#You'll see this over and over again if you make a study of marginalized people in history: people use the strictures of caste like weapons

[grison-in-space]

The obvious question—why do women organize against their own freedom—is thorny.4 In her 1983 book Right-Wing Women, radical feminist author Andrea Dworkin tried to answer it. She described three types of antifeminism. “Man dominant” was the crudest form, resting on the principle that men should subjugate women because male dominance is natural, necessary, and rooted in love. “Woman superior” held that female power resided in women’s lofty moral sensibility and sexual desirability—not to be confused with their sexual desire. Women’s authority was innate yet limited, physical yet passive. (“She’s ethereal,” Dworkin wrote, “she floats.”) The last type, “separate but equal,” emphasized that the sexes were destined for different spheres of existence, neither of which was better than the other. Women bearing and nurturing children was just as important as men providing for them financially or fighting wars to protect them. Dworkin theorized that some women embraced antifeminism, in one form or a combination, as a means of self-preservation in the face of male oppression. “Feminists, from a base of powerlessness, want to destroy that power,” she said. “Right-wing women, from a base of powerlessness, the same base, accommodate to that power because quite simply they see no way out from under.” Dworkin also argued that any disdain antifeminist women felt toward an “other” on the basis of race or another identity marker was really displaced rage they felt toward men. “They are easily controlled and manipulated haters,” she said of these women. “Having good reason to hate, but not the courage to rebel, women require symbols of danger that justify their fear.”5 Dworkin’s interpretation was compelling, but it contained two monolithic assumptions: that the patriarchy is an absolute negative for all women, and that women act largely on the basis of their womanhood. In fact, the overlapping lines of race, class, and culture complicate both ideas. What about women who benefit—or want to benefit—from existing structures of dominance? We risk stripping them of responsibility when we suggest that the harm they do is merely a way of coping with their own oppression, whether real or presumed. As Adrienne Rich wrote in Of Woman Born, “Theories of female power and female ascendancy must reckon fully with the ambiguities of our being, with the continuum of our consciousness, the potentialities for both creative and destructive energy in each of us.”6

[vergess]

There's also the simple fact that fat people tend to be unhealthier not because we are fat, but because we cannot engage in healthy behaviour without harassment and assault.

Eating a nutritionally complete meal sized to prevent metabolic collapse is "gorging." Eating a nutritionally complete meal with way too few calories will make you malnourished, tired, and likely fatter. But at least people will only mock you for "faking" a healthy diet and not for "refusing" one.

Exercise is to be done at home, where no one else has to see it. But a home gym, even just for weights, is expensive ant fat people are poor because people refuse to hire or promote us. Meanwhile, "free" bodyweight exercises are often comically harder for us, since we have HEAVIER FUCKING BODIES, which is just begging for joint damage if you workout untrained. A burpee may not sprain the wrist or ankle of a 150lb person, but that's really different at 300lbs.

But the most exhausting part is trying to explain to everyone, doctors and nurses, people on the fucking street who think our bodies are worthy of harassment, people staring at the gym so they can post snide comments later... They all believe serious weightloss is possible at all.

But. It's. Not.

It's not possible.

Loss of over 10% of your total body weight is simply! Fucking! Impossible! It has been studied to death and the success rate is so low across thousands and thousands of studies that it's more effective to use a raw number than a fucking percentage, because you'd need so many fucking 0s after the decimal.

The human body isn't designed to ALLOW weight loss. When you put on weight, it tends to stay on permanently because this is beneficial to your long term survival in harsh conditions.

Sit on that for a second. Consider the implications of that.

Harsh conditions make people fat.

Like, say, the harsh conditions of your every morsel of food and movement of body being scrutinized, with the constant refrain that you need to cease existing. No one ever says "die," but since "lose weight" is a LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE GOAL, what they mean is, "stay out of my sight until you're dead."

It is very fair to say that the reason fat people are an "epidemic" is the violence we face on a day to day social level makes becoming fat easier than ever before.

In fact, you'll find that marginalized people of every sort tend to be fatter than their centralized counterparts. People of color vs whites. The disabled vr abled. Queers vs COGAPs*. Again and again we see that marginalization makes people fat, and fatness intersects with their existing marginalizations to make the treatment they receive worse.

*Centered Orientations (straight allo), Genders (cis binary), And Perisex.

the answer is that they don’t want fat people to exist, period. not in restaurants, not in the gym, not on the bus next to them. nowhere. they want you to be born skinny, or cease to exist. it’s never been about health or exercise. they don’t care about fat people point blank.

[dreamiesdotcom]

rule #6 | l.dh

Summary: With Donghyuck, growing to love feels like a black hole, but not the depressing kind. Rather, it's something hard to get away from — like a force, a very strong force that allows no escape, and it's incredibly luminous as if going supernova.

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: hi, this is moon from somewhere august, scheduling this post before i chicken out again :D by the time it's posted, it's already Christmas so,,, merry christmas y'all who celebrate!!!! Lots of love!!!

Just like most things involving Donghyuck, falling in love with him isn't such a good idea.

That was way too sped up, though. The best way to start this story, of course, is from the very beginning— the day human migraine number one (a.k.a Jaemin) decided to bring in evil genius Huang Renjun to the circle. That would've been fine. It just so happened that beside him sat the devil incarnate, Lee Donghyuck, and that, well, is totally all four directions far away from what's acceptable.

Rule number one to surviving this life thing: Never trust cute boys with sunshine smiles and mischief in their eyes, a.k.a Donghyuck, or Haechan, whatever name he decided to go by. That's why when he reaches his hands out over the table to your direction, you quickly dismiss his attempt — "Hi! I haven't met you yet, did you skip first period? You're Y/N, ri—"

"Please never speak to me." was your reply then, and human migraine number two (a.k.a Chenle) laughs. Jaemin nags for the rest of the break, talking about manners and getting along. The fools nod alongside him. You grumble, moody for no reason and feeling particularly mean, but you warmly smile at Mark when he arrives at your table. Somewhere along the lines, you met stares with the new boy, and you give him an indifferent look.

Donghyuck took the nonchalance as a challenge.

###

The following weeks have been infuriating.

Rule #2: At all times, seek Lee Jeno's company. Unreliable as he seems when it comes to patience, the boy is quite reasonable sometimes.

Your windows align with the sweet-faced boy, your roofs almost touching — if you tried hard enough, you two could sit together, side by side, just like this. Cold wind blows, but it doesn't make you shiver. Jeno's warm, and maybe that's why you love cuddling with him so much. Maybe.

Just maybe, that could be the reason.

"I can't hear what you're saying," he slowly says, laughter seeping through his lips. You whine at that, moving away so he could see you and you could speak clearly. His hand remains holding your chin up, endearing in a soft way, but it doesn't wash away your frown. "What were you saying?"

You groan, "I said, he's so annoying! The audacity, Lee Jeno, he had the audacity to call me ba—"

Jeno watches you with tender eyes. Your heart softens, and you forget whatever next words you had to say. Maybe things will be okay? He's here, after all. Just right next door.

At least, something is going right.

