#I just wanna make gender

[nanowatzophina]

:( trying to figure out choice script is hard…

[butchlifeguard]

we need to destroy the idea that girls should wear makeup. normalize bare faces on prom queens and flower girls and cheerleaders. no products at all instead of '7 product simple makeup routine.' no more 10 step skincare and regular facials and dermablading and gua sha just to be comfortable with yr natural face. i want to see eye bags on the funny librarian and acne on the swim coach and wrinkles on all our adult role models. i want to see a 16 year old girl that has never tried putting on eyeshadow. i want to see a 7 year old girl who doesn't have to go out and buy powder for her dance recital. i want to see trans women and girls everywhere to never have to wear makeup, regardless of how well they 'pass.' no more 'contouring to look masc' either. a post-beauty industry world is possible

reblogs are on but if you bring up the stage makeup point that i have addressed three times yr blocked on sight ☹️

[bumblingbabooshka]

Thinking about marriage/women's rights on Vulcan Some may think that T'Pring not being allowed to divorce Spock was because he was going through the pon farr but if she were allowed to divorce him at all she probably would have done that a long time ago, confirmed by T'Pol when she's speaking with Koss, who isn't suffering from the pon farr. She says that he can choose another mate (without invoking a fight it seems: note the difference between a 'mate' and a 'challenger') and after he makes it clear that nothing she says will change his mind about marrying her, she finally threatens to declare a kal-if-fee. It's clear that Vulcan women cannot divorce/refuse to marry a man they've been betrothed to under any circumstances if A) He himself doesn't consent to ending their marriage or B) She doesn't have someone else waiting in the wings to be given to in his stead. Though, if the challenger she selects fails to win the fight, she'll have to marry her betrothed anyway unless (again) he decides he doesn't want her after the challenge. That seems like an incredibly unfair system, heavily biased towards men. SNW is an alternate universe in many obvious respects but most egregiously in that T'Pring has a lot of non-canonical agency over her relationship with Spock. It's interesting to me that Vulcan society has women in many positions of power and treats women as equal to men from what I've seen despite these laws. We don't really see Vulcans exhibiting a misogynistic attitude towards women in general but in TOS (perhaps because of its general writing style but it's still interesting to note) both Sarek and Spock take on patriarchal attitudes specifically regarding wives. Amanda says that 'of course' Sarek commands her because "he is a Vulcan and I am his wife." It's worthwhile in my eyes to note that she specifies 'wife' instead of attributing this attitude to women as a whole. Again, with TOS' writing style it wouldn't be out of place for her to say "he is a man and I am a woman." Spock, while in a pon farr induced irritation, states that it's "undignified for a woman to play servant to a man that isn't hers" - again implying that there's something specific about being a Wife in Vulcan society which is different from being a woman in general and demands subservience to a husband. This could perhaps stem from the extreme sense of ownership that Vulcan law has permitted men to have over women. A woman legally cannot point blank refuse marriage. There is no option which guarantees she won't have to marry her betrothed other than death. When T'Pau speaks of T'Pring she refers to her as being 'property' and Stonn, before being interrupted, states he's made 'the ancient claim' - we don't know what this is because he gets cut off but it's obvious they're both using the language of Vulcan law. Men are permitted true freedom to choose. If a woman wants to choose someone else to be with there is no option available to her other than the kal-if-fee which might result in the death of the one she wants to be with. And, if her lover fails, her husband can still just decide he wants to marry her and she'll be forced to. T'Pring gives two scenarios: One where Spock 'frees' her and one where he doesn't - it's still ultimately his decision which is clear when he ends the conversation with "Stonn, she is yours." This again isn't just because of the pon farr as T'Pol also goes through this. Koss can choose another mate and when the option is talked about there's no implication that this would result in any sort of fight (both by the casualness of its mention and by the fact that there's no formal word for it unlike the kal-if-fee.) Also, the fact that Koss does eventually grant T'Pol a divorce and it's all fine means that T'Pol isn't lawfully required to have another man waiting if her HUSBAND doesn't want her. It's ONLY required if SHE doesn't want her husband. Tradition must take precedence over individual desire UNLESS!!! You're a man. Then it's fine. Like, your parents might not be happy but legally you're golden.

