we got some happenings in the TCC. She got blocked by one of the fellow Dahmer blogs, and we know how she feels about that.
People are deactivating their blogs due to people sending them hateful anonymous asks. Namely, Comfort Cup and Stolen Mannequin (who I had seen a lot on her blog).
Stephanie pleads for Stolen Mannequin to come back, even adding “and furthermore someone special might want to talk to you, too”), which gives the horrifying implication that if he does come back, Ghost Dahmer will talk to him.
Also complains about people being repelled by her thing for Jeffrey Dahmer. Somebody followed her main and they were getting along but then she found the Dahmer blog and unfollowed, correctly citing that they glorify him and it is not good for their mental health.
Again references it later (I went back later and took more screenshots, hence the timestamps). I doubt she’s actually “beating [herself] up about it” though because Stephanie can do no wrong ever and it’s their fault for not understanding of course.
A couple days ago she was again ruminating on that long ass ask about sexuality and other dumbass shit
Also true crime community twitter is somehow more transphobic than regular twitter
In other news she changed her header and bio
Stephanie defines the difference between cultural appreciation vs cultural appropriation
Her cats (neither are hers)
She at least tries to go on walks but gets winded
What she says here is actually kinda not that far fetched from the other posts she reblogged from
She owned those twitter conservatives though (this did not happen or it happened previously, it is not in the tweets I’m sharing today though).
Senior year of high school somebody told her that she used to be really weird but she was fine now, and she was insulted because she was always weird and still is. Something tells me that this person had not spent time near Stephanie since middle school, or at the very least Stephanie had learned to tone down her retardation in front of people at school.
Progress on her apple tree, this was in the post where she asked for advice with growing one
Long ass post with context included because she tard rages over an incident where somebody insisted she couldn’t be “cripplepunk” because she could walk. but she’s still disabled, both mentally and physically physically! Also note that she calls this one of her most negative experiences on the site. I just got to page 200 of the thread and I don’t think that this even falls in the top 10 of her actual worst experiences on Tumblr.
Hottest weapons
She would pick the spirit realm to try to bone the ghosts
Some tumblr drama, Steph chimes in, saying that she’s had the person blocked. Note that she gets extremely triggered when people block her for seemingly no reason but it’s ok for her to do it lol
She mentions her mom having pancreatic cancer.
Interestingly enough, I left off in my read-through of the thread not too long after she alleged that her mom had pancreatic cancer… Years ago. Context: User makes post about how people can lose weight despite “muh condishuns”, Stephanie has an actual tard rage at the user. I just want to know how her mom survived that shit, because the survival rates are very low. Part of me wonders if she’s just been mistaken for all these years, and it was a different type of cancer, but at the same time I guess it could’ve been less severe and treated in time.
Misc shit I don’t care to caption
Twitter
She gets triggered over a MtF troon dunking on non-binary people. You’re white too and the anti-indigenous thing is a reach. Them “two spirit” people and other non/-gender confirming indigenous people were not trans, because what they believed in and did simply weren’t the same as gender confused people today claiming they don’t have one. Stop acting this stupid.
Also livetweeted a movie, but it’s dumb and i’m not stitching the screenshots together.
We need a list of our favorite Stephanie quotes, and sadly I only considered bookmarking hilarious quotes 200 pages into my reading of this thread. Here’s an old one that makes me laugh:
Courtesy of @Pee Your Pants, I wouldn’t have known otherwise.
Chapter 4: Part 4: Torschlusspanik
Summary:
Notes:
Chapter Text
The last thing Ehren remembered was stumbling exhaustedly into the Hans-Eisenmann-Haus at the bottom of the mountain. Xier had tried xies best to get out of the park before sundown, but had clearly bitten off more than xier could chew with that assumption. On a good day, Ehren could hike for miles, and so xier had. So utterly spent had xier been when arriving at the visitor center that xier hadn’t even minded when the employees had frantically dialed 112 saying a “young lady” had collapsed in their lobby.For the past two days, Ehren had been in hospital. There had been a raucous debate on where to send xier—initially, xier had been sent to a much smaller one in Schwandorf, but upon disclosure of xies rare disease, they had felt ill-equipped at helping and had transferred xiem. Now xies final place of rest was much closer to Munich, at Krankenhaus Martha-Maria München. There, xier had been evaluated thoroughly, having xies legs inspected, spine surveyed, and heart and lungs checked to make sure everything was in tip-top shape. Despite insisting that xier often walked long distances without issue, xier feet had been assessed and also found to be without worry. These “better safe than sorry” procedures had lasted the better part of the day and had only served to exhaust Ehren more.
