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technicalchaotic · 4 years ago

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How about, your Clown ocs, HoM, distracting eachother? :)

[I started this literal years ago and found it in my drafts yesterday. Warnings for: parental death, references to intoxication, references to clowns doing weird things with bones, death and grief.

This takes place maybe a sweep before the start of Hope of Morning, about a sweep after Gamzee was captured. Istmun and Kalton are fantrolls. You can see more of them in Lost and Found by me, and Ain't There, by @kravkalackin ]

I’ve been sitting on this prompt for a month I don’t even fucking know at this point (and you’re deactivated??? noooo) and this is probably not remotely what you were asking for but~

You’re focusing on paperwork today. It’s past noon, the numbers swirl in front of you and you have to start the calculations over again, these are supply orders, you have family depending on these. You need to focus. It's important you get this right.

Kalton comes in, of course.

He looks like shit. Face painted with an unadorned mask for mourning. He’s got something in his hands that makes him shuffle his feet like a scolded wriggler.

“Kalton.” you sigh, “Brother, I got shit to do, so-” he holds his hands out to you, and you go still. You know what they are, you’ve seen him using those cuffs, or letting them be used on him, the rare times you get yourself to a festival. You know what he likes, he’s not the least bit shy on it, but he knows you too, and he knows better than to ask this of you. “Kalton you know I ain’t-”

“Not like that.” he says, real quiet. “I know, ‘m not gonna ask that shit of you,” he takes a breath that shudders in his throat, “don’t want it like that right now. just.” he’s not looking you in the eye and his fronds tremble where they grip the worn leather of the cuffs. “Make me forget? Just for little?”

Your heart hurts for the pity of him. Gone is the headstrong smartass that guards the hive like a rabid barkbeast. Gone’s the eternal flirt, and all that’s left is a barely-adult troll who just lost the closest thing he ever had to a lusus. You take his hand and pull the cuffs away from him.

You set them on the desk and leave them there, pull yourself to your feet. “Not here,” you tell him when he goes to protest. You still have some standards when it comes to what you let your asshole idiot best friend talk you into. “Come on, my block’s not that far.” you tap his hand reprovingly when he reaches for the cuffs again. “nah, bro, leave’m.” His face twists, bitter under the paint, but you know him, and you know his limits, and he needs something more than that, and if you’re being real honest, so do you.

Your little set of blocks ain’t far from the office you share with Shatterd, (Lord, you ain’t even thought much on Shatterd, and her moirail gone like that and— you’re not thinking on it. Kalton needs you right now, you’re focused on him. You have to focus on him and not anything else.)

You pull him through the door, past your pile of soft things, holding firm to him when he makes like to stop there. “Trust me, you fucking wreck.” your voice comes out softer than you mean, and woven with pity.

You don’t use your ablutions block much. Mostly you shower off in the subadult dorms when you’re done training a class, or in the exertion clinic when Kalton drags you out to spar, but you got yourself a nice trap, and the hot water reservoir feeds in here as well as anywhere else, and it’s private, which is the only way you can think you’d ever be undoing your best friend’s armor and letting it slide off like you are, shooshing at him when he makes confused noises. “Trust me?” You ask.

He stares at you wordlessly, eyes wide and terrified, and it almost makes you laugh in the worst way. You’ve seen him tied up, letting one of the Inquisition sisters take a knife to him, but this scares him. This makes him pause. You don’t push. You never push, you don’t dare, but after a long, silent moment, he nods. You give him the best smile you can manage, which isn’t real good, and squeeze his hand before you let go and set the tub to filling as hot as you can stand. you allow yourself a full minute of fussing with scents and oils, gifts you hardly touch mostly, before you make yourself pick something that smells green and alive, and not at all of smoke.

You set a cloth on the edge of the trap, and a bottle of the light cleansing oil for your face. You pretend you don’t hear the silence behind you.

You’re not armored. You hardly leave your office, let alone the hive, but you take the time to fold your clothes instead of captchalogging them. By the time everything is ready, the trap is full, and you turn back to Kalton, who is standing, still wide-eyed and staring at you. You hold your hand out. “You can say no.” you tell him, even if you don’t need to. “You can get dressed, and we can go sit in the pile, if you need to.”

He hesitates, which is almost enough to make you call it off. You almost reach out to wrap him in a towel, go wrap yourself around him in the pile. It would be nice. He would feel better for a little while. But it wouldn't make him forget, and he asked for forgetting.