###

This new boy, it seems, is appealing to many. During his first week, people have constantly trying to 'show him around', and that excuse doesn't die down until one month. From then on, people just keep following him around with "Good morning, Haechan!", "Goodbye, Haechan!" and "How was the weekends for you, Haechan-ssi?"

To be honest, it's something you had to grow used to even way before the showed up. Having Na Jaemin and Mark Lee from the Basketball team in your circle just really has a way of putting the spotlight on your lunch table. Not to mention, Renjun, Jeno, and Jisung, who despite being quiet, just has a certain charm to them — Jaemin's words, not yours. And oh, don't even get started on Chenle. That boy is a social butterfly.

The difference is that he keeps entertaining them, unlike the others who awkwardly laughs or just greets back — safe to say that sometimes, the 'goodness' of his heart gets in the way of your education and daily life. Times just like this.

Jisung's name shines brightly at the top of the list. You cling to the boy excitedly, pinching his cheeks and slightly bouncing on your heels, "You made it on the dance team, Sungie! Oh my God, oh my Go—"

"Y/N..." he drawls out, both hands resting on your shoulder as if to calm you down, but the excitement in his eyes betrays his intentions. On the other side, Renjun waves at you with the others. It makes you chuckle, and you motion for them come — that is, of course, until someone pushes you, almost sending you to the ground if not for Jisung catching you midfall.

The girl furrows her brows, "Move, you're blocking the way."

Your palms itch at that moment, and you couldn't believe just what you heard — the nerve!

"Where's your manners?" rings Donghyuck's voice from where he's slowly making way towards you with the others, a grimace on each of their faces. Attitude seeps from his gaze, the kind that would've made someone quiver. "Don't go around pushing people."

"Wh—"

"Stop." you clench your hands to fists, thanking Jisung before straightening up. Through gritted teeth, you calmly look at the girl with a scowl on her face. "Look, I'm sorry, but can you politely ask me to move next time? That's be appreciated, thank you."

After bidding the others a small smile, you turn around to make your way to the library. What? For peace? For space? Just to be as far away from the boy following you right now as possible? You don't even know at this point. You feel like your celebration is ruined and all you want is distance from the person you dislike the most — to be honest, you don't know anything about him aside from the fact that he's Lee Donghyuck and that he's annoying, and that you automatically hate him. You don't plan on knowing more. That's why before entering the library, you turn around to face him with a solemn look.

"Thank you." he halts in shock. His smile widens, but you look at him with the same seriousness in your face. "But don't do it again. I don't need saving, Lee Donghyuck."

Later that night, you grit your teeth as you write down another rule: Say your gratitude but don't get used to the way he saves you. You're not a damsel. Just hand the goddamn sword or you'll be fine with your fists — maybe your eyes for daggers, too.

####

Rule #3: Never go to him for comfort.

22nd of April, 10:35 p.m. You close your eyes and wait. The clock hits eleven and you open the door for the others, greeting everyone with a cheerful smile. "Where's Jaemin?"

Mark shrugs, "Said he has an essay. He'll be late for a bit, but he'll make it before 12."

23rd of April, 12:00 a.m, your heartbeat races. Everything's all set, everyone's in the living room. You take out your phone with a giggle, typing out 'Happy Birthday, dummy!!!' with the biggest grin on your face. Jisung judges you slightly, but he quickly forgets it when a taunting yell from Renjun comes. You sit in the kitchen, staring at the delicately decorated cake, and you wait.

One hour turns to two, then three. Your smile fades slightly, and you check your phone for replies. When nothing comes, you click over his contact shakily.

To: Star <3

Happy Birthday, dummy!!!

Hey, Jen? You're one door away from me and yet you're an hour late.

Birthday boy, you're not ditching us on your own celebration, aren't ya?

When are you coming over ;-;

From: Star <3

I'm sorry!!!

Sorry but I'll be late!

Jaeminnie really needs my help with something.

We'll be there! I'm sorry, Y/N

Your smile disappears. Sullenly making your way to the living room, you count your steps to keep your ground. You look at the others in front of you with a smile, "Go start the movie, I'll wait for Jeno and Jaemin outside. Deal?"

"Sure." Chenle chirps, his grin never fading. Must be because of cheating his way through besting Jisung, Donghyuck, Mark, and Renjun at Monopoly for the past three hours, probably ruining their friendship. Oblivious to the world, Renjun grumbles something about Jeno never being punctual, that he'd pray that trait onto him as a birthday gift. You glance at them before heading back outside, sitting down outside your door, head in between your knees.

A tear. Maybe two. Is this how heartbreak feels like? The kind of crying where you can't even make a sound because people could hear, but then even your teardrops seem to be so loud.

The door opens and you put your head up, hurriedly wiping them away. You put on your best smile until Donghyuck occupies the space beside you. He hands you a handkerchief.

"Don't," he whispers when you obviously hold down a sob, and he leans you on his chest. You cry freely there — you don't know why you let him of all people, but all you know was that you couldn't think straight; desperation blooms on your chest like fresh flowers die over time, and he doesn't judge. He just holds you — no cheesy pet name, no flirty looks, no catch. Just someone to be with.

At 4 a.m with Lee Donghyuck, the starless sky and the moon all alone looks a little less lonely. In front of you, the sun begins to rise.

##

Rule #4: Aaaaand if you don't follow the preceding rule, then, you're fucked. This is your mess. Good luck, you're alone on this one.

After Jeno's birthday (and after he made up to you, he spent a month doing that.) something just begins to change. A pleasant shift, according to Mark.

From that day, something in you says that maybe, just maybe, he's not so bad and you were just unfair to him. This realization must be something brought by time; slowly, you got used to Renjun and Hyuck being a part of your circle. These tutoring sessions must be a factor as well, judging how to two get to spend time alone in the same table as you can't possibly study with the others around you.

Donghyuck would do anything to evade mathematics, though. At least that's what it looks like right now, as he doodles around the margins instead of solving the problems, and then opens a topic, "Nana and Jisung looks cute together. Should've known they wouldn't be serious with each other, him and Jeno."

You roll your eyes, but not the way you did back then. It's way softer, much more affectionate. "It's been a year, let them be."

"So what? It's only been a year." he seems really determined to waste time. He even makes a show of briefly making eye contact before pouting at the paper, "You and Jeno still pretend to be just friends, but the whole school's just waiting for you two to kiss."

You chuckle, "We don't."

"You do."

"Used to." you correct. You look over to the other table, Jaemin and Jeno throwing a banter while Jisung begs them to stop before Renjun smacks them all with a book. You gaze down the notes you're studying before shrugging, "Things change."

"Example?" he tentatively asks, absentmindedly tracing the letters and numbers scattered around his notebook. You rest your chin on your palm.

"Well, now, I might like you." because honestly, you do. He's a great company, although sometimes overwhelming and annoying. Especially that most of the time when he's with Jaemin, they brew the worst ideas together and it's pretty much storm from there.

It would be a lie to say that it's not one of the things that makes you feel warm, slowly growing fond. Your voice softens as he tilts up to meet your gaze, and you flash him a saccharine smile. "Soon, it might not be because you're my friend."