It was then all the more startling, since xier had been sleeping, to have awoken to a soft hand wrapped around xies, and see a broad-shouldered man sitting in the bedside chair.
“Did I wake you?” he asked, softly.
“Is this a dream?” Ehren asked in return.
Jeff explained that no, this was no dream, and in fact it had taken some doing to get there. He regaled Ehren with a fantastical tale of his friend whisking him off to the land of the Æsir, who were the gods of old, and asking permission to use the Bilröst.
“It’s the only way I could get here,” Jeff explained. “It was easy enough to track your energy, apparently since we… Well, it made me able to sniff you out, see.”
A grin spread across Ehren’s face. Certainly that experience hadn’t been a dream; nothing xier could dream could ever be so wonderful. But then Ehren addressed the major question.
“Why did you come?”
Blushing slightly, looking down through his thick glasses and lashes alike, Jeff had confessed, “I had to see you again.”
Ehren tried to sit up, but Jeff touched xies chest softly, then fetched the bed remote. They relived the encounter, Jeff again apologizing for scaring xiem, and Ehren in turn apologizing for assuming the worst. Jeff asked how xier knew of him, his crimes, and Ehren explained that in xies first significant relationship, xier had been with a girl of the Schwarze Szene, the German equivalent of a goth. She had collected vintage medical instruments and had participated in “dark tourism.” In 2011, the twentieth anniversary of his crimes, she had traveled to Milwaukee and gone on a tour that culminated in going to the former site of the Oxford apartments. Jeff had rolled his eyes at this; he hadn’t known of such tours, and surely, he wouldn’t approve of capitalizing off of his atrocities. What was worse, Ehren’s ex had also gone to see the Berghof on April thirtieth, Der Führer’s birthday. This trip, when they had both been nineteen, had resulted in an angry exchange of words that had ended a four-year relationship. At the time, Ehren had been a lesbian; after some soul-searching, xier had thought that maybe xier was straight.
“I spent many years confused about myself. If I was a woman attracted to women, how could I also desire men? How could I feel queerer as I desired a man than as I did when desiring a woman? When I went off to university, I met my first trans person.”
Ehren then lamented to Jeff that doctors had advised xier to be cautious when starting HRT, as their heart was already weakened from past damage to xier aorta.
“But no doctor could understand how desperately I found myself wanting to be masculine. I am thin, and this is a part of my disease, but I do want a more refined musculature. That has led me into medical research, I want to make sure that someone like me who desires it could transition safely.”
Jeff thought to himself carnally that Ehren, despite the flaws xier saw in xies body, was already undisputedly masculine, but kept these opinions quiet.
“Well, hey… are you allowed to leave yet?” Jeff asked, to which Ehren sighed.
“I wish I could, I feel fine, but they probably wouldn’t clear me.”
Jeff sulked initially, until he broke into a devilish grin. “You might not have to wait.”
Peering cautiously over his shoulder, Jeff then took Ehren’s hand in his, with Ehren side-eyeing him suspiciously, if not without some amusement. Jeff’s hand then began to glow that familiar golden glow, and yet again spread to Ehren.
“Tell me you’re not—”
It was all Ehren could say before the both winked out of existence.
Seconds later, Ehren and Jeff reappeared in xies Munich home. Ehren, overcome, lowered xiem selbst into a squat with xies head hung low. Xier said something softly to xiem selbst that Jeff didn’t quite catch, so he asked xiem to repeat it.
“I said you’re like fucking Dr. Manhattan.”
Jeff cocked an eyebrow. “Is that someone from the hospital?”
Snorting, Ehren replied jovially, “No, you fool, he’s a comic book superhero. You’re an awful lot like him, in fact, he is often shining and nude.”
Jeff blushed furiously. “Umm… I’m sorry about that.”
“Old news.”