He takes your hand and steps down into the water.

The scented oils leave a rainbow shine on the surface, below the haze of steam. It's silent in here, other than the water against the lip of the trap. He sinks into the water up to his chin. Your trap is sized for the behemoth you will be someday, if you live long enough, with room for a partner besides. With the two of you just out your first adult molt, there's space enough to stretch your limbs out and not touch the sides if you were so inclined. You sit on the edge and ease Kalton back against your legs.

You start by working your fingers through his hair. He doesn't want to talk, you think. So you go in hard and fast. Your thumbs dig into the flesh of his hornbeds firm and smooth, and he goes limp against you with a noise that makes you blush to hear.

You slip into the water behind him, holding him up so he don't slide in and drown. You keep on his horns, pressing hard enough to ride the edge of pain. You take a breath, letting the heat of the water soak into your bones, and the scent of tree resin and citrus fill your head. There's something extra in that particular oil, you think. Family always trying to get you to relax some.

His body is limp and trusting in your hold, but the physical part of this isn't what has his pan trembling as you relax and let yourself expand beyond the tight-bound knot you keep yourself tied into. You hold him against your chest, hardly minding the nakedness anymore.

Not many trolls take the time to learn this. It's something Shatterd taught you back when she figured you were as best a regular palemate as Kalton was ever gonna get, and you all were sure that he took after Infernal in temperament. Most clowns work in fear only. Few have your delicate touch. You hold him in the jaws of your chucklevoodoo, press him all down into a tight little ball of grief and rage and terror. Fear about what comes next. Anxiety about the war. Terror on how someone so solid and eternal and ageless could just be gone. You twine around the roiling storm of his own power, and you bite. Precise as a scalpel. The part of his pan that holds his fear and grief shudders and writhes for a breath, then goes quiet. You reach for fear with a funny little mental twist, and grasp pleasure, and bless Kalton for being the kind of troll where pleasure and fear live ass-to-cheekbone.

The pleasure you tug to the fore. Kalton whimpers in your arms, a sound not quite unhappy. He's clinging to you, hands wrapped around your elbow, and you let him cling, claws rhythmically gripping and releasing. You pull at his pan again, catching the wispy floating feeling of the something extra that the oil put in the water. You weave it around with pleasure, wrap it with a sharp thrill of fear, and let it go.

You hold him up as he goes limp and floats out into the water. His breathing is shallow and fast, and you can feel the fear seeping through his limbs, but his eyes are open and vacant, and his face is slack and peaceful for the first time since he came home this morning.

You float with him for a while. Until the water begins to cool and you have to decide if you want the heaters on or not. You wash his hair, careful of his face. When the water has taken on enough of a chill to be annoying you herd him out. You can't puppet him in the same crude way as the lower blues, but you can herd him with little shocks and mental nips out of your trap and into a thick towel.

You bundle him into your pile and settle his head in your lap. He comes back while you are carefully squeezing the damp from his hair. It lies in heavy coils around his shoulders now, and you're wondering if you should twist it for him while you're at it. He hasn't had time since you lost Gamzee's whole squad, and you haven't missed he's been less polished since you lost your third yearmate. He blames himself for a whole lot of things as ain't his fault.

"Lv't." He mumbles, batting your fronds away. Loose it is. He comes back slow, and words come nearly last, the few times you've done this for him.

You wait until he blinks. Until pupils contract and expand and focus on your face where you lean over him. Not until he's aware enough to stop you do you catch his chin in gentle fingers, and pour a little cleansing oil on the rag. He doesn't stop you when you press the cool rag to his face. His paint was fresh enough, you could have left it. But he needs to be laid bare and taken down to his core, you think. So piece by piece, with a rag worn old and soft and thin by generations of trolls using it for just this purpose, you strip his face from him.

Beneath the paint he looks young. Afraid. His cheekbones are hollow and sharp from too much exercise and not enough food. You clean the paint from his thin lips. From the proud arch of his nose, the slight crookedness where more than one troll has tried to flatten it for him. You love his face, so you take your time. You press your fingers along the pressure points of his face as you work, and by the time you are done, he's gone again. This time his face is sweeter, eyes half-shut in relaxation. It's a gentler place you've sent him, now. When his face is clean of paint, you slide down and curl yourself around him, drag your heavy blanket over the both of you, the one weighted down with glass and steel beadwork so it presses you both into the pile like the lusus neither of you had. You settle against him, his face tucked against your throat, and pet his hair, and wait.

