#I have not had a unique experience in my life

[xenodelic]

OK so, we've gotten a lot of replies along the lines of, "But I'm just [x], what am I supposed to do?"

This is where we're going to go into our philosophy of non/alterhumanity. To us, there is a purpose to being non/alt-h. We feel this way for spiritual reasons, but it's a philosophy that can be chosen by anyone regardless of their ontological framework.

There is a purpose to being something other than human. There are lessons you can teach humans, perspectives you can give, unique frameworks that can only be understood through the lens of your experience.

For those of us who are nonhuman, we have the unique position of being able to communicate to humans in their own languages, and tell them what it's like. I can tell people what it means to me to be a slime mold, to be connected to the roots of my environment, to hear the trees speaking to one another and to decompose deceased creatures into something new.

I can tell them what it's like to be a lycanthrope, to exist in between worlds, to feel both fundamentally humanlike and beastly and the same time.

These are the sorts of things we can share with those around us. For those who are open minded, hearing these different perspectives can open them up to things they had never considered. It may bring them closer to their natural environment to know that the creatures they share the world with have just as complex and varied experiences as they do. It may help them feel less alone to know there are beings from other worlds and even other realities out there.

We put a lot of emphasis in the original post on direct action, but any open expression of being something Other can be equally as radical. Humans rely on communication to understand the world around them. To us, it's not only something we can do, but it is in fact our duty, our responsibility, to bridge the gap between humans and the other.

That is what the post is about. You have the capability to have an impact on those around you. It may seem small or insignificant, but think about the difference it would make to an insect, if a human decides not to kill them because they have a friend whose an insect. You've changed that person's perspective, and saved a life in doing so.

Your impact matters. YOU matter. The biggest change you can have on the world is to be who you are openly and proudly.

To all the alterhumans / nonhumans who dont know what to do: now is the time for you to start putting your money where your mouth is.

If youre an animal, it's time for you to be a goddamn animal. Be feral, Be aggressive, fight for your life.

If you're a dragon, then be a terror to Kings, and start burning down the halls of power like the dragons of yore.

If you're a mythical creature, have no concern for the social constructs of man. Stand proudly outside what people even believe is possible.

If you're plural, know you're never alone. Fight against individualism that seeks to divide each body into deterministic boxes.

If you're a fictional character who saved the world, believe that you can save any world. Don't back down now.

Now is the time to really believe that you are what you say you are. People in power are going to try to take that away from you. Don't fall for it.

It's time shed any preconceptions you have about what you're capable of. If you're an animal it's time to fight like one. A dragon that uses gasoline and matches is still a dragon.

All bets are off. If they want to treat us like dogs in a cage then im gonna start ripping fascists' throats out like one. And I'd better see y'all there with me, on G-d.

[milky-aeons]

— TO LOVE ME

౨ৎ . . . in which DAZAI OSAMU apologises for being a little too rough.

warnings: semi-nsfw, f!reader, hair-pulling, flashbacks to sexual activity, rough!dazai (he pulled your hair a little too hard), soft!dazai, slight angst, comfort, fluff, non-established relationship, w.c 1.6k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ november — mahalia ft. stormzy ꒱ ˎˊ-

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍.

It was a type of awareness — a fond little quirk, if you will — that you had developed a few months into dating the Armed Detective Agent. Or as far as dating someone like him would go; he never really liked the label, after all. You were both stuck in that chaotic, intoxicating limbo of not quite lovers, but too far gone from friends. Because friends did not stay the night and wear each-others shirts as you washed the dishes, friends did not hum softly into the empty apartment he owned as you waited for him to return with your favourite take-away coffee.

As if your souls were already intertwined, protesting at even the slightest distance, your whole body sang to life when Dazai Osamu tried to sneak through his front door unnoticed.

With wet fingers, you reached over to turn the faucet off just as his airy voice sifted through the air.

"I'm home~"

"Welcome back." You beat him to it.