“No, but I mean it—I wish I hadn’t been so uncouth when we first met.”
Ehren pealed out laughter which was louder, but had the same mirth. “You are such a gentleman, for a serial killer.”
Jeff, still slightly embarrassed, nevertheless cracked a smile. “Well, that’s good to hear.”
Ehren suddenly rose, taking at first a few ginger steps to test xies composure, then went to shut the living room blinds in both sets of windows. Confused, Jeff opened his mouth to ask the reason, until Ehren began to take off xies clothes. Xier closed the distance between them, rubbing xies long, thin fingers over Jeff’s Adam’s apple, then took xies second hand and rubbed the thumb over his lips. Ehren then replaced xies thumb with xies own lips, causing Jeff to shudder in pleasure.
“Show me how you would have done it better,” Ehren whispered.
To which, Jeff ran both of his hands down each of Ehren’s thin flanks, then over xies ass. He then softly gnawed on xies bottom lip before bringing one hand around to gently caress xies t-dick. Gazing down at Ehren as xier made wanton sighs of lust, Jeff soughed, “You’re magnificent.”
Kneeling, he languidly kissed his way from Ehren’s jaw, across xies collarbone, to xies small tits. His lips closed over a nipple and he sucked it generously, then left kisses across to the other side before he sucked the other. He then kissed his way down Ehren’s stomach until he found himself at xies folds. Ehren used xies head to gesture to the couch, and so they lay down together. Ehren then touched xies tits xiem selbst as Jeff went down on xier. For a man unaccustomed to making love to an afab lover, he seemed to know what he was doing. It was not a difficult concept to understand—concave versus convex, internal versus internal. Jeff licked in and around Ehren’s cunt with abandon, causing xiem to tremble with the ecstasy of it all. Wordlessly, xier took one of xies hands and grasped Jeff’s cock, eliciting a whimper.
“If you don’t get this thing in,” Ehren breathed, “I’ll put it there myself.”
Jeff heartily complied.
Ehren’s hands stroked Jeff’s shoulder blades as he slipped inside xiem. For the next several minutes, all the two of them knew was hushed words of sentiment, labored breathing, and sighs of happiness, coupled with the sounds of two bodies pressed together. It amazed Jeff how different it was to take a trans man—to top someone while being able to look into their eyes. Ehren snuggled xies face into the crook of Jeff’s shoulder, rubbing xies nose softly against the skin, leaving small kisses and whispering endearments. “You feel divine,” he heard, a sentence that almost left him in tears.
Jeff titled his hips at an angle, catching that same bundle of nerves, causing Ehren to arch xies back and cry out. Xier brought one leg around Jeff’s, xies thin foot stroking his calf, and bucked xies hips up into him. Jeff then endeavored to hit that same spot again and again until Ehren was a quivering mess beneath him.
After their orgasms, Jeff tickled Ehren’s earlobe with his tongue as they basked in their mutual pool of endorphins. Removing himself, Jeff spooned Ehren, his hands stroking xies arms and flanks.
“I’m beginning to think that I would like you around,” Ehren confessed, xies eyes closed sleepily. “What if you stayed here? With me? What would happen?”
Jeff thought about it a moment. Then, his face burst into a wide, warm smile.
“I will.”
One year later
Ehren beamed proudly onstage as a recipient of xies master’s degree. It was an especially poignant moment considering that neither Jeff nor xier had believed xier would be able to ascend the steps to get onstage. Indeed, there had been moments where they hadn’t been sure Ehren would even be alive.
In truth, Ehren had been reaching the credits necessary for graduation six months ago. However, a sudden downward turn in health had forced xiem to take a necessary absence to recuperate. As was common with Marfan syndrome, it seemed that Ehren’s prognosis had worsened: barely thirty, xier had been diagnosed with heart failure.