When you feel his chest hitch, and tears drip against your skin, you stroke the back of his neck and shoosh him softly. "I know, brother, I know."

He cries himself to dry, hiccupping sobs, and then to unconsciousness. When he wakes he looks better. His eyes are still raw and swollen from crying, the set of his mouth is still fragile. But he's not lost and shaken anymore.

"What are we gonna do?" He asks your collarbone.

"There's still wrigglers as need gathering," you say gently, like Shatterd didn't break the news by sending you the promotion paperwork. "I expect they'll need a troll on that as knows the work." You stroke your claws through his hair, careful not to snag his curls. "She wanted to go in the cathedral. New chandelier is what Shatterd said. Someone with good hands oughta shape her." That almost sets him off again, mouth trembling. "If you can't do it-"

"No!" He takes a deep, shuddering breath, "She always said she wanted me to do it. Joking, like. I want to. When the rendering is done. I-" he sets his jaw. "She deserves the best. But I'm all thats left of the lusus clade." He rubs an eye, makes a face. "Gimme paint. 'Nd a mirror." There's a new fire in his eye as you hand him the paintpots and hold your little hand mirror for him. Its not his usual hearts and spades paint. You see a little of Infernal in the inverted darts on his cheekbones, the painted fangs on his lips. He looks himself when he's painted again. Harder, more sure. You can still feel anxiety fluttering in him as you pull your voodoos back into their tidy little knot, but he's steadier now. He can do this.

You pull him down so you can press a kiss to his hair. "She's got the best, she knew that when she asked for you." The smile he gives you is shaky, but solid enough. He's ready. As long as the family sticks together, it'll come out right in the end.

#dramaph0ne #My Writing #Hope of Morning #assorted fantrolls #no editing we die like mne #Kalton Aerris #Istmun #i forget his last name #for the three of you in the know #Infernal is Sirrah #And Shatterd is Shel #theyre in lesbians #or they were anyway #happy 414 #day late and a dollar short with fic only like four people in the world are interested in.

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koncreates · 5 years ago

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I don't wanna post this on my art or fantroll blogs because I dont want to hurt anybody's feelings accidentally but!!! Gosh every time I do art trades I always very suddenly remember why I Do Not Do Art trades. This last one I did on my fantroll blog with @themisfitsedge was (and I am not exaggerating here) the BEST art trade experience I've had in a long time! (and the one I did with Videcoeur a few months ago was very good as well!! Highly recommend doing trades with them if either of them want to do a trade!!)

But like...

Listen, I am not picky whatsoever when it comes to quality of art. Art takes time and effort and everyone works at different skill levels and I absolutely adore seeing all the different styles I get to see through trades!! But the second someone in a trade starts acting like I owe them something over the top when

We haven't even started a trade yet

They haven't shown me their half

They give me something that I know for a fact they only spent like 20 minutes on

I get!!! kinda pissed!! I only owe you something if you Have Paid Me or have Already Shown Me Your Half and I Know that it is what we agreed on. Like... you may think you're being sneaky but it is very easy for me to tell the difference between someone who genuinely wants to trade art with me and someone who wants to get a free commission in exchange for 15 minutes of their time. (Made a great deal easier by the fact that the latter usually come out of the woodwork after I post finished trade pieces).

Without fail I always spend at LEAST an hour on my art trade pieces. The last one I did took about 5 hours to do- partially because I was learning a new program, but mostly because I want to create something that my partner will want to stare at for minutes on end and love!! Something that does their character justice and will hopefully brighten their day whenever they see it...

This is why I always ask to see my partner's half first or will only exchange the pieces at the same time. If I trust my trade partner or are their friend already then I might not, but if i don't know someone well or suspect that they might only want free art then I will always let them know that I do not post my half first.

If I get a bad vibe from your messages? I won't accept your trade request.

If you are rude to me and act entitled to my time and art? I won't accept your trade request.

If I have had a bad experience with you in the past? I wont accept your trade request.

I'm not obligated to accept your trade request if I just don't want to trade with you.

Like... I'm not a hard person to get along with and I give people WAY too many chances to treat me wrong. But damn man, if you make me feel like a shaken soda can is about to explode in my chest just by setting up a trade with you??? Then boy howdy am I NOT gonna waste my time on something I know I'll be disappointed by.