Dazai made a wrangled sound. "How do catch me every time I try to sneak up on you?" He moaned, his voice coming closer until he rounded the little alcove of his small, one-walled kitchen. "It's almost like you have a sixth-sense, you know? Oh! We should put this unique talent of yours to the test!"

You hummed, following his playful line of thinking. Does his blood thrum to life underneath his skin when you breeze through the Agency offices, you wonder, does his mind eddy of all thought when you cast your eyes his way — just like it does yours?

You did not know. You would probably never know. But he remembered your exact coffee order perfectly, every single time.

"I'm almost afraid to wonder what that would entail." You muse, drying off your hands and leaning back on the countertop. He handed you one of the take-away cups. "But not for me. If I know you at all, Osamu, then you would definitely tie Kunikida-kun up in this elaborate experiment just to set him back a few days on his schedule."

"Pft. A few days?" He echoed, incredulous. One of his eyebrows raised. "How you insult me. If I don't set Kunikida-kun's precious schedule back by at least one month at a time, then why would I even bother at all?"

"You're absolutely right. My ignorant mistake."

"And yes, you do."

"Hm?" You hummed, uncapping the coffee to take a greedy inhale.

"Know me." Dazai finished.

Those two words jarred you a little. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, wordless, the coffee cup held just an inch from your parted lips. Dazai was looking straight at you with that ever-present unreadable expression, but it was a little softer around the edges, a little less impenetrable this time. This was familiar. This is what you two were; you took each other's hand and danced around the truth. You let things hang in the air, unsaid, untouched, staring at one another in his apartment while you wore his shirt like you were both in love — but not quite, not yet.

"Do I?" You said softly. You reached for that thing left unsaid and used it to challenge him.

He tilted his head, amused. Letting you rock the boat. His unkempt curls slid across his forehead when he did. But as always, he said nothing. He danced. He changed the subject.

Do I know you, Osamu?

Instead, he let his dark eyes wander to the dishes you had stacked on the drainage rack. "Wah, [Name]!" He exclaimed with exaggerated shock. "Did you clean the dishes while I was gone?! If you keep doing things like that I'll seriously have to marry you, you know!"

Precarious. A tease. Oh, but he loves to twirl with you close to the fire.

You stayed silent, opting to take a sip, instead. A small, bashful smile fought its way onto your face — you hid behind the disposable cup, but you knew he caught it. Dazai Osamu caught everything, but only with you, did he wear that boyish, self-satisfied grin when he saw the effect he had on your heart.

The sunlight was soft and choppy as it filtered through his broken shutters that barely gave any privacy to the kitchen. It was winter time; Yokohama was bustling, as it always is, but this corner of the city was delightfully sleepy. It was just you and him, enjoying the silence of two people almost in love. A car horn beeped in the distance. You noticed the smattering of freckles on his nose when he stepped forward into one of the balmy sunbeams.

Quietly, Dazai reached towards you. You didn't move — how could you? — as his long fingers half-hidden in bandages danced across your exposed shoulder. A shiver broke out across the skin he barely touched. He noticed. He grew bolder, slyer, letting his lazy touch flutter across your skin; the column of your neck; tickling the nape of your neck and burying into the mussed tresses of your hair—

"Ow—!"

You winced.

Dazai jerked his hand away. "What's wrong?"

You placed your coffee cup down and lifted your fingers to where his own had just been. With ginger movements, you traced the tender spot, your face souring into a grimace at the little shoots of pain that resided there. It was still sore, you noticed. And so did Dazai. When you glanced up at him, his brows had knit together. Not quite a picture of concern — but pressingly curious, his eyes wide and imploring.

And for the first time that lazy morning, you found yourself averting your gaze from him. You stayed quiet for a pregnant moment, searching for the right words as Dazai too, placed his cup down. He dipped his head, trying to meet your eyes. "Bella?" He called again, his voice soft and coaxing.

"Sorry," You chuckled quietly, smiling small. You gave the tender spot another rub before releasing your hand from your hair. "It's just a little sore, that's all."