A rainy night had seen the lovers in bed, as was customary, however the reasons had been uncharacteristically bleak. Through floods of tears, Jeff had cradled Ehren as xier had sobbed hysterically, lamenting xier future, lamenting their love. What had begun as a triste had blossomed into something unlike either had ever known. Jeff had slowly begun to reject his former selfish nature and instead tried his best to focus on Ehren’s wants and needs. The power dynamics had reversed, so that Jeff himself was now the kept secret, biding his time at home as the minutes and hours ticked by. He didn’t dare leave the domicile for even a short period of time, despite Ehren’s assurances that no one would know him. Not only was he convinced he was notorious as he’d been decades ago, he wasn’t sure if anyone could pick out his ethereal qualities from those around him. Not that he considered himself perfect, far from it—that differed from Ehren, who was as close a thing to heaven as he felt he’d ever come. Every inch, every mole and freckle, every dimple and crinkle, every jutting bone joint through xies skin, every giggle and inflection, every idiosyncrasy of thought both spoken and contained within xies mind… Jeff found himself asking where such a man had been all his life, despite knowing full well that Ehren had not yet been born. If not for the fact that death already separated them, Jeff would have made vows, “’til death do us part.” And Ehren, despite admonishing Jeff on many an occasion for his life’s sins, held a profound compassion for him, going so far as to frown if he should ever self-deprecate in any shape or form. Jeff admired Ehren’s studiousness and intellect, whereas Ehren admired Jeff’s tenacious determination to better himself. They fit together like hand in glove, which is what made the news even more devastating.
On another morning, Jeff found Ehren on the eastern balcony of the home, a mug of tea long since forgotten on a small table. There were tears long since dried on Ehren’s cheeks. He had asked what plagued his lover’s heart on a seemingly beautiful early morning.
“Having you around hasn’t just been beautiful,” Ehren began, at first avoiding the question. “It’s been changing me, ever so slightly.”
“Whattya mean, baby?”
Sniffling, Ehren replied, “I saw what I believe was my fylgjur today.”
Jeff knew the old myths, and he received this with a knot of dread in his stomach.
Ehren continued, “I used to think I wanted to be an animal scientist. Go out into the field, take photographs, track populations. This was because my father had a subscription to National Geographic. Ironically, it was another one of his magazines that made me desire medicine instead. But see, the NatGeo magazines, they have these large, pullout centerfolds of images of Africa. How I adored those! And somehow, I got really attached to a bird I’d have no hopes of ever seeing in real life. It’s called a secretary bird.”
With a sardonic bark of a laugh, Ehren then explained that xier had seen one today.
“I didn’t want to wake you. I slipped from out of your arms and I went to the canal, even before sunrise. And it flew in over the buildings, and it landed right in front of me. It had a snake in its beak, they eat snakes. It cocked its head and looked at me, square in the eye. If you’ve never seen one—a picture, I mean—they have gorgeous eyes. Large and brown, with eyelashes. And it stared straight through my soul, and deep inside me, I knew that no one else could see it but me. It was an omen. My reckless nature, I push myself too hard, and now I am going to die.”
With the last word, Ehren’s voice cracked, and xier broke down and sobbed in Jeff’s arms once again.
In time, they both decided that the omen was either wrong, or it would not come to pass yet.
Ehren’s master’s research project, which planned to link cardiovascular health to forest bathing, had been a phenomenal success, and it had come upon him much on accident. Rather than waste xies spoons on xies usual extended hikes, Ehren had taken to going to a local park and simply sitting under any number of its trees. Feeling particularly glum knowing that xies diagnosis all but ensured that xier would never be approved for HRT, Ehren had closed xies eyes and drifted into quiet contemplation. The wind in the leaves above xies head sounded like words of reassurance and sympathy. And that’s when, like a blessing from the gods, Ehren had been struck with serendipity. It had been something the instructors at IPEK had been much enthused about, considering not only their investment in up-to-date research but Ehren’s own health. What was more, so little research had been done involving transgender patients. It benefitted everyone, and it took Ehren’s mind off many things. It was the confidence boost xier needed, and the research boost the school had needed.
Nevertheless, Jeff found that no matter what, Ehren was all man, and would always be one. He often found himself whispering endearments to xier during their lovemaking.
“You sexy, man, you.”
“You’re a beautiful, beautiful boy.”
“You’re the man of my dreams.”
Other days, Jeff would practically edge himself, so riled up by Ehren’s teasing before heading off in the morning. Now that xier had xies degree, xier was looking forward to getting enrolled into xies doctorate program. A selfish part of Jeff, a remnant of his humanity, wanted nothing more than to keep Ehren home and fuck xier whenever he wanted. Sometimes all it took was a glimpse of xies tits or ass as xier got dressed was enough to get him ravenously horny. But, as he was learning now as he never learned before, people were not sex objects, and he loved Ehren much too dearly to ever reduce xier to such.