[mooneggtarts]

Genderbent TIME!!!!! currently we have Alessya, Rosa, and Lucine in the picture.

I'll draw more once I finished the Radioapple week and the first part of the AU comic.. yep.. lots of work

[dotted-clouds]

mods are asleep, time to post my god x lawyer toxic yaoi at 1am

[bunnyboy-juice]

NO MORE ASSOCIATING THINGS WITH FEMMES ONLY BECAUSE THEY ARE PINK!HYPERFEM FEMMES ARE GREAT AND I LOVE YOU CAMPY FEMMES WHO EMBODY PINK BUT ALSO JESUS CHRIST CAN YOU GUYS NOT GO MORE THAN ONE DAY W/O TRYING TO SHOEHORN FEMMES INTO BEING ONLY PINK UWU BABIES. I AM FEMME AS IN GRASS AS IN DIRT AS IN TREE BARK AS IN WEEDS SPROUTING THROUGH THE SIDEWALK CEMENT. FEMME AS IN GENDER NONCONFORMITY AS IN FUCK YOU MY FEMININITY IS WHAT *I* SAY IT IS. FEMME AS IN DEPTH AND DARKNESS AND WARMTH AND TERROR. FEMME AS IN CAVES. FEMME AS IN LIGHTNING. FEMME AS IN AN AMALGAMATION OF TRAITS THAT I HAVE DECIDED ARE FEMININE REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIETY SAYS. FUCK IS IT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!???

[m1d-45]

room 11-13

summary: albedo is weird. no, not just weird- disgustingly strange.

word count: ~2.5k

-> warnings: implied stalking [him -> you] ; he is a weird creep!! brief + non described mentioned nudity (of reader, within a drawing)

-> gn reader (you/yours) in a modern au !

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

your roommate was… interesting, to say the least. not that you really had many expectations—unlike apparently everyone else, you didn’t come to university with a plethora of friends packed in your bag. you had no names to list on your housing contract, no familiar faces to look forward to when you came home, just you, a handful of cardboard boxes and a lingering sense that you’d forgotten something.

there was nothing you could pin about him. nothing in specific, no one catalyst you could point to. sure, you don’t see him often, but that isn’t inherently a bad thing. there’s nothing wrong with not going out much, there’s nothing wrong with being a quiet person when you’re living with a stranger. the common room is clean, the sink is (relatively) empty, and none of your things in the fridge have been eaten. he really, by all standards, should be a perfectly fine roommate, but…

albedo was a quiet man. you first met him when you moved in, delicately pouring exact amounts of water into a small tins over the sink without a single sound or stray droplet. he looked up, you exchanged names, and that was that. the rest of your day was spent unpacking in your room, barely hearing the click of his door closing.

you never quite asked what he was doing that first day, but you could put two and two together. he had a habit of leaving pencils or erasers or other supplies on the coffee table, and you often ran into him when he came out of his room to fetch them. you’re not quite sure how you never see him in the living room when you never told him your schedule, but… well, whatever. it didn’t take a genius to know that the guy with charcoal smears across his hands was an artist. and, if you’d somehow missed those, you sometimes ran into half-used palette in the fridge, beads of paint in a myriad of colors sealed neatly in plastic containers, changing every time you checked.

you weren’t sure why they were always there, as you’d definitely seen one when he was in the dorm, but… well, it’s not really your business, is it? maybe he’s busy, maybe he doesn’t want to paint, maybe he’s taking a nap, who cares. you grab what you need and go back to your room; there’s more important things to worry about than a stranger’s hobbies. honestly, you shouldn’t spend so much time thinking about him. you could hardly claim to know someone you never saw.

well, except when you did see him.

you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge as you came back from your chemistry lab, not minding the usual palette of paint beside it. also as usual, you heard his door open as he remembered some random item, not minding the sound of his footsteps as you receded into your own room-

“wait! ah- please…”

you forgotten what his voice sounded like. it’s mostly out of shock, not recognition, that you turn around, seeing him lingering in the entrance to his half of the dorm. his hair is loose around his shoulders, catching the light from the window and glowing gold. his apron is stained with a rainbow of paint, matching the perpetual lines across his hands, and he seems a bit too nervous to be talking with someone he’s been living with for a few months now.

“…i couldn’t make it to the lab today,” he starts, words measured and not at all like his original call, practiced instead of panicked. “could i borrow your notes?”

…you’re in the same chemistry class? you’d never noticed. then again, you’re not sure you could pick him out of a crowd—it’s not like you two were exactly close… but giving him your data was honestly a non-issue. normally you wouldn’t think twice about it, except if he was in your lab section then he should know the rules about missing them.

��you’re going to have to retake the lab anyway, aren’t you? my report won’t help you at all.”

he blinks, like he’d forgotten that fact, and you half hope that’ll be the end of it. you still have your own work to get to, after all.

“still… it would give me something to reference, so when i do it i’ll know if my results are reasonable.” his brows are drawn, genuinely worried, crystal blue carrying a surprising amount of emotion despite the careful cadence of his words. “i’d greatly appreciate your assistance on this matter… i don’t have a reliable way to contact anyone else in the class.”

it only takes you a few moments to weigh the pros and cons. at worst, your partner can back you up if he tries to steal your work. at best, nothing happens and you’ve earned a bit of goodwill.

you shrug, taking off your bag and setting it on the counter, unzipping the main pocket and digging for your lab manual. you find it and flip to today’s lab, mentally wondering what an artist would think of the irritated scribbles down the side of the page. whatever the case, you hold it out toward the hallway he was before, only to find him barely a foot away. he’s stood over your shoulder, letting your manual bump into his chest without a flinch, without an ounce of the worry from before.

without an ounce of anything at all, really. his face is flat, empty, just staring down at the words in front of him without seeming to read them at all.

“…sorry,” you start, “i didn’t hear you-”

“don’t be sorry.” with a blink, he’s back, taking the manual with a gentle smile. “thank you for your help. i’ll return it by tonight.”

“…yeah, take your time.”

you’re not going to question what or why whatever happened did. it’s.. just easier if you don’t. you grab your bag and go to your room, focused on anything else.

you don’t find it in the common area, on the coffee table or by the sink or in any reasonable area. he doesn’t knock on your door to return it. no, instead, you trip over it the next day as you leave your room, squinting in the dark to see it laying on the carpet, a note taped to the front.

yeah, you’re not reading that. not now, at least. you’re certain albedo is a nice guy, if socially awkward, but… you can give him the benefit of the doubt later. you shove the note in a drawer and forget about it, going to class. if you just ignore it, you won’t have to deal with it.

it must not have been anything important, because he doesn’t ever bring it up again. it’s almost as if nothing happened. there’s a new pencil on the common room whenever you walk by, he ducks his head and smiles sheepishly when grabbing it, and nothing is new. you try to look for him in the lab, if only to be courteous, but never find him. it’s not a big class… but whatever, you’re not too familiar with his face anyway. after a week or two, you stop trying.

it’s wishful thinking, really.

you have to do a double take when opening the fridge one day, the paint on the palette looking, from the corner of your eye, like a human hand. it’s just skin-toned paints, delicately mixed into a color that somewhat looks like yours.. by the looks of it, he must have fussed with the tint for a while. normally there’s only small bubbles of paint, but this is excessively fine refinement.. he must just be a perfectionist.

you can’t leave your room without running into him. not just like before, with brief intersections as he grabs what he’s forgotten, but actual interactions. he sits on the couch, drawing in a small notebook, asking you about your classes like he’s not supposed to be in his own classes. sure, he could be taking some online, but it’s like he never leaves the dorm.

he asks as usual, one day, what class you’re going to. when you finally gather your courage and ask why he himself isn’t going to the lab, he startles, like he’d forgotten he was attending. there were plenty of reasons why he wasn’t going—maybe he was in a different section of the class, or he had a car and had reduced travel time, or quite literally anything other than silence. but he sat there, staring at you like you were the one who had mixed up your schedule, with the same painfully empty look as before.

you left soon after that.

if asked to describe albedo in three words or less, you’d fumble for a few moments before landing on “fine, but weird.” if asked to do so with any other level of detail, you’d probably end up saying the exact same thing.