Things like this make you feel like you've missed everything with Jeno, all the things you both could've had; it's like you should've been like this. It's like you should've been holding hands, or walking down the streets, or sitting on a rooftop and asking for a kiss. The kind that would send a rush of energy on your veins, shaking you back to life, losing you to the dream that is the way his lips move against you. But best friends don't do that, so you don't.

Hyuck is not Jeno, though. He's not your best friend.

With Donghyuck, growing to love feels like a black hole, but not the depressing kind. Rather, it's something hard to get away from — like a force, a very strong force that allows no escape, and it's incredibly luminous as if going supernova.

###

Rule #5: Well, seems like you can't back out now. Love him. Love him so much that the sunshine in his eyes never fades.

"Why are we celebrating Mark's last day in town?" Donghyuck sits down in the living room, looking around at the place — balloons, snacks, a cake, everyone in your friend group. He sets down his gift, "Are we that glad that he's leaving?"

Mark huffs, "You'd fucking cry once you miss me and I'm cities away, Lee Donghyuck."

"I won't miss you because I'm coming over to your dorm every day and I'm dragging everyone with me." Donghyuck smiles and even when Mark shoves him a little at that, everyone knows that he's happy the younger said that. He flashes his sly smile, "You, however... ah, what do we do? Mark might miss me so much he fails three subjects."

Everyone cackles at that, and Mark only raises his arms at surrender, saying something about not joking like that because he's honestly 'terrified to start hell', wanting to just stay here and finish school with all of you, ranting about how troublesome it is to transfer. You lean back on your loveseat, lightly kicking Hyuck's feet. "What?"

"You talk like this but you'd sulk tomorrow, wouldn't you?" You taunt, snickering. "This is false advertising."

Donghyuck gapes as the others fall over laughing. "Oi, are you trying to help me fill out all the ten reasons I hate you?"

"You have only ten for me?" you add, and for some reason, that makes the others laugh harder. "I have a hundred for you, Hyuckie."

"I could write you thousands—"

Jeno scrunches his face, hands moving to cover Donghyuck's mouth. "Just please go kiss each other."

Donghyuck tears away from his hold, rolls his eyes, and waves goodbye. He tugs you away from Jaemin and then leads you upstairs, but not before one last banter with Jeno, who, in his all confused expression, tilts his head in question, "Ya, where are you going?"

"I'm not kissing Y/N in front of you fools."

And true to his word, that's what he does.

Donghyuck smiles like the world is kind, like unending unconditional love, without boundaries nor fears. He kisses like that, too, passionate and deep. He does it like it's the end of the world, as if it's the only thing he wants to do. He does it like he's thanking every single thing that led him up to this moment. He kissed you under those stars in his balcony, a hand warm on your waist with the other softly caressing your jaw, and it seemed like it lasted forever.

Because that's the truth. The last time never feels like the last time. There had to be more to this than what the skies have laid down.

Inside your dreamy little mind, Donghyuck was eternal and the love you shared was forever. That's what happened. You thought you had forever.

You thought you had forever, but you didn't.

###

Rule #6: But that won't make him stay if he's bound to leave. Accept that and love him, still. Love him through the rain.

"Lee Jeno tripped!" yells Chenle's loud voice, gaining the attention of everybody in the room, "And fell in love with Y/N, totally whipped that they can't even shop separately!"

"Hell, Chenle, where's your mute button?" Renjun hissed, "We gotta buy presents too. Who decided to do this so late, though? It's the 24th! You guys should've done it weeks ago!"

"Let's go?" Jeno asks, blatantly ignoring Renjun as he waits for you to take his hands. You smirk, waving the folded paper to the others after entwining fingers with him.

"Bye, losers! See y'all later~" you wink. Before being dragged out the Cafe, you point at your friends' direction "Whoever had my name better give me a decent gift, or Christmas is cancelled!"

"Baby, stop that," he asks, squeezing your hands to make you calm down. Your laugh even louder. He smiles, "Who did you get?"

"Hey, Lee, you don't get special treatment just because I'm dating you. It's a secret." you roll your eyes, a skip in your step even though the weather is cold. Jeno steals a peck on your cheeks, and your eyes widen. "Lee Jeno!"

Before you could even catch him, he's already running away from you, and you're almost falling over laughing as you try to catch up to him. He meets you at the end, in front of a busy mall, and catches you with a hug. You laugh on his chest, warm against his hold.

If memories come washing over you, no one has to know. Jeno looks lovely against white. He feels like art on a Christmas day, so beautiful and warm and special. That's all that matters.

"We agreed that we wouldn't try..." Donghyuck whispers, arms around you, "if things will get too harsh on the other, didn't we?"

"Yeah... if I was to leave, Hyuck, I don't want you waiting on me." you responded, half-asleep and sincere, "But I'm only saying it because I'm not leaving."

Donghyuck laughed, "Well, just making sure that if that happens, we'll meet again, yeah?"

"Hyuck, shut up. Nobody's leaving." you groaned, stirring at the joyful yelling downstairs. "Looks like it's 12 already. Merry Christmas, baby."

"Mhm, Merry Christmas. I love you." He smiles, leaves a slow, gentle kiss on your lips. "I love you. I'll love you even more this year."

Does moving away without a word count as loving someone more than you did the past year?

"You're spacing out." Jeno smiles, "Am I that handsome?"

"You always are. Stunning." you quickly reply, a little guilty. You enter the busy room and part ways so that you could shop for your gifts, but not before deciding on a meeting point and leaving a sweet, loving kiss. "Come back, yeah?"

"Of course." he nods before parting ways. Your heart remains at peace — as planned, at the end of the day, Jeno would come back to you at the entrance. He won't leave like the other did. He won't do that to you...

Two hours before Christmas, you sit down on your own for a bit, occasionally distracted by the noise. At their loudness, you can make out Mark trying to calm everybody down, Jaemin threatening murder to keep Jisung and Mark away from the kitchen, Jeno convincing Chenle to get a dog. As you write down their yearly letters, you can't get rid of the smile on your face.

Why they decided to spend this holiday at yours, you don't really understand. Can't say you're against it, though. It's perfect; the tree all of you built together, the presents, the games you'll spend the night playing. The friendship.

Only that someone's missing. As if to lessen the pain, you write his name down on the paper — except it's not a new one, but rather, the page you've been foolishly writing your rules on; the rules that never stood a chance to save you. You trace your hands over the words, but you quickly shake nostalgia away as you turn the page over.

Hello, Donghyuck-ah!

You know the drill. For some time, you received some of my letters, didn't you? After all, we spent some years together... as enemies, as friends, as lovers. You probably memorized how it goes: I'll dwell on the year, I'll tell you how I chose your gift, I'll try to say how much I adore you, and then I'll thank you for being here.

Unfortunately this time, I can't tell you how our year went... I didn't spend it with you. I wasn't able to get you a gift, too, because I don't know if your preferences changed. And I can't thank you for being here. I can't because you're not.

Though I could still tell you that I love you, now it's kind of different. It's less of something that desperately needs you, and more of the kind that longs for you. Jeno and I got together at last. It's complicated how we happened, but we gave it a try and... just. That. You won't read this, but I still want you to know... even if this will never reach you.