Love? He often asked himself, could it be?
Among the unanswered questions he had lurking in his mind about his identity, this was yet another. All his memories from his human life had transferred over—where did that leave his sickness? Or was this all just a matter of finally knowing a man as a complete human being?
Cradling Ehren to his chest, he also found himself asking, How can I be dead, and yet I feel all the feelings of being alive? Was he truly dead? Had he been reborn? Could anyone but Ehren see him? How could Ehren xiem selbst see him? Was it because his lover had one foot over the line into his world?
One day, while Ehren was out yet again, Jeff peered into the study at the foreign object sitting upon the desk. For all intents and purposes, it looked like the laptop he had once had, however had barely used. It was, he knew, much more complex. He wasn’t even quite sure how to turn it on. After examining it closely for several minutes, he cursed to himself and, throwing caution to the wind, decided to teleport himself to a library.
In a desolate corner, he eyed what appeared to be another, larger computer, and with some delicate prodding of “the Force,” managed to turn it on. Using the same measured psychokinetic movements, he clicked the browser, then clacked the keys in word patterns. Searching “mythology,” he eventually found names and figures he recognized. He was just eyeing up a page on Wikipedia about his own “species” when, unexpectedly, someone sat down next to him.
Jeff froze, not moving a muscle, not even blinking. He had no idea if the portly man knew of his presence. He watched him go through the same motions of navigation, but then watched him plug in headphones and place them into his ears. To Jeff’s astonishment, he then navigated to a website that Jeff had never seen before, much less known existed, and began browsing through videos. Only, this wasn’t YouTube. This was—
Oh, Lord and Savior, Jeff’s mind lurched. This can’t be happening to me. Why, why does this stuff always happen at the library?
The man, round-bellied, balding, folded his arms and grinned perversely as he enjoyed pornographic material. Behind him, Jeff began to hyperventilate as a man began to folate another man on the screen. He clenched his hands into fists and kept his arms locked at his sides. Invisible or not, he had no business giving into his urges, as he still wasn’t sure if they still dwelled deep inside his brain. He began to sweat and tremble as the man chuckled, sipping coffee out of a tumbler, staring at the muted filth upon the screen. Suddenly, a third man walked into frame, and began to masturbate over the other man’s backside.
It was all too much to bear. Against his better judgment, Jeff sat back at his own station and undid his belt. Matching the man in the video, he rubbed himself lasciviously. He tossed his head back, sighing in pleasure, sucking his bottom lip, grinding his back teeth. The man watching the porn only sat and grinned, making no move to pleasure himself, so Jeff allowed himself to forget he was even there. He squirmed against his hand, Adam’s apple bobbing, eyelashes fluttering, climbing higher and higher, his stomach tightening. He felt his asshole clench, and then hit his zenith.
“You!” barked an accusatory woman’s voice.
Jeff’s eyes snapped open and he flushed in humiliation. For a second, he was sure he would get the cops called on him. But then he remembered, he was dead, he was invisible, which meant he wasn’t the target, for once.
“This is the second time, one more strike, and you will be barred from the premises, abweichend!”
Stumbling away awkwardly and nauseously, Jeff exited the building. He didn’t pay attention to where he was going, only skittered off, mortified and chastising himself for his relapse. He sat on a bench, sweating now from a decidedly different sort of body heat, and buried his face in his hands. He hadn’t even noticed himself seated by the canal until he heard a booming male voice.
“Dahmer! I have been sent by my son to speak with you!”
In other Jeff-related news, we got some happenings in the TCC. She got blocked by one of the fellow Dahmer blogs, and we know how she feels about that.
People are deactivating their blogs due to people sending them hateful anonymous asks. Namely, Comfort Cup and Stolen Mannequin (who I had seen a lot on her blog).
Stephanie pleads for Stolen Mannequin to come back, even adding “and furthermore someone special might want to talk to you, too”), which gives the horrifying implication that if he does come back, Ghost Dahmer will talk to him.