and that’s fine. you didn’t really expect to become best friends with your roommate. but for archons’ sake, he’s just so… uncanny.

you’ve never seen any other food in the fridge but yours. you cannot remember ever seeing or hearing him leave or enter the dorm, or ever remember not seeing some sign of him being there. his door was perpetually closed, the faint sound of scratching coming from behind it, and he’d just… freeze at random. like he recedes into himself, leaving a hollow husk until he returns, eyes left as flat disks set into an unfeeling face. there’s nothing inherently wrong with not showing many expressions, but whatever he’s got going on is far more concerning than that.

so really, who could blame you for being curious? his sketchbook is just there, laying open on the table, only partially masked by the small bag of supplies next to it. the door to the bathroom is closed, you really shouldn’t be invading his privacy like this, but it’s not like he even bothered to close it.

still, it’s wrong.

still, having something solid to point to could really help if you ever need to make a complaint to an RA.

oh archons, this is such a bad idea.

before you can convince yourself not to, you walk over and sit in his usual place on the couch, picking up his sketchbook and gritting your teeth through the fact that there’s no way this is morally justified.

the current spread is plain. it’s entirely in pencil, repeated iterations of different kinds of jewelry. rings, with ornate spirals and diamonds along the sides, leading into a gem of many different cuts. some simple stud earrings, some hoops, a necklace draped around a half-drawn bust, the chain sketched to look like blooming flowers strung together. there’s some notes in another script, but other than that, it’s entirely normal. there’s nothing weird about a guy that draws bracelets in his spare time. but your mind itches to find a justification, searching for proof, and you’re already in too deep. despite your better judgement, you turn the page, doing your best not to drop it when you do.

it’s you.

you, at least six times on two pages alone. smiling, waving, fixing your hair, by the seven you feel faintly sick, fingers digging into the pages as you try to rationalize what you’re seeing.

it could just be a one off. maybe you have a particularly interesting face to draw? except the next page is the same, and so is the next, and you flip through them all with the edge of your thumb and it’s all you.

all of it. every single page that has ink on it has your face. from the very front to the very back, with only a page or two of white left, and it’s clear that the jewelry was an intentional decoy. there’s a spread dedicated to just your hands, one to various outfits he’s seen you in, one- archons, one in various stages of undress, barely granting you the dignity of keeping them from the waist up. the worst part, really, is how accurate they are, clear proof of just how much time he’s spent staring at you.

you recognize his voice now, quiet and measured as he calls your name. that could just be your heart in your ears, though.

he has that same blank expression again, standing in the doorway, looking between you and the book. you’re certain he can see the paled fingertips of your grip on the cover. “do… do you not like them?”

“…what?”

he settles back into himself, sad, shoulders slumping and eyes downturned. “they’re just practices, i promise. the actual painting looks much better…”

bile threatens the back of your throat. “the painting?”

“yes, the painting. the one i mentioned in my note…”

…the note. his note. the one you didn’t read. the one he gave you after a grand total of one significant interactions, before which you all but considered him a ghost. and he decided that making a painting of you was a normal thing to do?

“…it makes sense you forgot it. i can’t imagine i’ve ever come close to properly capturing your beauty… it doesn't matter the medium, i never seem to get it right...”

he crosses his arms, picking idly at his lips with one hand, like he’s discussing a particularly annoying problem on his homework and not the fact that he has drawings of you topless. after a few moments of mumbling, he shakes his head. “i’ll do better. i promise i will. one day i'll draw something that finds even a fraction of your perfection.”

you don’t care. all you want is to get out of here, to lock your doors and try not to call the cops while he’s in earshot. “it’s fine, albedo”

the lie is a poison that seems to sting him upon arrival, a ripple of shock crossing his impassive expression. “it's not fine, not at all. how can i call myself an artist if i fail to impress my muse? please, give me time, i promise i can do better-”

“it’s fine,” you repeat, setting the sketchbook down and realizing with another stab of disgust that he’s written your name on the front cover. you stand, hands buzzing with the echo of what you’ve witnessed, not caring for the crestfallen look on his face. “…you’re a talented artist,” you grit out.

and you’re going to be sick.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

John Price who almost bursts into tears when he hears Grumpy!Reader's kid call him "Dad". It has been a year or two since you two started dating and he's really ingrained himself into your family. He loves your kid as if it's his kid, and he swears that one day, they will be his kid.

