#✰ ◞ t: white flag !

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

btw i forgto its pridemonth happy june to the gays and the aros specifically bcus thats what i drew

[coalburiedinwarmashes]

James Marriott concert DSi photos

[lgcnina]

✰ ◞ WHITE FLAG. a momentary stalemate ( ft. @lgcakio ).

never in her wildest imagination would nina have ever seen herself where she is now, the familiar surroundings of the legacy cafe devoid of its usual life in favor of a rather dense film crew, herself, and her greatest mistake.

akio was her friend ( one in the strangest of ways, but a friend she unfortunately did find herself caring about nonetheless ), there was no denying that undying fact, but that did little to lessen the odd sense of anxiety turning in the pit of ninas stomach— honestly, how was she meant to feel, sitting face to face before her ex with the intent of becoming less awkward in front of cameras?

what a doozy this was, but . . . at least she was certain she wasn't the only one slightly on edge by all of this.

filming had only just started, their first segment for what was sure to be a long day of filming underway— first impressions. "the earliest memory i have of you is of the two us catching the same elevator during one of my first weeks as a trainee," nina begins, a brow raising as she peers at akio. a vague, innocent truth that glosses over what that meeting had momentarily morphed into. "i'd seen you before, obviously, walking around the halls here and there, but that's the first time i can remember actually speaking to you— you were a lot more talkative than i was expecting."

[legionofpotatoes]

been playing bits and pieces of horizon forbidden west! game's pretty as hell

[xumoonhao]

pixel pride flags 💖💖💖 / ver 2

[sorrellegiance]

halfway through baseball practice today, twenty white dudes descended on our field and started putting up cones in the outfield 🙄🙄

[aromanticannibal]

I saw someone complain about how apparently raine was created only to be eda's love interest and op was like hoho ofc the only nb character is a love interest with no character development and like.

I'm sorry I am physically unable to see this as a problem. raine is good representation, like they just are. not ever queer character needs to be incredibly important to the plot to be good rep? also it's not like raine is a side character that was thrown in in the back for cheap rep, they have an important role for eda's developpment and theyre literally the head of the rebellion against belos (aside from eda who rebels against everything). and THEY'RE NOT THE ONLY NON BINARY CHARACTER EITHER?? masha I think is their name is nb too (and they are a very very side character but we already have raine it's not like they're the only nb character again) and the collector uses he/they pronouns im pretty sure. good lord.

I want to bang my head against a wall. how do you Live.

it reminds me of when I saw someone saying TOH is shit queer representation and racist (??? somehow) because it doesn't do enough? bro? the main character is a neurodivergent OPENLY bisexual black latina girl. what do you want MORE. she's in a relationship with her lesbian girlfriend, the world girlfriend was said, trey kiss and hold hand. They put so much diversity in this show it got fucking canceled.

[platanarium]

[pocmuzings]

fuck men but also… i play moc characters as well and then here comes some white writer with their white girl character and it’s like… be fr i’m not doing this

platonic relationships? cool! no problem but romantic? like i don’t mind writing interracial relationships at all, as a southeast asian girl, but anyone but white characters please 😭

NOOO THIS IS SO FOR REAL !! white women in the rpc love to bring their white self inserts and try act like Mary sue’s it’s so PAINFUL and also SO OBVIOUS . even worse is when white women try to use a Mary sue white woman but use a woc fc ?? to try and “ trick you “ . ITS SO OBVIOUS ITS EMBARRASSSSIIINNNGGG . i constantly have my moc say “ ew i don’t like white women “ and god ppl get uncomfortable HAHAHA

[usatrendy]

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[noisycowboyglitter]

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[smartcrafts]

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[chaoswillcalmusdown]

whenever i try to follow people through posts in tags i end up on the wildest corners of tumblr. like. what do you mean that raye post was written by a w*******e ?? in the year 2024 ???

[poniesart]

Here is a little comic I made about some thoughts I’ve been having recently. I don’t ID as transmasc, and I have noticed that since I’m nonbinary and AFAB, some people in queer circles (online and irl) label me as transmasc! This has increased since I started T. Much love to my transmasc siblings, but I don’t identify with that term, and it misgenders me.

I figured if there’s not a lot of acknowledgement or discussion about non-transmasc and non-transfem people who physically transition, I can make some myself :)

Thank you to @/rjalker for the ID below!

[ID: A nine panel comic, done is low-saturated colors, mostly featuring soft yellow and shades of blue and purple.

Panel 1 reads, "I am an AFAB trans person on T." showing a surface with a towel, and an open packet that reads, "1% 25mg".

Panel 2 continues: "And I'm not transmasc." and shows a rainbow flag, and a nonbinary flag hanging above some jewelry.

Panel 3 shows a person walking on a hill, the sky pale yellow and the ground in shades of blue. It reads, "My gender isn't woman, or man, or adjacent to either, or neutra/ 'in-between'." The venus and mars symbols float in the air, in red and blue.

Panel's 4, 5, and 6 read, "It's a separate, other, gender." Showing shoes worn under a light blue skirt, a person wearing a shirt, jeans, and vest waving, and a person without clothes floating among stars.

Panel 7 reads, "Queer people who know I'm on T, or even just know that I'm AFAB, often think I'm transmasc." "They label my experiences automatucally." The same person from before is shown between the two sentences, sweating nervously as though being trapped.

Panel 8 reads, "It feels like misgendering. From people who should know better." The person is shown sittign facing away from the camera, head bowed, lifting one arm across zir shoulder, where half a dozen flags have been stabbed into zir back like arrows, all dark blue, and marked with either the blue mars, or pink venus symbol.

Panel 9 reads, "'Masculinizing' HRT doesn't mean I'm transmasc." Next to a small picture of the person smiling away from the camera, wearing blue glasses, with stubble on zir chin. The next small image is of the chemical symbols for testosterone, with text next to it that reads, "It doesn't mean my gender is male, or male-adjacent." Followed by another small picture of the person, smiling with hearts next to zir face, wearing the nonbinary pride flag like a blanket or cape.

The yellow background fades downward into the nonbinary flag, with stripes of yellow, white, purple, and black, here with the purple and black in shades of blue. The text reads, above a final drawing of the person, wearing a pink sweater and a blue skirt, smiling up at the camera and surrounded by small sparkles, "It just means I'm a nonbinary, genderqueer person who is becoming more like zirself. And that just happens to involve HRT!" with a smiley face emoji at the end.

End ID.]

[fluffyzoey]

Why I should be president of the USA

-I would make Femininomenon the National Anthem

-All Cybertrucks would be destroyed on the spot

-It is now illegal to call an Aromantic person “basically straight”

-Free T and E for anyone who wants them

-I will replace the American flag with a polka dotted red white and blue one with a cartoon eagle in drag on it. I saw this in a dream btw.

[tofuxtea]

𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍 | torture + non-con

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — art the clown x fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, art the clown in general, torture, non-con, slight kidnapping (?), bondage, knife play, blood + blood play, violence, fingering (not sanitary knowing art, wash yall’s hands !!), slight dacryphilia

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — foreword, i do NOT condone anything in this fic ! david howard thornton himself actually said art would be against this and i find art a comfort character, this is just for kinktober purposes 😞 if you guys are NOT comfortable with non-con or torture please do not read this, spare yourself the pain please i beg 😭 i will not be upset bruh

you were a force to be reckoned with, that much was evident.

whether it was because you were drunk or with a friend group that made peer pressure feel good, it didn’t matter to the black and white clown you approached at the club. he had been standing there for the past hour or so, staring at you through the split in the crowd.

obviously he had a crush on you. that was what your friend whispered in your ear with a little nudge to your side and a drunken giggle.

your devil costume left very little to the imagination, faux red leather hugging your curves. that had to be it, without a doubt. you had already been getting attention throughout the night, so this was only more fuel to the fire that was your ego.

his costume was detailed to say the least. the fake blood on his costume looked rusty as opposed to the cherry coloring on everybody else’s clothes and faces. he must’ve made it himself.

it took a few more pushes of encouragement until you finally went up to him, wondering why he was unable to take his eyes off of you. it wasn’t flagged as creepy in your fogged mind, rather flattered.

“you’ve got a staring problem, don’t ya?” you shouted over the music with a giggle, leaning against the bar counter for support. your high heels definitely didn’t cheap out on the high part.

looking at him up close definitely made your mind wander a little more. he was much taller than you — likely over six foot — and seemed pretty lanky under that suit. his eyes were a brilliant blue, starkly contrasting the black makeup neatly circled around them, and they couldn’t seem to get away from you. his hooked nose, as well as his entire face, was painted white and had a singular black dot on the tip of it.

something about him piqued your interest, and it only grew when he didn’t answer you. instead, he smiled and tilted his head down, like he was feigning some bashfulness. it was cute. you respected the commitment to the act.

“i don’t suppose you want something from me?” those drinks you had earlier were kicking in, making your confidence soar to unnatural heights. “what’s your name?”

you expected him to drop his little facade and lean in and tell you. but he didn’t. he reached for your wrist and shifted your palm upwards. you were beyond curious, but allowed him into your space.

he dragged his finger across your palm a few times, you piecing the motions together. a-r-t. “art. oh, your name’s art?” the clown nodded with a wide grin.

that wasn’t his last trick, it seemed. from the palm of his hand, he revealed a fake red rose. the synthetic petals were slightly crumpled and stained with drops of something even darker than its natural color.

it was a little corny, but you blushed nonetheless. it was sweet. he gestured for you to take it, so you did.

“hey, let’s get outta here. the music’s making my head hurt.” the second part was a lie, but your motives were relatively pure. you thought that he was only silent because of the volume. maybe the fresh air would make him open up a little bit more.

art nodded a little too eagerly and started moving you towards the door. you could only give your friends a very brief glance, them offering you smiles and raised thumbs before you vanished outside. you would soon wish that they’d kept you inside.

you took in a deep breath of fresh air outside, observing the parking lot. there was not a person in sight. they were all inside. except for you and art.

art. you spun around to see where he had gone and found him hunched over a black trash bag. initially, you were going to pull him away from it, thinking he was digging through waste when he suddenly straightened up and turned towards you. his hands were behind his back.

words got caught in your throat and you found yourself laughing to fill the silence. a wave of anxiety washed over you until art revealed another fake rose. this one was attached to a plastic stem.

but while you graciously accepted his second offering, you failed to notice the bat he had brought down onto the side of your head.

—

you never had a concussion in your life, but you were sure this was what it felt like.

you awoke to a blinding headache and nausea bubbling in your stomach. your vision refused to adjust properly, but you couldn’t miss art’s black and white suit in front of you. your depth perception wasn’t the most reliable, but your body knew to start acting.

you went to kick and scream but found it futile. duct tape muffled your cries, though it was ripped off faster than you could register it was there, and thick rope around your limbs kept you still against the table you were draped over. a few blinks helped you understand your predicament: you had been moved to some sort of warehouse and were tied down to a cold, steel table that had goosebumps prickling on your exposed skin.

your clothes were intact, which made you sigh. one victory.

though you weren’t sure for how long. art hovered over you from the side of the table, his sick grin mocking you as he eyed you from head to toe. it felt like he had already undressed you just by the way he was sizing you up.

that came next. with his one hand that was free, he started to drag his finger down the center of your chest. the closer he got to the low-cut hem of your top, the louder your protests became. art was prepared for that.

he brought a thick chain with several rusted scalpels and medical scissors down onto your legs, creating multiple shallow breaks in your skin. you screamed out. he whipped you again. this time you bit back guttural cries and accepted his hand.

his face screamed disgust and disbelief, like he couldn’t believe that you would ever ask him to stop. the way his creased white face morphed was eerie. it rendered you silent while he unzipped your tiny red corset.

you flinched when it popped open, exposing your tits. you hurried to cover yourself but your arms only moved as far as the rope allowed you to. either way, art flung his chain at the arm closest to him and you had to choke back a scream.

blood seeped from countless wounds, warmth running down and onto the table. you squirmed and cried as much as art allowed you to. he seemed to enjoy your agonized writhing, running dirtied fingertips over your open cuts.