Also complains about people being repelled by her thing for Jeffrey Dahmer. Somebody followed her main and they were getting along but then she found the Dahmer blog and unfollowed, correctly citing that they glorify him and it is not good for their mental health.
Again references it later (I went back later and took more screenshots, hence the timestamps). I doubt she’s actually “beating [herself] up about it” though because Stephanie can do no wrong ever and it’s their fault for not understanding of course.
A couple days ago she was again ruminating on that long ass ask about sexuality and other dumbass shit
Also true crime community twitter is somehow more transphobic than regular twitter
In other news she changed her header and bio
Stephanie defines the difference between cultural appreciation vs cultural appropriation
Her cats (neither are hers)
She at least tries to go on walks but gets winded
What she says here is actually kinda not that far fetched from the other posts she reblogged from
She owned those twitter conservatives though (this did not happen or it happened previously, it is not in the tweets I’m sharing today though).
Senior year of high school somebody told her that she used to be really weird but she was fine now, and she was insulted because she was always weird and still is. Something tells me that this person had not spent time near Stephanie since middle school, or at the very least Stephanie had learned to tone down her retardation in front of people at school.
Progress on her apple tree, this was in the post where she asked for advice with growing one
Long ass post with context included because she tard rages over an incident where somebody insisted she couldn’t be “cripplepunk” because she could walk. but she’s still disabled, both mentally and physically physically! Also note that she calls this one of her most negative experiences on the site. I just got to page 200 of the thread and I don’t think that this even falls in the top 10 of her actual worst experiences on Tumblr.
Hottest weapons
She would pick the spirit realm to try to bone the ghosts
Some tumblr drama, Steph chimes in, saying that she’s had the person blocked. Note that she gets extremely triggered when people block her for seemingly no reason but it’s ok for her to do it lol
She mentions her mom having pancreatic cancer.
Interestingly enough, I left off in my read-through of the thread not too long after she alleged that her mom had pancreatic cancer… Years ago. Context: User makes post about how people can lose weight despite “muh condishuns”, Stephanie has an actual tard rage at the user. I just want to know how her mom survived that shit, because the survival rates are very low. Part of me wonders if she’s just been mistaken for all these years, and it was a different type of cancer, but at the same time I guess it could’ve been less severe and treated in time.
A broken clock is correct twice a day, as Steph demonstrates here when she can’t support transdisabled retards. Btw “transdisabled” means the person feels like they should be disabled in one way or another (it is an actual documented mental illness), not a transgender person who happens to be disabled. Stephanie claims to BE the latter, after all!
Misc shit I don’t care to caption
She gets triggered over a MtF troon dunking on non-binary people. You’re white too and the anti-indigenous thing is a reach. Them “two spirit” people and other non/-gender confirming indigenous people were not trans, because what they believed in and did simply weren’t the same as gender confused people today claiming they don’t have one. Stop acting this stupid.
Also livetweeted a movie, but it’s dumb and i’m not stitching the screenshots together.
LMAO I didn’t even realize she said that, I skimmed the post to write a description and saw “kill them” at the bottom, this makes it even better.
We need a list of our favorite Stephanie quotes, and sadly I only considered bookmarking hilarious quotes 200 pages into my reading of this thread. Here’s an old one that makes me laugh:
“I’m sorry, am I being “delusional and narcissistic” again?!” is hilarious.
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- Joined
- Aug 12, 2016
If only they could turn anonymous off! Oh wait.
Remember the time Jeffrey Dahmer stole a mannequin to fuck but his poor grandmother found it and trashed the thing? Edgy tumblr crime girls remember.
Keep it up, Yarrow! It’s one of the best things you can do for yourself. No joke, no sarcasm.
Disabled people sometimes carry a lot of rage. I can’t really blame them for being mad over fakers. Or the people who insist invisible disabilities don’t count.
Grooming children is about as bad as being a nazi.
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2019
Petey always makes me sad. I have never seen a cat so devoid of life in his eyes. Not in a happy, carefree, one-brain-cell way that some cats are adorable about. Just utterly resigned. This cat has never experienced joy in all his days on this earth. Poor guy.