If your kid's a teenager, then them calling him "Dad" is most likely in a teasing, exasperated manner.

They were just leaving the house to go to the park with their friends and they had said goodbye to John. He calls out to them to be safe and they respond, "Yeah, yeah. I'll be safe! Bye, Dad!" And they don't miss a beat after saying it, opening the front door and leaving the house.

And John's just left there, standing wherever he is, wondering if he heard it correctly. Even if it had been in a teasing manner, the man is on cloud nine. He got called "Dad" by the very kid he loves and thinks of as his own. He's Dad now, he'll only ever respond to it when talking with your kid.

If your kid is younger, then it's mostly genuine when they call him "Dad".

John's in the kitchen, making them whatever lunch they want. It's a Saturday afternoon and you just went out to get groceries for the upcoming week, a common occurrence on a Saturday. Maybe he's making them dinosaur chicken nuggets or a sandwich, whatever it is, he plates it on the table.

"Here you go, kid," he says, watching with a fond smile as your kid lights up with happiness. A deep rumble of contentment is heard from his chest. "Eat up."

They do so happily, taking a bite of the food. "Thanks, Dad!" they reply, shoving food into their mouth.

He's taken aback, shocked by it all. He had never thought they'd call him "Dad", but it feels so right. And he's ecstatic for the rest of the day, unable to shake off the bright grin on his face. He happily spends the rest of the day doing whatever your kid wants, his heart soaring with happiness whenever they call him "Dad'.

That night, no matter which type of kid you have, John's laying beside you in bed, you fast asleep. And he's on his phone with his brightness turned down, looking at engagement rings. Because he's going to get married to you, officially be in this family. He's not letting you or your kid go, you're both his now.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!

[juney-blues]

when a cis person gets medical surgery and treatment to allign closer with their coercively assigned gender at birth, that is in fact, different, to when a transgender person does it.

yes, even if they're the same surgeries! and yes, even if the cis person is intersex!

that does not make a cisgender person meaningfully "trans" in any way what are you people talking about?

being transgender is kinda, fundamentally about being a different gender than you were assigned at birth! and the societal pressures that come with being that are always going to be different than someone who has the same gender that society assigns them!

like this line of thought implies that, being transgender is just a process of surgeries and hormones and medicalization? which, i shouldn't have to tell you that's transphobic but it kinda fuckin is !

i'm sorry but this is just a nonsensical concept and following it to any of its logical conclusions implies really weird things about transgender people and intersex people.

[xenia12]

Damian in the Wayne Family Adventures artstyle:

I love it sm. This child slays (ahaha)

[aeb-art]

note: the following is three (almost four) years post-game

okay fine i'll just draw comics for my au since writing is so dang hard smh

anyways welcome to two coins! where loop shows up again but siffrin only got the one hat ending

edit: part two

[deoidesign]

A frustrating development with the growing lack of reading comprehension I've personally noticed is an emerging fervor of insisting things aren't canon unless they are explicitly stated beyond all reasonable doubt.

I can not emphasize enough how harmful a mindset this is to have. Yes, it's wonderful to have characters outright say "I'm trans," but to deny a character's identity for not saying that is dangerous.

Plenty of real people prefer not to use specific labels. Historically, people didn't have our modern terms or modes of expression. Many modern cultures don't use these terms, either, and plenty of people within those that do can't safely openly identify.

If the only representation you accept as canon is within modern (and let's be honest, wealthy white able-bodied American) standards, then you are denying yourself and others a huge amount of representation and seriously limiting the media around you.

[solo-walker]

IN LOVE with the way Tom sits in the latest longform

[itsmistyeyedbi]

I am waving my hands in the air, trying to call all the A x N fans! There's something I've been thinking about that I'd like to hear your thoughts on.

When it comes to this ship, the combinations we usually see are Ava x Nat, Ava x Nate, or Adam x Nate. And I've been wondering - there hasn't been much, if any, Adam x Nat things out there, is there? I think I remember one art piece, but that's about it. And I might have dreamed that up lol. Why is that, though?