Anyway tldr spending hours working on something special for another person that was agreed on to be a colored piece by both parties, only to be given sketches on lined paper over bio homework really changes a man lmao.

#kizza speaks #rant

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officiallytox · 5 years ago

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What’s post development? What happened?

Post development:

- He was successfully kidnapped by bounty hunters. He’s lowkey with his technopathy ability and has no other psychic ability, so he was not collared. When he woke up and could think clearly enough, he contacted an extremely overpowered friend through his kidnapper’s phone, and she rescued him, and he never returned to the timeline, effectively saving him from guaranteed death at ascension which was about a month away by that point. Ascension in this timeline is ten sweeps, rather than eight.

- He’d been doing a pitch dance of keep-a-way with Theo (A maroon Eridan from a separate timeline) for a few months before then, but of course, he wouldn’t date because he thought he was going to die. So, after the chaos calmed down, Theo became his first official quadrant. The two are part of one of the best pitch relationships I’ve had the pleasure of roleplaying, and the two have helped each other heal and grow and go passed their limits exponentially. Thanks to Theo, Infrared (Which is what Red is short for) now wears crimson red in his outfits, when he used to be scared of displaying the color. He’s also stopped wearing sunglasses.

- He lived with his rescuer (Zuanak) for several months afterward, and he learned how to adjust to people, his color, and being in charge of his life in that time. He went from thinking he was hatched a cullable mistake to taking life by the reigns and controlling it himself. There’s still a lot of trauma there, but he’s doing a great job for himself instead of wallowing in his damage.

- He’s moved to a new timeline and started a business called Infrared Industries where he sells his inventions and takes commissions. Since it’s on a multiversial-hub planet, it’s friendly to literally any crossover as a starting RP point for any type of character, which is convenient for me. He’s basically Tony Stark without also being Iron Man because he makes the suits for other people. I did consider it though, I really did. The fucker’s rich though, and he’s got good backers.

- The Feferi of his timeline is maroon and she helped him with drone season. He went back for her after her molt because her master went from tolerable to a creep and Red finally had the tools to retrieve her and get out without getting captured himself.

- Feferi was another blocked love interest, and she’s now his moirail. He has a second moirail because the boy is polyamorous, and that would be Ailean Ampora, a Beforus Eridan whom is also his sponser and provides him with money if his own funds are lacking for projects. (Being an engineer and inventor is expensive, so is running a business and paying a living wage to all of your employees.)

- He’s been engaged in the slowest fucking burn of a flushed dance with an original Lime fantroll named Saness and they need to HOOK UP ALREADY GOD.

- He doesn’t full-on panic anymore when he sees his blood, but he is still shaky about it.That was only a year ago, it’s going to take a long time before he heals.

- He’s been in extremely healthy relationships and environments since he left his timeline and it’s been only positive growth because of that, which is a large factor on why he’s so successful.

- Due to the tumblr shenanigans of magic anons, he’s now a succubus instead of a troll, with everything that comes with being a demon, and since he was very prudish this has helped boost his confidence a lot without changing his behavior at its core. He’s still troll-like as a demon, rather than human-like.

- He’s basically not scared anymore, a talented inventor, a successful business man, a good romantic partner, a good boss, this tiny man has his shit together and I’m proud of where his character development took him in the passed year thanks to the wonderful muses he had to play alongside.

#asks #homestuck #Anonymous

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outragedslime · 8 years ago

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okay so theres basically no jade as a mom au that i know of and i wanted to change that so heres steb who i love and adore !! i made this ages ago and i finally cleaned up some concepts like... idk.. yesterday.....

shes an olive blood troll girl that jade adopted one time she visited rose and kanaya in their nursery thingy with all the grubs. anyways jade loves steb with all her heart. her actual name is stephe but the other kids said it as steb at first and now thats her nickname from everyone and nobody ever calls her anything else.

she eats pebbles sometimes and will come home crying because she had an argument with a fish she saw in the stream that swam away and left her alone. she walks on all fours sometimes and will come home smelling of dirt and grass.

they also own two dogs together, huge white dogs called benny and carol. steb loves sitting on them and they dont mind it. she loves them

she will give u ‘’gifts’’. live bugs and frogs etc. in boxes. if youre taking a walk with her she will offer you a cool rock she found on the ground because she likes the rock and she likes you too so it reminded her of you.

also her symbol shows her adventurous side!! i did an X because x marks the spot, then put an upward-facing triangle (the sign for fire) on top to show a lil campfire

#kolo emerges #dood #guys i... love steb #fantroll #steb harley #ocs #kid au #i dont want to tag this as the official name for parent aus in hs coz i dont wanna stop the good work the girls are doing #and i dont wanna be annoying either #idk ��how to tag this au tho.........#my parent au #idk ill tag it as that if i ever post anything else about it #i dont wanna get too into this bc the girls are doing a great job w the r0sem4ry and vr1sr3zi kids #typed it like that so it wont go into tags sorry #anyways if anyones interested theres also.... more to this au #i actually started making it months ago but i abandoned it #tbh i only made like 2 kids at first. d4vekats and ter3zis (she later found vris when the kid was already like a sweep or two old)#but now ive also two r0semar ie kids and steb !!!! i fucking love steb guys #insects //#jade harley #i love this kid she will eat a bug when you dare her but then cry because the bugs family will be sad and she will be angry at herself #but she will only get sad after she eats the bug!! she will do it #she wont go back on a dare #she probably got into a fight with a raccoon at some point #shes bffs with one of rose and kans kids and she also likes all the others but mostly the ros3mary kid whos an indigo blood troll called max #max is sometimes called bunny and hes a sweetie and he will cry if you do anything mean to him #steb wants to protect him especially from any dangers in the wild world #she will take a big stick and start beating a nearby bush just in case theres some worms in it !!! shes very energetic i love her #jade rose and kan take long walks by jades fields sometimes and the kids come along too and they all run around playing tag and stuff #i love them all so much

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alwayslateornever · 5 years ago

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strikercorbie replied to your photoset

What the flying fuck is this??

I’m assuming you read the tags, so lets start from the beginning. This got long fast so under a read more it goes~

A coworker “E” invited me to join her husband, sister, and son on a new dnd campaign. They’ve played dnd for years, gone through multiple campaigns, most of them with her husband “R” being the dm. I chose a Firbolg as my first character, a giant soft boy named Fig raised by dwarven monks in a brewery. He was scared and not born to fighting. He was also trans, which I didn’t tell R.

(I was going to work actual white into his outfit later, but it should be obvious his color scheme is based on the trans flag)

Right out the gate (literally less than 5 minutes into the campaign) R makes a quip about how one of the female player characters was extremely hot and that the two men of the part (Fig and a dwarven cleric) are showing obvious interest. in their pants.

(please imagine the literal pain I caused myself trying NOT to eyeroll in front of R at this)

I didn’t follow through with this idea of his, and tried to vaguely insinuate that Fig wasn’t attracted to anyone. Like me, who is ace. R obviously wasn’t happy about me not continuing his “funny” joke, but the subject was dropped. The same sort of joke came up again with the main antagonist in our story, a YOUNG, UNDERAGE GIRL. Again I didn’t take the bait, and thankfully after that he stopped trying that sort of “joke”.

However this campaign was broken into chapters, and R wanted to play a character in the next chapter and handed dming off to his son, J.

We only played a single session with J dming, because he never planned ahead, and R spent the whole time belittling him. (this wasn’t new, every session R was doing this to his own son)

Because that campaign essentially fell through, and with the release of the Ravnica expansion, R began a new campaign, and @gettinziggywithit was invited to join in place of my coworkers sister. (who had stopped coming because of bs reasons all her own, and so R just killed off her character. No one was sad about this)

R has a... passion? for writing up characters, so he wrote up a dwarven bard for Katie, which she decided to give an apprehension engine instrument. (which is such a fun idea and played well with her characters personality, but I think R forgot this or just decided to veto it outright) (this isn’t important to post but it was important to me)

In this I made a female human rogue (as R had made a small comment prior in direct relation to the “joke” from before about how I played a male character) named Nora, who was basically Dexter (from same named show). E also made a female character (ranger gnome? I cant remember), and their son J was to join later.

Our first session, we are trying to leave this bog area, and we get ambushed by...Sucker Eels! A creature of R’s own creation!

What do sucker eels do you ask? They jump into your mouth, lock themselves in, and proceed to lay tons of eggs inside you that unless you get to a healer in time, will devour you from within. That is if you don’t suffocate during the process, as trying to dislodge them make them burrow DEEPER.

Both Katie and my characters fucking deep throat some eels, all to the amusement of R. Our characters get healed up, but we only do 2 sessions.

At the same time of these sessions, R starts talking to a coworker about doing a game with them as well, which this coworkers wife would DM as R wanted to actually play for once. So, I write up a new character, a dwarven female rogue named Ira Octava. Who is my Dragon Age: Inquisition character. Who was based on my fantroll.

(don’t talk to me about ASLOD feels I will ALWAYS have ASLOD feels dude)

I headcanon that dwarven women also grow beards, Ira just likes to shave. Also she’s 19. Also she’s trans. Still didn’t tell anyone.

This campaign started out well enough, but it quickly devolved as R kept redirecting the focus. Also I should note, he makes pretty well balanced and fun characters for others, but his own characters are min/maxed to hell. which really isn’t fun to play against.

This campaign also only lasted 2 sessions. Not because of R, but because we had to drive 2 HOURS (because R and E refuse to use toll roads, which would have made the trip 45 minutes) to the coworkers apartment, where a 5 year old treated us like a jungle gym, stole our dice, and tried to get into every bag/purse we’d brought. Which the parents really didn’t give a crap about.

NOW

R suggested, because of the drive and the time restrictions, that we should try a session over discord. He would gm this one, and we’d be moving away from dnd and working with the mutant and masterminds set up. Superheroes and the like kind of game. Right off the bat I new I wanted to play a character I already had. Dude McMarrs.

Dude’s story came to me in horror packed dream filled with space crafts, aliens, body horror, death and humor. Also you know, Venom was still fresh in my mind, and I literally already had a symbiote character so it was an easy choice.

The thing is, Dude is also trans male. That was part of the dream, and I refused to remove this from his character. Again, I wasn’t going to tell anyone in the game, as I knew it would be made into “a thing” somehow, which I hate.

Except, I was already getting tired of R’s bs attitude, humor, and opinions. So when on the one trip we made to go talk about the game and characters in person, he makes the remark “You don’t play male characters well”, I make the dumbest statement alive. I say “well he’s trans.” like that’s different somehow. Not my best moment, but I was getting frustrated. I felt dread immediately.

R is questioning it at first, kind of like “why?”, and then tries to science against it with “no trans individuals in space because of taking hormones”, and I actually make a stand and shut him down. We’re doing a superhero setting, which is a fantasy world, WITH SPECIFICALLY HIGHER ADVANCED TECHNOLOGIES AND MEDICINE, and you’re going to try and be “realistic” about a trans dude in space? I didn’t back down, and it payed off. I actually win, I get to have this character be themselves openly instead of once again hiding it.

This happened 2 months ago, and I kept making it a point to be firm about Dude being trans. And R actually seemed to be okay with it. I was filled with confidence about this game, and being relaxed with a character I knew. I was starting to think maybe R just had a crap sense of humor, but was actually a decent human being.

Now, I don’t know.

The post came from an email he sent to everyone, basically asking for background info and basic character info. WHICH HE HAS ALREADY FROM ME. On that info, Dude is labeled male, because he is male. He’s a trans man, he is male. period.

But the thing is, he could have just left it at “are you a boy or a girl?” and there would be no hurt. That’s standard questionnaire stuff and it doesn’t bother me. Instead, he typed out the additional “(there is no third answer)”. That was unnecessary. That was intentional.

And ya, I may be taking this overboard for a character, but this statement also invalidates my identity. I’m agender. I’m still working through my own social concepts of gender and gender roles, but everyday I accept who I am and that I am agender. So seeing this, honestly hurt. Does R know I’m agender? No. and I had no intentions of telling him before this. Now I just really don’t want to be a part of this group. Even though I was excited for this game. But whatever, it’ll either never even start as other people are dragging their feet, or it will be abandoned pretty quick.

END OF RANT BONUS: Your standard instagram bathroom mirror photo of Dude before the shuttle mission.

A guy happy and comfortable in his own body. Thanks for reading.

#long post #sorry this is so long and exposition-y #I'm just very done at this point #I'm done with people not even trying to be decent human beings #This also comes after yesterday where I tried to have an open discussion about gender and sexuality #with my mom #and she kept trying to talk over me and derail the subject #and for once I kept pushing it #but it's still very clear that she refuses to even consider anything on the gender subject #I don't know what to tag this honestly #rant #my art

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