XxxwernxxX
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Sep 20, 2017
Cancer can be strange, even pancreatic cancer. My grandfather lived about 4 years after stopping treatment, about 7 years after diagnosis. A friend's grandfather was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer in the early 80s, he died from a heart attack in 2003. (Meanwhile her mother was diagnosed with lung cancer in January, died in May. )
Could be pancreatic and she's just one of the luckier ones, or maybe Staph's mistaken, who knows. She's right that we need a lot more research into pancreatic cancer though. Maybe it's because pancreatic cancer seems to mostly be from smoking.
Could be pancreatic and she's just one of the luckier ones, or maybe Staph's mistaken, who knows. She's right that we need a lot more research into pancreatic cancer though. Maybe it's because pancreatic cancer seems to mostly be from smoking.
- Joined
- Aug 10, 2016
In all seriousness, I think bringing back the Hitler Youth and making kids do that would be far healthier than letting reddit raise them until they all start trooning out. The ideology isn't too much worse than some of the shit kids are being indoctrinated with in public education as it is, anyhow. The Hitler Youth activities seem downright wholesome compared to pornsick 12 year olds wrecking their endocrine systems with shitty bootleg cross-sex hormones sent to them by some disgusting DIscord groomer (or Deviantart groomer, we see you Staph) who brewed them with illegally acquired Chinese chemicals. Or a 13 year olds' school trooning them out behind their parents' backs until they find out and try to stop it, resulting in the state taking custody of the child so they can be poisoned with Lupron and given an elective mastectomy. Or... you get the idea. Shit, there are dozens of SRS butchers out there but the Nazis only had one Mengele.
Since Staph reads here I'd like to clarify that despite posting on Kiwi Farms regularly, I'm not a literal Nazi. I just think, like any sane person, that making kids hang up a Hitler portrait and Sieg Heil every morning is a hell of a lot less harmful than introducing them to tranny delusions and the idea of suicide baiting until they decide to cut their dick off so they don't feel left out.
On a lighter note, Staph's neckbeard is fucking hysterical. She already had the retard aesthetic pretty much nailed, but now she looks like she's the drooling group home kind of retard that is way too low functioning to notice or care about her appearance so the whiskers just grow wild since it'd be cruel for a caregiver to wax a retard's chin when they aren't bothered by their gnarly facial hair problem. She could indeed be getting testosterone gel, and probably is. I do wonder though, since she is fat and has had a hysterectomy, is it possible the hair is from just stopping the hormone replacement that's actually appropriate? It's a long shot, but maybe she saw a doctor with some sense who told her going on T primarily for chin hair is fucking stupid and to just use minoxidil if you want a shitty pube beard that bad. (Rate me optimistic, I just really don't want to believe the health care system is such a fucking joke that an absolute retard like Staph who unironically says shit like "durr, my gender is plant" gets cross-sex hormones just by asking for them due to a completely unrealistic idea of their effect on one's appearance. Honk honk.)
- Joined
- Feb 25, 2021
She's going full Amanda Baggs, and we can only hope there isn't more room in the ghost harem for another autistic spoonie transman.
I think she's on testosterone. Like you said, they aren't exactly screening people carefully. Tweens get gender affirmation for acute NLOG; Staph is in her 30s and has a literal master's degree (on paper). Nobody is jumping in to say she's legally incompetent.
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2020
Or the stupid assholes who get fake "service animal" vests from Amazon then proceed to take their untrained animals everywhere, where they act like untrained animals, which makes businesses ban service animals entirely because "hey, this guy with a service dog had it shit in my store and scare my customers." Then an actual disabled person with an actual service animal shows up and can't get service because LOL what's-his-bucket last week just absolutely had to take his stupid goddamn dog to the grocery store. /MATI, I don't even need a service animal, it just pisses me off.
If she has two brain cells to rub together she'll never ever detail what these intrusive thoughts are, but god help me I kind of want to know. What does Stephanie think POCD intrusive thoughts are, and does she actually have them (i.e; isn't using it as an excuse for what happened on DA?) Does she pass a playground and imagine abducting random kids, does she have creepy lecherous thoughts about babies in line at the store ahead of her? What the living hell does POCD even look like? Is she actually having intrusive thoughts that disrupt her day to day life, or is she just feeling lingering guilt and self-doubt after so long being called a groomer? INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW!