#because they are THEMSELVES the public in question

[enby-spacerok]

this is just me again talking only to me on a blog no one looks at but it's 2am and I'm awake all sicky:

art, I find, is such an amorphous thing to define and I think I've landed on it being undefinable in a way that it can be defined and made true in a billion different ways by each individual.

I met artists that died for their art. struggled because they thought that was true art. to suffer for it was to really dedicate one's self fully.

I've met artists who sold out and produced to sell what was popular in the social circles who'd looked their way according to people who had the money to spend.

I've met total asshats who created a persona to perform to package their art and themselves and rip off and appropriate whatever or whoever to get what they want.

I've worked with production potters whose goal were to sell a ware and make enough to earn a living. To produce and market.

And I've seen all these people fight amongst each other as to who's work was truly "Art"

For me, I can talk about subject, form, intent, emotion, skill, technique, purpose, so on and so forth. But I can also talk about context, history, and production ethics.

The art world is predatory, in all it's forms. Galleries, music producers, film studios, even small businesses run out of third party websites. Anything you buy in the art world can raise a lot of ethical questions. And fuck if anyone knows what will catch the eyes and interests of the masses. Why is also something we can argue about but ugh let's not get too far in the weeds.

Ultimately though I take issue with putting down anything that has reached the masses. Conflating popularity with being a sellout is dangerous, incorrect, and makes me question what type of social construct is trying to be built with that statement.

Pop music is not a crime. I will die by that mantra.

Popularity does not mean sanitization

Kink, raunchyness, or "shocking" content does not equal "Art"

Judging what is Art with the benchmark of it 'being made true from the heart' is an outside individual's experience of the artist that cannot be perceived from outside the artist. It might be art that does not appeal to you - is that not true from the heart? An artist might tell you all about their process and inspiration - and they can lie to you.

That said...

Art has this curious thing of being inspired by what is in vogue. It is often a conversation and results in rebellion. It's also been seen over and over that artists pushing back against the popular become popular themselves in time. So when does art stop being true to the heart?

Oh boy are we asking an interesting question here :3

Nirvana described themselves as pop music, but they were born from the underground scene. We're they no longer Art then?

Vincent van Gogh was unwaveringly supported by his brother Theo to make Art but wasn't much recognized while he was alive. He only sold one painting before he committed suicide. Was his work Art because he struggled with mental health and worked tirelessly and died having believed he didn't truly achieve his dream of becoming a Great Artist? Did his work always come from the heart because of those things? Is his work worthless now that it's marketable to the masses? Now that it is popular?

Keith Harring was incredibly prolific and a man who chose to market himself in order to make art more accessible to the masses. He was a huge philanthropist, brought joy to his local community and worldwide, and deeply influenced mainstream art. His art surely came from his heart AND a collection of it was raunchy (less well-known). But he marketed himself purposefully. It was part of his art. He learned from street art and painted everywhere in public (illegally) until he was too recognizable. Is only some of his work "Art"? Are only the gay parts true Art? Is the baby not radiant?!

It is a great exercise to try and define art, and definitely a worthwhile pursuit. I can guarantee every time you do it though it will slip through your fingers. It will evade you. It will change each time you think about it. Each time you view or experience or create.

What I will not abide by is exclusionary verbage. That falls into the same trap as big time galleries who scrape 50% of the profits.

I find it much more worth while to discuss how to create a community that allows every artist to explore what brings them joy and give them the freedom to do wildly different things throughout their career. So there is place for the plein air painters, the graffiti artists, and straight up, gay ass kinky furry porn.

I'm against art being sanitized and mass marketed/marketable to masses. so when I see my mutuals draw their queer furry Sonas and characters being horny or indulging in their kinks or self expression it makes my heart full. I encourage every artist out there to draw from their heart and worry less about being appealing to others.

[drdemonprince]

I see you post against the global blackout on insta and I understand the sentiment, that it doesn’t make a difference but actually we’ve got major Palestinian civilian advocacy groups saying This is what we’re doing and why, and it feels like the West goes “oh there’s no point let’s not bother”. But in actual fact it’s Something. Which is better than nothing. It’s so easy for us to say it’s not worth it. Because we don’t want to give up a day of paid work, social media and online shopping. But when people in Palestine and the major charities actually on the ground working with them want this, isn’t it actually a show of solidarity regardless of our views on it, the actual impact, and our own in inconvenience? Regardless of impact.

Not shopping for one day isn't all that inconvenient. I don't know about you but I have no buy days all the time. It's not much of a sacrifice, if a person wants to do it and feels that it's a good exercise or symbolic or what-have-you, they should do what they feel is right. But showing respect to a people and a cause means being willing to discuss tactics, express disagreement, identify whose political ideals are in alignment with yours, and convey what one personally thinks is right.

Just because a person is Palestinian doesn't mean that their political ideology or theory of how political change happens aligns with your own, or with any kind of leftist politics. There are a great many Palestinian public figures who are not in any way revolutionary or liberationist. The majority of the charities that exist in Gaza are created and controlled by people in imperial countries, and all these charities operate with harsh restrictions placed upon them that limit how challenging to the existing status quo they can be. Many of them have explicit policies of normalizing the apartheid regime.

And just because a person is affected directly by the genocide doesn't mean they have expertise in tactics or economics -- in fact, it is outrageous that the entire Western world is relying upon a people who are actively being genocided, still, to give us our marching orders and plan our wing of resistance for us. Solidarity isn't just standing around waiting for a people in crisis to tell you what to do. It's organizing and tacting action, lending your support, your expertise, your money, your time, taking a stand for something, asking questions, suggesting alternatives, proposing new acts, participating actively in resistance on every level.

It's also important to keep in mind that the calls we see that come from Palestinians the most often are the ones who have been elevated to the status of Influencer or Head of a Nonprofit-- with all the competing motivations and financial and social incentives that involves. We are not hearing from a lot of Palestinian people on the ground who lack a sizeable platform, who do not have internet or phone access, and whose organizing and resistance take forms that are not social media friendly. The call to "listen to Palestinian voices" is a lot more complex than simply doing what a person on social media -- even a number of popular figures! -- has to say. No person or group can speak for a whole people, or a whole movement.

I believe that taking a single day off from shopping is appealing because it asks so little. It demands almost no organizational work or effort from Americans. It's inert and ineffectual, provably so, but something a person can pat themselves on the back for doing and then go back to their day. It's like almost every form of "activism" that has been promoted on social media for years now -- and it's telling that people won't learn, won't build the infrastructure necessary to make something more dramatic or longer-lasting happen, that members of the imperial core just keep sitting around on social media expecting other people to tell us what we should do to end the imperialism and genocide we are complicit in.

We need to do a whole lot more than not shopping for one day, and we need to do a lot of things that cannot be posted about on social media.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

So what exactly happened? That's a good question because I have no idea what Zelensky was thinking. This was not a situation where President Donald Trump was beating him over the head or demanding he submit to a specific narrative surrounding the war in Ukraine. On the contrary, the meeting was essentially over when Zelensky decided it'd be a great idea to try to publicly embarrass Trump and Vice President JD Vance in front of the press. The sticking point appeared to be Vance, who was wrapping up the press conference, mentioning diplomacy being a means to end the war. Zelensky, for whatever reason, took great offense at that suggestion and asked the vice president if he could ask him a question. The Ukrainian president then leaned forward and began to dismiss the idea of a ceasefire, citing deals that Russia has broken in the past. That's when things touched off, with Zelensky and Vance going back and forth. 

...

This was a colossal miscalculation by Zelensky. Trump has never��accepted the idea that Ukraine is doing the United States a favor by fighting Russia as a way of justifying unlimited aid. Perhaps Joe Biden found that argument persuasive, but Joe Biden is not in office anymore. Russia is not going to invade the United States or any NATO country (if for no other reason than a lack of capability), and using that as a type of blackmail for support was never going to play.  Here's the deal. Fairness or being "right" doesn't factor into a situation like this. Zelensky is in a desperate spot, and Trump had largely acquiesced to a very Ukraine-friendly deal over the last few days (including lowering the repayment amount to just $90 billion). The negotiations were over. All the Ukrainian president had to do was show up, shake hands, smile for the cameras, and sign the deal. His attempt to lecture Trump and Vance for the cameras was an ego move that he didn't have the leverage to pull off.  Trump does not care about the press. You aren't going to bully him into a certain point of view by appealing to CNN or any other legacy news outlet. Whether that's fair or not is irrelevant. What's relevant is the reality of the moment, and Zelensky chose to pick a fight with Vance when it was completely unnecessary. Liz Cheney and David Frum may do performative outrage online, but they are not going to cut a check to Ukraine. Zelensky needed this deal and chose to blow it up for no good reason. What was the point of him even coming to the White House if he was going to publicly denounce any possible ceasefire?  What this really comes down to is how Zelensky handled this. If he has issues with Trump negotiating a deal with Putin, then he should express those behind closed doors, which is something Vance pointed out during the exchange. By trying to embarrass and undermine the U.S. president in public, he destroyed an already frayed relationship. In doing so, he might have cost his country its war. 