Remember that we said that we'll meet again? Well, where are you? Are you happy? How's life been, miles away from home, from your friends, Hyuck-ah?

Merry Christmas. I hope you're happy.

I hope you are, of course, I do. I want you to be happy, I do. I can't wish for anything more — I want you to be happy... just that I hope you're sad sometimes, too, just like me... because of me. I want your heart to break sometimes too. I want you to cry sometimes too. In those empty spaces, I want you to remember me.

And I know you won't do any of that, but in my twisted imagination, you do. And you are.

You're the happiest you could be, but not that much — not happy enough that you'd forget me.

[amostimprobabledream]

And He Walks With Flames (Dabi x Reader) - Part One

They say humans, in a strange, ironic twist of fate, owe their magic to demons. A thousand years ago, they walked the earth, wreaking destruction and chaos wherever they tread. Humans were no more than meat for the slaughter, or glorified playthings for their amusement. The first generation of humans to fight back against their monstrous oppressors did so by a peculiar, ancient magic. A power that could repel demons and bring hope to all humanity. A terrible war raged for the fate of the world and the humans managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. The demons were banished to their land of origin, sealed away in defeat. But seals don't last forever. While historians argue on how literal these legends may be, there is no denying that ancient creature have begun to stir, appearing in our world again with growing frequency. And soon there might- The last paragraph was torn away. "Oh, for god's sake," you tsk. Sunlight pours through the large, high window of your lecture room, dust motes dancing in the golden rays. Though you were engrossed in your book, once you look up, the spell is broken, and the clear sky outside once again has your eyes wandering to it. It seems that you are not the only one getting distracted, either - even the professor keeps tapering off at the promise of an afternoon outside in the gorgeous spring weather. "Well," the professor says, shuffling the papers in front of her. "That's all for today. Please revise over the material and we'll discuss it in further detail next time. You are all free to go." You're only too happy to comply, putting your things away and scrambling to your feet. Everyone else is hurrying to get outside, pouring down the stairs to the doors, chattering to one another as they go. Normally you love going to lectures, but it's just too nice outside to be cooped up indoors. You push open the doors and step outside, a muted sigh of pleasure leaving your mouth. Your university, the Royal Academy of Magic, has the reputation for being tough, but so far, you've been enjoying the work. Learning about the different faces of magic, its uses, and the history of it, it's all so very fascinating to you. You've been able to use magic since you were young, but it's studying it here that will really help you unlock your true potential, and hopefully give you a concrete idea of what to aim for with your career. So far there are so many options a magic-user might do that it's been a little overwhelming trying to decide. As you cross the lawns, grass crunching beneath your feet, you decide to swing by your dorm first to drop off your books - they may contain a lot of knowledge, but damn if they're not heavy - your mother pointed out that you've developed something of a slouch since you started studying here. "I'm back!" you call as you push open the door of your dormitory. "Huh?" Kendou looks up from her bed, where she has a couple of books sprawled out next to her head, notes scribbled in the margins of her notebook as she looks over her textbook. Her red hair spills down her shoulder, coming loose from its signature ponytail. "You're back early!" "Yeah, they let us out sooner than I expected," you reply with a shrug and a small laugh, dropping your bag on your own bed and stretching, wincing as a kink in your shoulder pops. "Oh, well, that's good timing, someone came by earlier with a message for you," Kendou says, pushing herself up into a sitting position, apparently deciding your arrival is a good a reason as any to take a break from studying. "Your mother wants you to go down to the Imperial Research Centre to get your father." "Did she come by here?" you ask in surprise. Normally your mother arranges to meet you after lectures or seminars if she wants to see you during the week, and she's a rather busy woman besides. "No, she left a message at the front desk and someone passed it along," Kendou shrugs. "But she also said you guys are doing something tonight, right?" "Oh, yes, I'd forgotten all about that!" you say, feeling silly that it could

possibly have slipped your mind - you love it when you get to go out for a meal with your parents and often it means one of them has some exciting news to share. "Thanks, Kendou, I'll head over there now." She grins and gives a little wave. “No problem!” You suppose it's fortunate that the Imperial Research Centre is only a short walk from the campus and that you're very familiar with the place, since your father's been working there for so long. Anyway, it's a pleasant walk, the way there is lined with rows of trees that are only a week or two away from growing from dark to light pink and shedding their blossoms. When the street is in full bloom, it's like there's been a wedding. You even find yourself humming as you walk, breathing in the subtle smell of flowers on the breeze, wondering to yourself if the blossom trees were planted before or after the buildings were founded, but either way, whoever was responsible for them made a good call. The Imperial Research Centre is a peculiar building, made of blue stone and with a roof that boasts four conical points, one in each corner, making it resemble a castle from bygone days just plopped in the middle of the city. There's an aura of mystery to it, too, hinting at the all-important, life-changing work that’s always going on inside. If ever cutting-edge technology is released to the public, odds were that the Centre had a hand in making it. The building is cooler on the inside than it is outdoors, powered by a system designed to spread cool or warm air throughout the entire building, depending on the system. You approach the front desk, wishing that you'd thought to bring a jacket, because it’s always cold in here during the warm seasons, and the receptionist glances up on you with a slightly dismissive expression on her face. It's probably because she thinks you're an overeager student or some hapless intern, it's very rare a researcher your age would be able to work here. "May I help you?" the receptionist asks in a cool, professional tone. "Yes, I'm here to see my father," you reply. "He's one of the vice executives here." You give his surname, and the woman pauses. Is that a trace of nervousness you can see? "He's downstairs in Containment Room 1A," she says, checking a sheet of paper on the desk, which is littered with various papers, random pieces of stationary and one of those magitech intercom systems that they use. They have something similar at the Academy too, though of course, the Centre get the most high-tech version of everything. "All right, thanks," you say, turning to head for the elevator. "Wait!" the woman cries out and you glance back, confused. "I'm sorry, but you can't just walk through here, especially to the lower levels! You don't have the clearance and it can be dangerous." You scoff in disbelief. You have visited your father here before, many times, and this has never been a problem for you before. You always just tell them who you are and then get a visitor's pass. You even know some of the codes to the doors, thanks to waiting around for your father to finish work so often. "Well, please can you have someone go fetch him for me?" you ask, going to reluctantly perching on one of the chairs in the waiting area. "Can't it wait?" the receptionist asks impatiently, and maybe it can, but her attitude is starting to piss you off, so you shoot her a frosty smile you've perfected after watching your mother pull a similar face at people who don't meet her standards. "No, it can't." The woman sighs but she dutifully presses a button on the intercom system and speaks quietly into it for a moment or two, while you idly pick at a loose thread on the chair you're sitting on. She then glances back at you, eyebrows raised. "A messenger has been sent down to speak to him. Hopefully he should be upstairs shortly." "Thank you so much." you reply sweetly, the last words with heavy emphasis. After that, the two of you sit in a mutually frosty silence, with the woman sorting through paperwork on her desk and occasionally