Is it because that version of the pairing is the most likely to fall into stereotypical roles? It certainly can; the strong, stern, closed off white man who mainly opens up to the charming, compassionate, brown woman is...not great, to put it lightly. And A being the commanding agent could complicate that even more.

But there could be ways to subvert that, couldn't there? N expresses their thoughts and opinions whether A agrees with them or not, and we see them pushing back from book 1. And A has been a great source of comfort for N, it's definitely not a one-sided thing. And their both bisexual, with A being demisexual too, so maybe there could be some complexities in the cisheteronomative roles thay could fall into. Especially considering the time periods they're from. (And if you're down with PD's headcanon of N being demiromantic, that could be a thing that subverts expectations as well).

It surely can't just be because it's an m/f version of this ship, there's some amazing Nate x Ava fics out there that I read to this day.

But maybe there isn't enough there that could make a Nat x Adam pairing not feel like stereotypical? I'm not sure.

This isn't a callout or a critique or anything like that. I am genuinely curious about hearing everyone's thoughts on it. Do you think something interesting could be explored with them, or are they too close to stereotypes for you to be interested in it?

[neotomiccccc]

My experience and mine alone.

[roachesbf]

Heyy i hope your doing ok!

I wanted to request a Soap x male reader, its very similiar to your rabbit!Rudy x Jessica!male reader story but hear me out 👀

Male reader is hot af like dude be making people stare at him jaw dropped and shi, not only that but he smart as hell too, dude graduated from Harvard in the highest honour, wealthy af and he strong af too AND hes a total sweetheart to Soap but he abit cold to strangers.

So basically male reader was somehow able to convince Price to let him visit the base and everybody staring at him like "zamnn👀👀" but then male reader sees Soap and his cold and stoic expression completely melts and he just runs up to Soap and hugs tf out him and gives Soap some of the food he cooked for him and is just being cheesy af to Soap and then a strangers aprouches Male reader and tries to ask him something and Male reader goes "what😐" and then immediatly goes back to baby-ing Soap.

PLEASE I WOULD CRY TEARS OF JOY IF YOU DO THIS🙇🙇🙇

Soap Headcanons: Ft absolute whipped Male!S/O

Somehow someway you’ve managed to secretly sneak your way into Price's spot of number one favorite. Being able to easily convince him to visit base and get a chance to see everyone again*cough*SOAP*cough*. He obviously knows why you want to go, practically everyone does but he doesn’t have it in his old man heart to say no so you always get your way. You always use the excuse of helping out like doing paperwork, or maybe training new recruits but you never do any of that!! Everyone respects you because of all your achievements…that's why it feels so wrong to tell you off when you’re caught babying Soap, not because you should be getting to work, but because they wish it was them.

It’s always awkward when you first show up on base because who wouldn’t want to talk to such eye candy, but at most you’ll give them the cold shoulder, or just tell them what they need before turning away from the conversation. Even when you’re sitting anywhere, you’ll impatiently tap your foot, as if you’re waiting for something/someone…AND THAT’S BECAUSE YOU ARRE, the entire time you’ll wait for him but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna be happy about it. It’s an absolute 180 because now you’re being all bashful and presenting him with homemade food and treats, holding him against you as you complain about how lonely it is without his loud personality. Soap is probably a physical affection type of lover, so he’ll have you in a headlock while singing praises on how much he missed you as well. 

When he's back and the two of you are together, he insist on training. Of course this gains the attention of others, and you feel the need to shoo them away, insisting that they must be here to oogle your man... "Laddie, Yer heid’s full o’ mince if you think they're checking me out??" and then you get offended because why WOULDN'T they want to check out your totally amazing boyfriend.

He’s completely oblivious to your favoritism as well, he acknowledges that you might like him more than most people because you’re together, but not to the extent that other people say. Even if he does witness this attitude change, he thinks it's the funniest thing in the world and will pretend to not notice when people complain about your favoritism. Price will complain about your attitude towards others, telling Soap to knock some sense into you and all he’ll say is “ I dinnae ken what you mean captain??”