Help save a 16 year-old trans girl of color from being put in a mens adult prison with NO crimes charged on her by emailing Commissioner Katz.



She has never been convicted of a crime but they want to move her to near isolation in an adult mens prison. This CANNOT happen. Here is a more in depth article:

I put together an email for Commissioner Katz, so all you have to do is copy and paste it. Click here for the example email

Please reblog to raise awareness!

signal boost, please!

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(Source: projectqueer, via empathy-vs-apathy-nyc)

love x

love x

(Source: cuteanimals, via his-blithe-handmaid)

"I never called Edith Lúthien - but she was the source of the story that in time became the chief part of the Silmarillion. It was first conceived in a small woodland glade filled with hemlocks at Roos in Yorkshire (where I was for a brief time in command of an outpost of the Humber Garrison in 1917, and she was able to live with me for a while). In those days her hair was raven, her skin clear, her eyes brighter than you have seen them, and she could sing - and dance. But the story has gone crooked, & I am left, and I cannot plead before the inexorable Mandos."

— J.R.R. Tolkien, with regards to his late wife, and the inscription “Lúthien” on her gravestone (via celticcasualty)

(via teithorthranduilion)



New story. If you like, spread the word. Please. Thanks to deliciousinterludes for the prompt.

I am a warrior. The blood of my ancestors flows through me pulsating as bright and as bold and as true as it did 100 years before. 200 years. 400 years.

I am a product of generations of real mean, with real strengths, with real cunning, who hunted and fought and slayed their way through thousands of years of war and shit. Only the strongest survive, we know. I am here. Which means, we conquered. We won. Warriors, my ancestors and I. Each and every one.

I do not use a sword. I fight with a pen. Each and every day. Actually, more often, a keyboard. Still … it’s war. I am a warrior in a modern age. I am a survivor on a planet of survivors. We have all tussled our way through the years – natural selection – to make our way to Now. I live on an island of champions. New York. Not old. This is modern Rome. Paris. Athens. London. The center of the universe where the top of the top battle and fight and clash and defeat every fucking day.

There are millions of us scrapping 24/7 just for the morsels thrown to us, whether they be the best seat on the subway or the girl at the bar. You fight and push and shove and fucking hustle. Constantly. All day.

I don’t wear armor. I wear a suit. Tailored. Silk. The label is Italian. The shoes are, too. My haircut costs more than my parents’ mortgage. I work for a bank doing blah blah blah. I tell people what I do and that’s what they hear: blah blah blah. I make six figures, which for Manhattan, makes me almost food-stamp worthy, but it’s enough for me to live LIKE I am worth more than I am.

Read More

(Source: projectqueer, via empathy-vs-apathy-nyc)


Is it a violation of a 16-year-old’s rights to place her in a prison with adult inmates even though she has not been charged with any crime? Her treatment is appropriate and legal because she has “an extensive history of violence” against staffers and other residents of psychiatric facilities, according to the Connecticut Department of Children and Families.

(via empathy-vs-apathy-nyc)




my boyfriend sent me this at 4 in the morning 

im deleting

what are you talking about? this was perfect

(via empathy-vs-apathy-nyc)

(Source: projectqueer, via empathy-vs-apathy-nyc)