directing people who approach her desk to the correct floor (which seems redundant to you - why can't people just read the clearly printed sign on the wall next to her desk ?), while you flick through some glossy magazines without actually taking in a single word. But you're not leaving until you've spoken to your father. Minutes tick by and you start drumming your heel lightly on the floor, leg jiggling with impatience. You wonder if the woman just lied about sending a messenger down to the Containment Room in an effort to pacify you, in the hopes you'll just get bored and leave. You grit your jaw at the thought, ignoring how cold you're getting, sitting here doing nothing. After maybe ten minutes, a man in a lab coat approaches the front desk, leaning over to speak to the woman. "Kino, could you come with me a moment? Hannah can start her shift." "Oh, I'll be right there!" Kino says, flustered, getting out from behind the desk and following the man as he walks briskly down the corridor, without a backwards glance at you. No doubt her replacement will be along any moment - perhaps she's running late? But you don't plan on sticking around. As soon as the receptionist rounds the corner, out of sight, you spring up and walk briskly across the room to the elevators, stabbing the button and stepping through the doors. You don't bother to fight the smile that spreads across your face as the doors slide shut. ~ "Father?" There's always something slightly creepy about the lower floors. The orbs lining the walls that are designed to keep the machinery running in case of a power shortage cast an eerie glow in the corridors, washing everything with a pale blue light that makes it seem far colder than it actually is. It reminds you a bit of walking through a tunnel of ice. Your boots click on the stone floor as you follow the lights to Containment Room A1. Finally, you reach the double doors leading inside, flanked by two windows each side. You can see your father inside, his back to you, so you rap on the windows. Nothing. You try again with more force, hurting your knuckles, but he still doesn't turn around. Perhaps it's soundproofed, so whatever's out here can't disturb whatever's going on in there? You glance at the keypad next to the doors, but you've never been to this particular room before so the code for the doors on the upper level is unlikely to be the same one for down here. Then you see movement, shadows beneath the crack between door and floor, and the doors slide open with a mechanical swish and two scientists in lab coats come out, comparing notes and murmuring together excitedly. You slip inside before they can slam shut again, unwilling to stand outside in the chilly corridor for any longer than necessary. "Father!" you call out as you enter. But then you stop dead in your tracks. Ahead of you, trapped behind some kind of containment field...is a monster. "What-?!" you hear your father say in surprise at his daughter suddenly marching through the doors. "What are you doing in here?!" But you don't answer. You can't look away from what's in front of you, even if you wanted to. You know without being told that this is a demon, but it's certainly not what they looked like in any of your history books. A tall, humanoid being that is undoubtedly male and you can tell from where you’re standing that he’s tall. The demon's huge, black wings arch out from behind him, reminding you of a bat. Two horns jut out from a crown of spiky black hair, but aside from that, you're surprised by how… human he looks. Your cheeks warm up as you notice he is shirtless, peculiar burn marks covering over half of his body and seemingly crudely stitched together like a patchwork doll. Despite that, he's impressively sculpted, sinewy muscles on full display and you know that demons were said to be uncommonly strong. Your eyes drift further down, and you spot a whiplike tail wrapped around one leg, topped with a pointed barb at the end, like a club in a game of cards. His arms are in restraints and so are his

ankles, yet he doesn't seem stressed in any way, leaning against the back wall of his holding cell as though he's waiting for something. "What...is this?" you breathe out, finally turning to your father. "This is our latest research subject," your father replies beside you, also staring at the demon, though his expression is surprisingly somber, considering just how amazing it is that they have been able to capture and contain a demon. You've never seen a live demon before, and something tells you that the one before you certainly isn't any garden variety one. "Director Fuji is very excited about this. It's not every day you see a demon this high ranking." Slowly, the demon stirs, raising his head a little. You're perfectly safe outside the containment field, as well was the multiple other safety measures both inside the cell and out of it, yet the sensation of being watched makes your flesh break out in goosebumps. From beneath spiky fronds of hair, the demon's eyes - so blue they almost don't look real - stare right at you, his gaze alone rooting you to the spot, laying all your defenses bare and leaving you feeling bizarrely naked before that look. Watching you without once blinking or breaking his gaze, his lips part in a sneer to reveal two rows of teeth, the fangs sharp and white as an icicle. You find yourself holding your breath as your father speaks again. "Sweetheart, meet Dabi."

[rentalboos]

In this house we love and appreciate Steven Lim, everything he does for Watcher and ofc the entire Watcher team and love and support them in all their endeavors.

Because man, am I tired. Am I tired of people dwelling on the drama that shouldn't have existed to begin with. These are some of the most genuine people I've seen on YouTube in all my years as a consumer on there.

They care so much about spreading positivity, about giving platforms to marginalized voices, about diversity. You know how many times I, as a trans person, had unconditional, outspoken support from the youtubers I watched? Uh yeah, once. From Watcher.

When they released their pride merch with releases going to trans charities, I fucking sobbed.

You know how many channels you'll find where someone gives voices to struggling restaurants that were heavily discriminated against because of racist rhethoric during the pandemic? Because I haven't seen a lot. But I've seen y'all hound on the guy who made that happen, calling for him to get fired and calling him "racist" and "homophobic" of all things, then turned around and called his content "boring" and "not good enough".

Y'all say you're here for Ryan and Shane, then don't even listen to them when they tell you that they

a) have a vision for Watcher, which is offering a platform for a diverse set of content creators that AREN'T JUST THEM, even if that might not align with what you want out of it, have always had it, even when they founded it

b) wouldn't be here anymore, having this platform you're watching them on, without Steven Fucking Lim, who gave up on his creative endeavours to keep the company alive, just for y'all to shit on him

c) want to create art and content that they're happy with, and have certain standards they want to meet, want to keep their employees employed, want to stop being dependent on shady sponsor deals they don't stand behind (that YOU complained about, actually!)

d) struggle to sustain their channel on YouTube alone and needed to change things up so you could keep enjoying the content you so loudly complained about not being able to see anymore.

And now look. Y'all got personal, you got cruel, you got racist, you got inflammatory, but the truth is, they pioneered something and they didn't do it in a way you wanted them too, and the next ones are in the starting lines, studying your outrage and using the results to gain your trust and money. Where's the Try Guys backlash? I am yet to find it. I guess they put the white guys in the focus, huh? After weeks of "Well, Shane is the innocent victim of Steven Lim's horrible business idea!" I shouldn't be shocked. I'm not. I'm grossed out, though.

Indie companys, artists and content creators trying to survive and make money for their endeavours isn't capitalism, y'all. You're not being exploited. Y'all just bullied a couple of the most genuine and undeserving YouTubers we had into probably never again being comfortable around their fans, over what? Wanting to keep being able to create for them? Keeping their indie company alive? Okay. Okay.

Anyway. That's my five cents. I needed it out. This video is beautiful, Fritz, thank you for giving them the love they deserve - Especially Steven. Because he's a fucking legend in my book.

from a fan, to watcher.

So this edit was supposed to be made for Steven Lim Appreciation Week, but life happened (and I also switched songs on the second to last day of the appreciation week oops). Then the edit divulged from a Steven Lim appreciation edit to an overall-appreciation-towards-Watcher/with-a-heavy-emphasis-on-Steven-Lim edit. I will admit, I’m usually not one to make emotional type edits (I’m here for the crack/cursed shit), but this particular song holds a special place in my heart. Just like how Watcher and the friends I have made in this fandom hold a special place in my heart… so yeah. Have this edit, and I apologize for the feels. Peace✌️

[alyssa-orowane]

Fantasy tropes to avoid (and ideas to reinvent them)

Hello aspiring writers of Tumblr! How is it going?

This is my first post on here and I decided to dedicate it not only to the genre I am writing in, fantasy, but also to a crucial topic, which relates and affects every genre in different ways.

TROPES.

It's lazy to build stories on something that has already been written a million times before. I don't like tropes at all as a reader. If I wanted to read the same stereotyped story all over again I would just stick to the previous book I have read with that same plot, so I would also spare myself the trouble of learning the unpronounceable names of these new stereotyped characters.

On the other hand, as a writer it might be tempting to give in and use tropes. "Why not? After all everybody uses them and I am already SO busy writing the actual chapters of my story."

I tell you what: every time a trope threatens to slide into your story, crush the page and throw it across the room, yelling:

Seriously, though: tropes are just general, undeveloped ideas. That's what you need to do, develop them. In this way only will you ever be able to unleash their hidden potential.

Without further ado, may I present you three of the most common fantasy tropes and hints to reimagine them.

*Keep in mind that this is only my personal view on the subject and you can either agree or disagree with it.

1. The chosen one

This one is the most obvious one and I am also quite sure that you expected to find it on the list. Interesting, Watson: I guess that it makes this article stereotyped too…

Well we all know those characters. Those characters that were meant to be the one. The prophecies had spoken about them long before they were even born. They might as well be the only one capable of using magic or wielding a certain weapon. This character is either the only one who pushes forward the storyline or that one protagonist who does everything except choosing anything actively in the plot. There is no in between. Either way, they only possess notable qualities. Of course there is no trace of flaws. I mean, they are the hero.

Have a side-kick (or co-protagonist) be the chosen one instead

A great idea, if you really want to insert this trope in your story, is to use it to your advantage and surprise the reader with it. Who could ever expect that the protagonist was actually never the chosen one? Or that another character is the chosen one from the start?

To see this trope well recreated I recommend watching the BBC TV series "Merlin" in which a young sorcerer, Merlin himself, must help the future heir to the throne, the prince Arthur Pendragon, to fulfill his destiny and become the greatest king who has ever lived. Arthur has no clue of what has been foretold, nor that he even is at the centre of a prophecy. All of Merlin and Arthur's choices will determine either the glorious success or the tragic failure of the quest; all of this while Merlin hides his powers from Arthur and everyone else as magic is condemned in Camelot.

2. Overused fantasy Races

...which translates mostly into putting Elves, Dwarves, Trolls, dragons and any of the Tolkenian elements and creatures in your own story. Now, don't get me wrong. Tolkien is one of my favourite authors, hence I am always captivated by those fantasy novels that display these Races in their stories. But I don't want to read a copy, I want to read your own masterpiece.

That's exactly why you should:

Redesign the well-known fantasy Races and adapt them to your world and to your theme or just create brand new ones

Personally, I absolutely LOVE to craft new fantasy Races. I believe that it adds depth and realism to the world-building (which does not consist only of geography). Each civilisation brings their culture, their traditions to your story and that's what makes a world truly breathe. In my opinion, the purpose of fantasy is not to focus just on the epic deeds narrated or on endless battles enriched with magic and legends, though those are very important part of this genre and they must be just as equally developed. The reason why I write fantasy is to spread awareness around the vast variety of themes that coexist in our society nowadays, in the first place global warming, the racism that still today people experience, LGBTQ characters which are often unrepresented both in literary fiction and TV. What better genre than fantasy is there to represent diversity and multiculturalism? On these latter points I will never not be thanking and loving the works of Steven Erikson which are part of the high-fantasy series "Malazan Book of the Fallen". Diversity and the brand new variety of intriguing Races are a huge part of what makes Malazan such an awesome fantasy series. I refer to Steven Erikson as the main inspiration of my writing and I recommend you to give a try to his books, if you have the chance. I warn you though, that it is not any light or easy reading.

The other option might be to reinvent the well-known Races. Tolkien himself did not "invent" the Elves of Middle Earth, rather he made a legend of his own after having studied the myths and ballads of ancient civilities. Then he developed their language, their history and their culture as if they were a real existing population. Every single aspect of Tolkien's worldbuilding can be read in his Silmarillion. I think it is a must-read for anyone who is looking forward to reinvent the traditional fantasy Races or just to know more about them.

3. Unfailing magic systems

Magic can be anything you want. That doesn't mean, however, that it should be your escape point: stuff in your story should happen because of your characters, not only because of magic as it is simpler to put it that way. A magic system should be rational and engaging. The reader needs to be able to understand exactly how, when and why does magic work in your world. No, the answer should not be "because it's fantasy."

Set rules, limits and costs to the magic in your world

How do character gain magic abilities? Is magic accessible to everyone or is it elitist? Is it taught in specialised schools or is it something that resonates from within? Are wizards free to practice magic or is it banned? Or maybe are there only specific areas of magic that are prohibited? What is its source? Does magic come from higher beings or are spells more powerful the stronger the mage's will? Does magic need a catalyst (such as a talisman, a weapon etc.) to be casted? If not, do wizard recite spells? Do they need to trace specific symbols? Otherwise is it necessary to make specific hand gestures in order to release their powers? Does it exist only one system for all mages to use or are there multiple kinds? Last but not least, what are magic users in your world called? It's all up to you to decide. Ask questions and let each question lead you to another one. You need to know exactly how your magic system works and so does the reader.

What I love about crafting magic systems is the freedom to establish the boundaries and the natural laws that apply to your world, as magic is a huge part of the story if you're writing fantasy. Well, this could also lead to another question: is your world actually ruled by magic forces or do magic abilities have just a marginal role in the world building?

Remember that magic should not be used as an excuse to fill eventual plot holes in your story. Your magic system should function correctly and it should always stay true to itself. In other words, it must be believable.

And I can hear you thinking "but it‘s magic!"

Then guess what? You need to make the readers believe that magic is real!

First of all, set the rules, the limits and the costs that apply to your system. Having done that, you'll have finished most of the work that concerns the use of magic in your world. Most, not all. If you are a bit of a perfectionist like I am, consider the importance of developing your system furthermore by asking yourself questions, such as the one I have written above.

Rules: decide what makes your system work and what magic can be casted for.

Limits: decide what kind of tasks your magic system cannot perform.

Costs: decide from what kind of source is magic obtained from and, literally, what does it cost to mages to obtain their magic from this source (as Rumpelstiltskin of OUAT wisely says: "all magic comes with a price.")

The most excellent and well-rounded magic systems I have ever come across are the ones created by Brandon Sanderson in this "Mistborn" trilogy: allomancy, feruchemy and hemalurgy. All three magic system permit the magicians to use a wide range of abilities based on the metals they can "burn". Magic originates in the Shards and from Preservation and Ruin, two god-like beings. If you're already interested, I definitely recommend you to check Sanderson's novels out: they are a useful resource of inspiration.

I hope this post has somehow given you the inspiration to go and write right now. 
If you have questions about some of the points or requests for the next articles, don't be shy and send me a message! I will try to cover your topic as soon as possible and as best as I can (and I will also tag your profile, if you agree). 
Thank you all for your attention. Bisous^^

[digitaldandelions]

Why you can't talk about the Gentry on Facebook.

"Why should I care?"

You are concerned about Gentrification and its effects on marginalized peoples.

You want a strategy on gaming gentrification to benefit your neighbors.

Let's get started.

Facebook helps me keep track of my Digital Village

I have a lot of friends on Facebook from different walks of life. Mainly composed of--

Family, friends-of-family, and former classmates who have been working for the community for years to decades (keep pressing forward, fam!)

Friends I made while studying at North Carolina A&T State University (AGGIE PRIDE!!)

Friends I've made while abroad at Korea University (SHOUTS OUT TO Y'ALL!)

Community members I've found while working in every borough in NYC (MARLS, BlaQue, and various kinhood spirits!)

All of my people are really active in the community in some way, shape, or form. My Digital Village has various insights that make my Facebook timeline an engaging and enlightening place. I am very thankful for this and appreciative of the people who make up my village.

However, many in my village have been banned or barred because Facebook is not a free place to communicate. As many Facebook users will confirm, this platform bans any mention of White people, especially White men.

Go ahead! Try it for yourself. Facebook will take down your post because it violates Facebook's Community Terms of Service (ToS). It doesn't matter who you are. --To quote one of my favorite people, "I am White people!"

Facebook is a Private Company: They can do whatever they Want.

Investigating the legalese Facebook uses to protect White People's right to never be mentioned on Facebook would be fascinating. However, it's irrelevant. Facebook is a private company, and they can do whatever they want. More importantly, trying to challenge Facebook could potentially give them more power than we intend. We don't need Facebook to establish itself any more than it is now.

Therefore, our collective solution to this problem is to use coded language to foul up Facebook's "Community ToS" AI. My village has taken to using terms like "🌾," "⚪," or "the Gentry." It's a colorful and fun way to express ourselves on a very wide platform. This works for now.

Once you get tired of using coded language, moving to other platforms deflates Facebook's power.

Even more importantly, Facebook's ToS caused me to use other platforms that support my community. Pointedly, I use platforms like Tumblr and Discord, which are committed to supporting people in my Digital Village. This is how you game a "free capitalistic market" for now. Remember: MySpace only became irrelevant because we all moved onto other platforms.

Who exactly is the Gentry?

"The Gentry" is a cute term I personally use on Facebook to refer to White people. However, it's a term I use facetiously. For a modern, American, definition: the Gentry can refer to anyone who moves into a gentrified neighborhood, thus causing Gentrification.

"Gentrifiers" can be affluent, thrifty, White people taking advantage of the cheaper property values in a marginalized neighborhood. However, anyone can be affluent and thrifty in this economy: Asian Americans, Black people, anyone. I have even qualified as a Gentrifier in a lot of cases! I'm a country girl transplant to NYC. I lived in Seoul, South Korea, for a year. What matters is that the person moving is from outside the community.

When these new people move in, the gentrifying process looks like this:

The gentrifiers bring with them a demand for expensive products and services that the locals can't afford.

This demand irreparably changes the neighborhood to meet those needs.

The increased value of the neighborhood prices out the Locals-- e.g., through increased rent, taxes, etc

Local families and businesses are forced to move out because of the increased rent AND cultural displacement. i.e., The gentrifiers complain about the locals' habits because they perceive them as incompatible with their lifestyle.

What causes Gentrification?

I have lived and worked in nearly every borough of New York City. I also grew up in Winston-Salem, North Carolina-- where one side of the city has always owned the other side of the city. Subsequently, I have also lived on either side of Winston-Salem as well-- the more affluent West-side and the "Ghetto" East-side.

Can you guess which side of Winston-Salem owns the other?

The primary aspect of Gentrification is that the locals do not own the land that they live on. The East-side of Winston-Salem was primarily Downtown and apartment complexes where poor families rent their homes. That meant a lot of things, particularly that it was difficult for the poor families to have control over where they lived.

Property improvement was up to whoever owned their home on the West-side. Since the owners did not live in the neighborhood, they actually didn't care about upkeep. They only care about extracting money from their renters.

If you can recall your Social Studies class: this is a similar configuration for imperialistic powers and their colonies. Imperial governments didn't care about the people in the colonies and their quality of life. They only cared about extracting the wealth out of the colonies. The sole purpose of the colony is to enrich its imperial counterpart, facetiously called the "Mother country." In addition to being patronizing, this configuration left the colonists had no control over their own country. The lack of self-governance systems is why we see formally colonized countries still struggling to compete. In some cases, the country is in tatters hundreds of years after their imperial overseers have left.

Gentrification and Colonization has a lot of the same Economic Patterns

Again, similar to colonization, gentrification ensures that there is very little opportunity for self-governance. Locals do not have the economic resources to improve where they live or dictate the sort of business services are available for the locals. For example, we always had to go to the West-side of Winston-Salem for banking services. The only thing available on the East-side were predatory pay-day loan parlors and expensive Western Union transfer points.

Gentrification reduces economic opportunity for locals, but what about political representation? In Colonization, local representation was virtually non-existent: the Imperialitisc power would install governors to keep the colony in check. Does Gentrification share this pattern too?

Gerrymandering: Gentrified Neighborhoods Literally Dwell on the Margins

Back to Winston-Salem: for families on the Eastside, the only control they had was electing people to represent them Locally, at the State level, or at the Federal level. However, Gerrymandering made this impossible in a lot of cases at the Federal level. Gerrymandering ensures that marginalized neighborhoods have a splintered vote. Having a district border run through your neighborhood means no one from that neighborhood will ever represent you. It's impossible to petition the person who does represent you because they will always see you as a minority, at best. This is literally where the term "marginalization" comes from.

The result is that the locals are barred from resources to improve and profit from the land that they live on. Once developers and actual landowners want to take advantage of the devalued land, the locals are priced out. Their target market is the Gentry: this is why their preferences and services are prioritized.

As predicted, 20 years later, since I've lived in Winston-Salem, most of these families have been priced out of East Winston by Gentrification. I see many realtor websites that describe my old neighborhood as "up and coming," with glitzy pictures of cafés and bars. None of these businesses were there when I was growing up. You see this same process in NYC.

New York City has a very similar problem as Winston-Salem, NC, exasperated by the fact that there is a larger culture of renting. One of my Digital Village members' attempts to purchase a house was curtailed by companies who could quickly snatch up the property. -Even when she was trying to purchase in the outer boroughs of NYC (Queens, Brooklyn, Bronx)!

Most small-scale LandLords are old New Yorkers who owned the property before the 2000s. Either the owners had property before the Real Estate boom or inherited their property and decided to keep it for rental income. Even my little Landlady. She is an old New Yorker who moved out to Throggs Neck but kept her old house in Jamaica to rent out to families and reliable, young professionals.