“please, please,” you whined. it was mindless rambling at that point because you knew he wouldn’t.

he had shifted his attention down to your pleather skirt, slowly undoing the zipper on the side. you wanted to kick and fight but you dreaded the idea of getting cut into even worse. so you let him peel it off of you, along with your panties.

“oh god, oh god,” you sobbed, clamping your legs together to keep some of your dignity. art must have been keeping a spare blade tucked in his hand because suddenly he sliced deep into the side of your thigh. you couldn’t help the scream that tore from you, which earned you another gash along your ribcage.

you started to think he was bleeding you dry as slowly as he could. but not after he had his fun first. your body shook underneath his gloved hand as it traveled down your stomach and towards your bare pussy.

part of you thought he was going to force your legs apart and jam as many scalpels inside of you as he could manage, so you resisted when he tried to pry them open. but when he did, after lashing you a few more times, he ran his blood soaked fingertips through your folds, making it slick for him.

it was nauseating at first. but after he pushed two fingers into you, the strange sensation of his fingerless gloves sliding inside, that feeling simmered into pleasure. you choked on a whine, your body fighting the urge to roll your hips into his hand.

your skepticism prevailed the second he slid his blade across your stomach. you cried out, and art felt your cunt squeeze around his fingers. the reaction was satisfactory to him and he gave you a few more markings before deciding you’d had enough for now.

the blade clattered onto the table a moment later and his freed hand went to your breast. you couldn’t deny what it did to you. the pain was beginning to make you delirious and you melted into his touch a few times. you pulled against your restraints but it didn’t get you very far.

for a while, he worked into a steady pace that had you crying out with more pleasure than pain. your cuts stung, but those sharp pains added to your rapidly building orgasm, that was only really accumulating with your eyes closed.

art didn’t seem to appreciate that, quickly finding his blade and carving something into your skin. it tore you out of your momentary tranquility and a scream ripped from your throat. as you did, his other hand curled inside of you and a moan fought to follow. pain and pleasure battled inside of you, and it was sick that the pleasure was threatening to win.

your body twisted to get away from the scalpel in your side but it was to no avail. he cut and sliced until he had crudely carved the word “CUNT” into the fleshy part of the side of your waist. blood oozed out of the deep gashes and art ran his gloved hand through it, smearing it all over your skin. crimson covered your breast as he came up to grab it again.

you got the message to look him in the eyes while you came, which came soon after he added a third finger. how he was able to do it with ease made you sick. you shouldn’t have been enjoying yourself in any way. you would probably need stitches and therapy after this.

but now, all you could focus on was his long fingers. the feel of his fabric white fingerless gloves inside of you, probably soaked with your blood and slick. your gashes burned every time your back arched off of the table but somehow, it intensified the growing fire in your stomach. that tensing of your thighs, the weak thrusts of your hips that attempted to match his.

it amazed you how he was still silent, blue beady eyes focused on you and only you. they started to widen when your moans went pitchy, like he was encouraging you to let go. he didn’t look so scary then. his face went closer to yours, and he was shocked that you didn’t immediately flinch back.

he offered you slow nods as his fingers continued their assault on you. your thighs parted in acceptance and defeat, your orgasm finally crashing into you. moans came out mingled with sobs because it was over.

your mind was spinning, and he granted you a moment to compose yourself before getting back to work. breathy pants quickly turned into raspy screams once more as he swiftly carved something else into the bloodied inside of your thigh:

ART WAS HERE