Dazai's lips tugged down into a frown. "Sore—?" A bell chimed on some astral plane of recognition. His words died on his tongue, his expression halting. You saw the shutter in his eyes then; his mind moving, racing, taking scintillations of the night you two shared and meshing them back together.

You had let him do it before — fisting his lithe fingers into your hair while you were both caught in the throes of passion. As a matter of fact, you quite liked it. He'd bow your head back and decorate your lovely neck with a multitude of bruises, just for you. Or during those times where you took control — settling between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed. You'd start slow first; taking the length of him into your mouth, licking, kissing. But as you picked up the pace and worked him right to a fever pitch — Dazai would wind his hand into your hair. Around, around, until he had a decent grip, and guide your movement just the way he needed it.

It had been an accident last night — but you still had not mentioned it; had not wanted to draw too much attention as you knew he did not mean it. It was a frenzy on both parts. But he had gripped your hair and tugged it a bit too tight. A bit too rough. Leaving the spot at the crown of your head tender as you passed a brush over it once you two were done.

He remained so uncharacteristically silent — staring at you like he was meeting you from a previous lifetime again after searching for so long. You tilted your head, suddenly worried. It wasn't like you were upset with him — so why did he look like that? Like he had revoked any and all permission to touch you? Like he was suddenly afraid?

Dazai was not acquainted with words of apology. He had went his whole life posing as a shadow, looking in on people and never being a part of them. But standing there looking down at you with the realisation that he had hurt you, that he — by his hand — had brought harm to someone like you — a sudden paralysis took hold of his body. He stared at you with wide eyes. He couldn't speak. He felt like he had lost all privilege to be near you — that for the first time in his life, he had met someone so bright and so genuine, and he had succeeded at tainting that, too.

He was abominable. He had always been, it was part of his makeup, ingrained into the lining of his very bones.

And yet, to him, he was also selfish. Because he had the gall to ask for your forgiveness.

"I'm," Dazai started. It wasn't like him to be at a loss for words. "I . . . [Name] I didn't realise . . . "

"Osamu, really — it's okay," You implored, your expression honest. "I know you didn't mean to. I'm fine! Just a little sore, is all." Smile turning lopsided, you turned to fully face him. "How about next time, we just don't pull as hard? I do really like when you play with my hair, but not that rough. Hm?"

Dazai opened his mouth to speak — but whatever he wanted to say got lost between his head and his tongue. He blinked once, twice. Then, in such a quiet voice, he whispered, ". . . I apologise. I'd never try to hurt you, beautiful [Name]. It will not happen again."

It was so resolute. In a tone you have never heard Dazai Osamu speak with before; not quite unsure, but lacking the perfectly precise way he would usually choose his words with. It speared into your chest and made your heart lurch. Such a raw, clean-cut promise. Like he'd burn his own hand before he let himself cause any such harm to you, ever again.

The smile that softened the sides of your lips no longer belonged to someone who was almost in love.

You reached out suddenly for his hand before he could react. You guided his palm to your face, nuzzling into his warm touch, delighting in the soft scratch of bandages against your cheek. "I know. I'm sorry too, for not mentioning it sooner."

I love you, it was the three words you still left unsaid. Because not quite, not yet. Although the way Dazai's fingers curled against the shell of your ear, the way he stepped forward to tug you into his sturdy chest — something about it all whispered the words I love you, too.

from this lovely nonnie // writing requests!

[donnerpartyofone]

What was the process like for writing the novelization for Splice? Would you consider writing a novelization of an existing work again?

Eek I'm being interviewed! I'M SO FAMOUS. There are a lot of parts to this answer. The shortest answer is that I really just watched SPLICE in tiny sections every single day for a very, very long time. I had a certain version of the script to work from, but it wouldn't contain the exact things that were said and done in front of the camera (no script would), so I just studied the movie. I scanned the sets for objects I could not identify, of which there are a LOT -- things I've never seen before, and things I've seen but couldn't name -- and searched online until I learned to describe things like hay trolleys and circulating baths. To me, the point of a novelization is that it produces an interior and sensorial experience not offered by a screen, so I tried very hard to expand on the material qualities suggested by the movie.

It never once occurred to me to change anything. Apparently this is an expectation of novelizations. I had a writeup in Fangoria that was very kind about my ability to make psychological sense out of the things people do in SPLICE, but that expressed disappointment that I hadn't added scenes or anything. I'm such an inveterate, pathetic sort of rule-follower, I didn't even ask myself about this. I did change one exact thing, regarding the kind of candy that Elsa eats, because it was meaningful and amusing to me to do so, but I don't think anybody will ever get it. I also included just a little bit of material from the script that didn't make it into the movie, because it was completely in line with my psychological interpretation, which was what I was most concerned with.

I never thought of SPLICE as a perfect film, but I had a lot of thoughts about it, and I think my main contribution was to explain what these characters are thinking and feeling as they wade into this life-changing and profoundly icky experience together. That became very personal very quickly and I was a little bit afraid that maybe this would be how everyone would find out how totally insane I actually am, but I'm told that that part worked out pretty good -- by Vincenzo Natali, among other people, who is SO NICE AND SMART AND SUPPORTIVE. Best guy! When I turned in my draft to the publisher I thought there might be a little back and forth, I did not expect them to send the raw document directly to Vincenzo and I was very alarmed when I heard from him before anybody else, but I really had nothing to fear. He's one of my favorite people now.

I would definitely do another novelization. Actually I think I'm uniquely suited to this because I have a good dose of aphantasia. I didn't even know until recently that it's statistically weird to think mostly or exclusively in words and to have a very hard time visualizing, like, almost anything. When I started telling people this about myself I was asked, among other things, "How do you do anything if you can't picture what you're going to do?" And I was like, uh...I don't know. Maybe this is connected to my extreme executive problems and my problems with goal formation and followthrough. I mean I think this is true, now. And I developed this sort of half-joking self-mythology that I have to be watching movies every second of the day because I suffer from an image deficit and I need external infusions. Like even when I used to draw (trauma took that away, long story, but I drew all the time for like half my life), almost everything I ever made was swipes -- and I think they're pretty good, like it's worthy as art. But I guess for me, art has to be made out of something external that I manipulate. All the art I've ever made without a reference point has been maybe technically OK but really lifeless, you can tell something is missing. So I think the novelization process was a lot like how I used to draw, where I had a completely concrete external referent and I would just sort of tour it very extensively until I had created a twin of it out of my interpretations. And the twin is like, the same but different, it's a clone made out of feelings and reactions. I think that's a worthy sort of art object to make.

There's a thing I'm working on now that I'm sure I won't be able to talk about for a long while, but it involves writing things from preexisting sketches and prompts, and that's a little bit the same. I don't have as much to go on, but I can tell what the shape of it could be, I just turn it over like, what if it's like this, what if it's like this, what if it's like this. And I know that what I'm turning out is really made out of tropes and archetypes, it's kind of a collage, but if the collaging is really earnest and you're feeling your way along with reasonable naturalness, it can turn into something. It's not that different from describing experiences you've had, if you really think about it. The following comment is NOT MEANT TO COMPARE MYSELF TO A GENIUS but I had this nice moment of synergy recently when I rewatched Kiyoshi Kurosawa's CURE, which to me seems so forcefully unique, but in interviews he says things like, "Well I just really wanted to make an American horror movie," and talks about how his starting point was not personal at all, he just wanted to play with the established tools and ingredients people use to build a certain kind of product. And I thought, I guess that's what I do -- not as intelligently or deliberately, but I get how you can work in a way that sounds so formal and empty, and have it produce something distinctly personal.

Thanks for your fun question!

*Virginia Madsen voice* Oh yes. I forgot to tell you. BUY MY BOOK!

EDIT: Oh I kind of lied, I changed *just some of* the music that Clive listens to, to something that would be easier to communicate to a reader. Like I wouldn't use the exact band on the soundtrack because it was too obscure and specific, but I would talk instead about his genre choices because they went with what I was trying to say about him as a person. I think all of it was still pretty in line with the sounds, and the Clive, that appear in the film.

[runescrepes]

it’s truly a bother when people wildly misinterpret the message of dan da dan, but can we talk about something even big fans have rarely mentioned?

i think the yokai are meant to represent the abused, while aliens are meant to represent the abusive (with exceptions of course.) this sounds obvious typing it out, but i will continue anyways lol.

i don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the yokai have gone through extremely traumatic experiences, while most of the aliens tend to manipulate and take advantage of others. again i’m not referring to all aliens or yokai. clearly peeny weeny is the goat, and kawabanga had a totally normal life, she just passed in a tragic accident, but i hope you guys see my point in this haha.

it’s just such an interesting metaphor for power dynamics and relationships told in the most whacky unique way possible. throughout the decades media has often portrayed aliens as aggressive and scary, whereas ghosts are seen as tragic and oppressed. tatsu seems to lean into these tropes, but in a uniquely dan da dan way. i just think it’s really cool. i’m curious to see where the story will go over time.

[anthonyeater]

So fucking sick of people calling it racist to point out the misogyny in men of color. You could choose to see it as protecting women of color but because you don’t care enough about us you’d prefer to see it as attacking men of color. It’s infuriating, black men have been my main terrorists in life because I am a black woman and those are the men I’ve been around. Am I racist if I notice that the way I experience misogyny at the hands of black men differs from that of my white counterparts?

Are we never going to discuss how vile men of color can be because of their race??? WHAT ABOUT THE WOMEN!!? The women in their communities being treated like less than human don’t give a fuck that you’re being “culturally sensitive” or whatever else. If you’ll turn a blind eye to the unique ways they are being oppressed, you don’t actually care to prioritize women.

I had to force myself through so much shame and fear to call the police on a man who was stalking me bc I didn’t wanna call the police on a black man. I didn’t report my rape bc I didn’t wanna call the police on a black man. And you know what, I fucking should have!! Those men were perfectly fine terrorizing and abusing a black woman! They had no sense of racial solidarity or protection for me. Why should I be trying to protect them from racism?!? I was trying so hard to not be “part of the problem” in perpetuating harassment and violence against black men that they got away with harassing and abusing me. I would hope that if a white woman had seen me being followed home and stalked she wouldn’t be afraid to call the police for me and report his ass. I would hope she saw it as protecting a black woman rather than “attacking/telling on a black man”

Call me an anti-nationalist but I hate India more than US (I know US is shitty, but I am talking about India). Corruption, Patriarchy, shitty rules, shitty people, I'll be happy if I leave this country.

Girls who want to travel India, don't even think about it. Rape cases are so high that people pull out shitty excuses and even, boys younger than 18 years have started to harass us! Still they're not captured!

"Don't kiss in public!"

"Don't go out at night!"

"No pda!"

"Don't dress like this!"

"Don't dress like that!"

Ugh! I'm fucking done! Even if you break one of these stupid rules, you're harassed by uneducated mobs.

So, I suggest to not visit India, because women are getting raped and no one is helping; they're blaming the victim.

[gobstoppr]

Tetris Fanart.

I've been playing tetris while listening to horror podcasts. and yeah

[jackdaniel69nice]

the fact that tokoyami could be considered one of the more important members of 1-A and we still got JACK SHIT about his backstory is so wild to me

like you have this whole idea of him cherishing the relationships he has so deeply to the point of an emotional breakdown whenever someone he cares about gets hurt and you DONT TELL US WHY???

like this boy is so incredibly hard on himself despite improving faster than the majority of his peers and WE DONT KNOW WHY???

my delusional ass was WAITING. for THREE YEARS. and we got nothing. the disappointment i felt was just immeasurable.

My god you are so right. It IS really disappointing. I honestly had no expectations for tokoyami backstory because I had always thought of him as a background character when I got into mha in 2017-2019. The story was still new then but when I returned last year there was so much more tokoyami had become. He plays an absolutely vital role but is treated as a supporting character. We knew him long before hawks but he was obviously pushed aside in favor of the winged hero. There is so much subtle writing about tokoyami especially him potentially having hurt or even killed people in the past. Dark Shadow is such an interesting quirk and character but they are never truly addressed for their insane power.

I would like to think tokoyami would have gotten his own character arc eventually if the ending hadn’t been so rushed for whatever reason. It would have probably been a very large undertaking and I can see how it wouldn’t have been able to fit into the tight schedule. He’s not even mentioned in the epilogue, only seen, despite clearly being one of the strongest characters and would at least be top 10.

I’m so sorry anon that your dreams were crushed. I hope my silly headcanons and stories bring you some closure, I do try to stay as close to canon as possible. Although I am aware my personal experiences and feelings certainly influence my ideas without me realizing. Perhaps you could drop in my dms at some point so we can share thoughts :)

[windsweptinred]

Have you ever stopped and given real thought as to why you like a character? I mean really thought about it. Beyond, they're my precious baby girl, I wish to die melted into a puddle of goo at their gorgeous feet. (Both valid points mind.) But do it, pick a most beloved blorbo and really think why something about them calls to you so much. You with all your own unique life experiences and perseptions. Why them?

There's some profound self realisation waiting right there.

[astrolavas]

it's sound weird, but i have headcanon that Hunter didn't go hexside, because he too old to shool(according to my feelings, at the end of the he is 16-17 y.o (except for the post-credits scene), and at that age it is already too late to go to school):p

i mean, well- in my opinion he rather certainly did go to hexside, since one of the things he'd said during his TTT monologue was "i'd like to attend hexside like a normal student and play flyer derby with my friends" and all of his "wishes" were supposed to sort of foreshadow his goals and his future (carving palismen, studying wild magic, etc etc) so i feel like it's safe to say he succeeded in becoming a hexside student as well. we also know he attended grom with the rest of his friend group, and like- since he's 16 before the timeskip (no canon certainty whether he's recently turned 16 or is going on 17 already though, but like... around 16 canonically) that means he'd get at least 1 year of school, but most likely 2+.

my personal headcanon is that he went to hexside for around 2 years (full or not quite, depending on when the school year starts in the boiling isles and how long it lasts; possibly even 3), and during that time he picked up a mentorship/apprenticeship at del's palisman carving shop, and after he graduated from hexside he started carving palismen professionally with the clawthornes (i like to think that he also takes some courses at eda's wild magic university in his spare time, simply cuz . funny uni hexsquad shenanigans)

[kyouka-supremacy]

(╥﹏╥)

[londonfoginacup]

Hello! I really love your fics, thank you so much for blessing us with all that goodness!! I was wondering, why did you choose londonderrytea/ladylondonderry as your pseuds? Sorry, I'm very curious!!

Ahahahhaha hiiiii anon hello!!

The answer is actually going to be VERY DISAPPOINTING I THINK!! And you look at me with this face: 😒 and point and whisper things like “nerd!” and “dork!”

But alright—

In creating an Internet persona, this was 2014ish and I had created “Londonfoginacup” on a whim when I had meant this to be an aesthetic blog (“what’s an aesthetic handle? Well the city of London, gifs of rolling fog, and gifs of steam coming out of a cup, it’s perfect”)

But I had been looking for a name that suited me more— Londonfoginacup doesn’t evoke a NAME so much as it does maybe an odd BOOK TITLE.

Coincidentally this was a time when I was desperate to become more British because one direction is British, and so I had been frequenting tea stores. I also had been WAY over steeping my English breakfast because I didn’t realise you needed to take the tea bag out, and so was accustoming myself to a particularly bitter taste, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is that I stumbled on a tea called Lady Londonderry tea.

It has STRAWBERRY IN IT, ANON.

It’s a lovely tea. No one near me sells it anymore.

ANYWAY this coincided with my becoming familiar with Derry, Londonderry, because Radio’s Big Weekend was held there in 2013. So the name stuck in my mind because it had TWO connections to me now! Plus, it sounds like a name, since it starts with Lady.

As a side note I did google it at the time and found that there was an Edith Vane-Tempest-Stewart who was the Marchioness of Londonderry, and an influential society member between WWI and WWII, and I quite liked the look of her. So I decided that yes, I shall simply impersonate her. Seriously you should read her wiki she’s rather neat.

SO, it is because of those three facts that I thought, yes! This is who I shall be from now on!

…and then I found out that I could not change my tumblr url because someone YEARS AGO STOLE IT 🙂‍↕️ which is what led to me instead calling my main londonderrytea. Close enough. ah well. Someday… perhaps…

Anyway if you can get your hands on some lady Londonderry tea it’s quite delicious

[sourkitsch]

started reading The Incest Diary

[transmaverique]

gonna be honest I see anyone talking about this "my gender is more complicated than yours" shit as someone who genuinely cannot comprehend that other people that don't share certain traits with them can still in fact have rich interior lives. as an agender trans woman who uses she/her I've never had anyone say it to me who wasn't (usually unknowingly) transmisogynistic

see but im not talking about "rich interior lives" and the assumption that i am is exactly what im talking about. i am talking about the actual physical way that reality treats and percieves me in comparison to the way it treats and percieves you. saying my gender is "more complex" means to me that i am physically incapable of existing in a strictly binary world and that there is no thing i can pass as bc "binary man" and "binary woman" are both incorrect for me. and the Cisiety in question does not allow androgyny to exist - it is exclusively the timeframe people have to decide whether they think you are a cisman or a ciswoman, or a failure and a freak. i dont subscribe to that "binary privilege" shit, thats not how privilege works. but there are differences in the ways both you and i can navigate this strictly binary Cisiety!!! and those differences deserve to be named, imo

like. again. i dont have to comfort you about your own internal sense of gender before youll listen to me about my experiences in the real world as genderqueer. as a different sort of transsexual than you.

(and bc i Know what binary ppl love to say: i know not everyone is 'capable of passing'. what i am talking about specifically is the difference between being unable to pass as a cis woman or a cis man vs being unable to pass bc what i am does not exist AT ALL in a binary society, and both of those things are incorrect ans unattainable.)

(anyways if that language is too imperfect for you thats like fine but. its just confusing to me, i dont get why its hard to understand what we are talking about here. our experiences w our nonbinary genders are completely different! why do i have to discuss them like theyre the same?)

[hella1975]

im being so serious besties i am not cut out for academia

[avataroftheglowcloud]

HI GUYS, MY LOVE FOR WTNV IS STRONG AS EVER AND I WOULD LIKE TO PROPOSE A HEADCANON.

So my good friend @ultimate-dumb-ass has this theory that the longer somebody stays in Night Vale, the more non-human looking they’re likely to become.

And to add onto that theory, I like to think that the reason nobody realises that Cecil and Kevin are doubles — (because like, we all agree that they are, right?) — is because they both look so different to their “default” appearance. Cecil lives in Night Vale, and Kevin was physically changed when Strex took over the radio station (as mentioned in Triptych).

Cecil doesn’t look in mirrors and canonically doesn’t even know what he looks like, and Kevin obviously isn’t mentally all there due to Strex’s brainwashing. He doesn’t seem to remember his old self properly — he literally refers to his past hatred for a corrupt organisation in the most offhand manner ever (as shown in the screenshot below).

So who’s to say he remembers his physical appearance in detail too? The changes Strex made are what seem to be the clearest in his mind, after all. Neither of them are likely to recognise the few, probably almost unnoticeable features they share as their own.

side note - jesus, the tags were supposed to just be a side headcanon but it turned into something with the potential to be a post of its own 😭

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Thinking about how it’s taken to the age of 34 for Taylor to find a partner who is comfortable publicly existing with her and supporting her without a) treating her like a secret or b) eventually seeing her as a, well, ever-lovely reflective jewel, and that’s just wild.

Idk something about that video from yesterday of them just strolling through the stadium hallway like it was chill even in a very weird unchill situation and the vibes just being “we got this” is just… thinking thoughts.