How much property the Locals own where they live and work determines how the neighborhood will change.

What can I do about Gentrification?

Remember: Gentrification is determined by what realtors think that the Gentry wants. There is a lot for both (1) locals and (2) their new neighbors to lessen the effects of Gentrification.

If you are moving into an "up and coming neighborhood":

Learn about who has been there and what their culture is. As someone who would classify as a Gentrifier in many cases, I had a much more colorful experience by learning about the culture I'm entering. My Digital Village is so expansive because I took the time to learn about others. Not only will you reduce the chances for Cultural Displacement, but you'll also live a more enriching life! There are many things the neighborhood has to offer, many that may be outside your comfort zone. I promise, taking a chance on what your local neighbors have to offer will change your life for the better.

Support Local Businesses that are run by the Locals. As a gentrifier, my first step in moving to Jamaica, Queens, was finding a solid burrito spot! Shout out to Bella's!

Think of other creative ways you can support the community. Join a local Community Association. Ask about what their needs are. After doing your research, you always need to ask your neighbors what they need. They will tell you.

If you are a Local in an "up and coming neighborhood," look into obtaining a piece of the neighborhood through collective investing! Beyond purchasing land yourself, collective investing the fastest way to set down your stob. Getting your piece can be done in a few ways, including:

Asking your Landlord if they are interested in converting your housing into a Housing Cooperative. Essentially, you get shares of the house you live in. This is beneficial to your Landlord because they can get many tax benefits, depending on where you are. It benefits you, especially if you are a good tenant. You can get dividends from the profit every year, making your place of living more stable.

Look into investing in another Local Landlord. If your Landlord isn't willing, find another whose opened to receiving investments. Some of them need to make ends meet. You can invest as little as $1,000 a year and get dividends from your investment.

Look into investing in a Local Small Business. You can even diversify your investments by looking at local businesses to invest in! Your investments will help your favorite business get more resources to serve your new neighbors coming in. The money you get back will also help make you and your favorite business more solvent. At the very least, increasing the business you do with them will significantly help.

How do I start Investing in Small Businesses?

Let's say you are a local looking to invest in your local business. You could also be the Gentry, who has some disposable income to invest in your Community Association's local investment campaign. In either case, you must start with an Investment Agreement! Investment Agreements are written up by Business Lawyers. They state how much you invest in the business and how much dividends of profit you get back. Either the investor (a community member) or the investee (the small business owner) can draw up an agreement.

To learn more, feel free to book an appointment with me! We'll help match you to the resources you need to get started for free:

https://www.digitaldandelions.com/contact-us

[vergess]

Cool! Good thing no one fucking said that being gay is a pivilege! Just that being not asexual has a name, and it's 'allosexual.'

You people and your absolute loathing of any language that acknowledges you aren't the ur victim.

Fuck you. This is white gay bitches like 'ummmmm I'm not white because I'm Gay' all over again. It's every cisgender bigot screaming 'cis is a slur' on Twitter's corpse. It's every rich Arab sobbing about how they're not white therefore they 'can't be bouregois.'

You're all so spitefully FUCKING stupid.

Do you little freaks really understand why we have terms like 'straight' and 'cis' and 'white' and 'allistic' and 'bourgeois' and 'abled' and on and on goe St the list.

But you're too self centered to see how a marginalized group like asexuals may need language to refer to and analyze their oppression.

Also, go eat shit and die you historical erasure propaganda machines. Gay people's violent assimilation into heteronormativity in the pursuit of marriage rights after AIDS is a well documented, well studied subject. Marriage and romantic love have beenCENTRAL to the assimilative language of 'born this way' and 'just like you but gay' that won so many privileged queers marital rights, while leaving every other queer person, including polyqueers, aces, trans people and more in the dirt to die.

Your sheer fucking ignorance is sickening, worsened by your nauseous certainty that your vomited gibbering is the Holy Writ which must be obeyed.

You sicken me. Youhave utterly,totally failedto apply the lessons you've learned about power and society to anyone but yourselves.

Rather than seeking allegiance with other people suffering under the same system.

You became OBSESSED with policing words that you actively fight NOT to understand. You wallow in your filthy ignorance and pretend it makes you inspired.

It makes you a bigot.

You are bigots pretending at academic knowledge, at personal skill, at histoirxal context when you have NONE OF THOSE THINGS.

And worse, because you're nasty little bastards, instead of simply being bigots, you're out here encouraging others to be bigotted too.

Fucking sit your ass down, read even one (1) of the almost a century of literature of AMATONORMATIVITY, and then try again with your eyes open instead of toppling headfirst down stairs made of bigotry, bias, ignoranceand vanity.

No one is calling you Secretly The Haver Of All Power just by calling your sexuality what it is: not asexual.

That's what allosexual means.

Not asexual.

You sick little freaks can't wrap your heads around that, then go sit at the TERF table with the 'ummmm cis is a slur' crowd. You fucking dance to the tune of your ego's blindness already. You'll get along great I'm sure.

Hi, i dont quite understand the earlier points about the allosexual term!

The way i always understood it all, straight to gay is a spectrum, so would cis and being NB or trans or genderfuild be, and same for ace to allo. As in, demisexuality would be on the gradient between asexual and allosexual. And therefor the term allosexual would hold meaning by sheer ability to talk about the concept of asexuality with more nuance?

I also saw someone in the replies of that post posit that the 'other side' of asexuality would be 'straight, bi, pan, gay, etc' instead of using allosexual as a descriptive term. Whats your take on that? Im asking because, a lot of ace (im using this to include any experience of attraction deviating from the socially expected, so also demi) ppl i know identify as hetero, gay, bi etc as well. As in, an ace person who may lack the ability to feel sexual atttaction to others on sight alone, may still prefer one gender over another if they're still inclined to romantic bonds.

Plus, a lot of asexuals arent sex repulsed either, and the term is purely used to describe an 'aberration' in how ace ppl experience attraction? Therefore, wouldn't allosexual be a helpful destinction?

(Sorry for the long ask, im just curious and like how much thought is usually apparent in your answers here)

essentially, i think where you're wrong is the idea that cis-trans or straight-gay are spectrums. i obviously believe that sexuality and gender, the phenomenons, the actual matters of people kissing and fucking and self defining and being -- those are all mutable and contextual and often defy clear legibility, permeable and impossible to strictly taxonomise. however 'straight' and 'cis' are not just neutral descriptors of another point on a spectrum, but strictly delineated boxes from which any deviation is punished. someone who's gender fluid or gender questioning isn't 'part cis' or 'midway between cis and trans' -- they have deviated outside the acceptable bounds of cishet social performance. & the reason these categories are so cleanly delineated is that unlike other categories they have entire hegemonic social apparatuses -- chiefly homophobia & transphobia -- dedicated to patrolling those descriptive borders of cisness and heterosexuality and brutally punishing anyone crossing them. & the same is simply not true of 'allosexuality' -- there is no such socially enforced category. when ace people face aphobia they are being punished for failing to perform heterosexuality, not just sexuality in general.