Zelensky is a fucking idiot. He doesn't realize he's not dealing with Biden's interns anymore. Trump and Vance aren't going to be awed by his faux-combat gear aesthetic and his tough guy posturing while he play acts as a war general. They don't see Russia as an invincible Sauron-esque boogeyman being held back from world domination by the brave stalwart forces of Gondor Ukraine. They understand that Putin is bankrupting his country failing to fully conquer Ukraine. They know that Russia is having to recommission museum tanks and send them to the frontlines because they're in dire need of armor. Russia is no threat to anyone outside of small, non-NATO countries like Ukraine, and even those countries can put up a good fight. War with Russia is never coming to US shores. The only way American soldiers and Russian soldiers exchange fire is if the US sends troops overseas to fight in another foreign war that has nothing to do with us. Zelensky is so used to western leaders falling over themselves to cozy up to him in the media that he stupidly thought calling Trump out in front of cameras would get him to play nice and take his scolding like a good little Eurotard weakling. But Trump has never played nice for the media. And he's never pulled his punches when it comes to European leaders and the bullshit games they play. If you want to temper Trump, you do it behind closed doors. That's where Trump negotiates. You call him out in public, he's going to Little Rocket Man your ass until you come crawling to him on hands and knees begging for him to stop.

Zelensky is a theater kid playing at being a wartime leader. He's squandered so many chances to end this war and save his people from continued death and he passes them all up because he wants to be the brave leader who beat Putin and conquered Russia. He's a comedian who has no idea what it means to actually be a leader. And when he comes crawling back to Trump, because he will come crawling back, he's going to be lucky if all he has to pay is the $500 billion in mineral rights Trump originally wanted.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Can I request Matt and Frank with a neurodivergent reader who rocks to self-soothe when they’re overstimulated/anxious

Hello darling! Absolutely you can. I’m sorry it took me so long to respond, it’s been a WEEK. Wayyyy too many thoughts below the cut.

Let me just say, I think both Matt and Frank would be fantastic partners to someone who is neurodivergent. They both understand the constant frustration and sense of injustice and all that.

Matt

It would take a few weeks for Matt to even realize what you were doing, I think. He can hear the movement, but it wouldn’t really seem off to him, given how much time he spends with Foggy–who never STOPS moving.

Because he doesn’t have much experience with people who are neurotypical and not stressed beyond belief, he’s sort of used to people fidgeting and doing what they can to calm themselves.

I don’t think he would bring it up without someone else prompting. Maybe Foggy or Karen says something offhandedly, catching you by surprise. You hadn’t even noticed you were doing it at the time, swaying your weight to your heels and back to the balls of your feet, your body rocking with the movement.

“Don’t worry, sport! We’re coming.” Foggy laughed, shoving his arms into the sleeves of his coat as the four of you prepared to grab lunch.

You froze, suddenly regaining your self-awareness and immediately choking on a wave of embarrassment.

“Ready to go?” Matt’s voice startled you out of your stupor, making you jump

“Uh yes. Sorry.” The apology was instinctive, habitual. A symptom of perpetually feeling like your innocuous stims were troublesome for others.

“Why are you sorry?” Head tilting in the signature way it always did when he was concerned, Matt’s hand came to rest on your arm as he scanned you for evidence of harm.

“Nothing. We should catch up.” You murmured, hurrying out of Matt’s office to follow his business partners out of the building.

He’d let you deflect, but he’d set the thought in a special corner of his mind, privately vowing to bring it up at a later time.

After Foggy and Karen had escaped the pile of paperwork in the conference room, hesitantly allowing you and Matt to sort through it without them, he’d leap on the opportunity.

“Out with it,” The command is tender but stern, very classic Matt.

“Out with what?” Playing dumb worked sometimes, easier than an outright lie in front of a breathing polygraph machine.

“You’ve been biting your tongue since before lunch.” Apparently your go-to strategy wasn’t going to work this time. “What happened? Did I say something?”

The fear simmering below his concern caught your attention immediately. You had to answer now. “No nothing like that, Matty. I just..got in my head.”

“About what?” His wandering gaze is so earnest, you cave immediately. You tell him everything. The way you always felt different from those around you. The confusion and constant frustration when you inevitably misunderstood people. The pile of issues you had with various sounds and textures. The need to rock back and forth in place when you were nervous or overwhelmed, and the shame that forced you to stop when someone laughed or criticized you.

As always, Matt listens. Asks a question here or there, to help himself understand, but he seems to get it. There’s no judgement in his eyes, only total acceptance and a blaze of protective fury.

Once he knows about the stim, he would fiercely defend you in public. Scold people for staring and encourage you to do whatever you needed to do to feel comfortable.

Frank on the other hand would notice it VERY quickly.

This man is capital O Observant so he spots the rocking before you’re even together.

He has weird fidgety things he does too so he’s not judging whatsoever. He’s not interested in dissecting the root cause if it’s not hurting you or anyone else. So he jots it down in his mental notes about you and moves on past.

I think he’d also pick up on the soothing nature of it, notice that you seem calmer when you allow yourself to stim. So when he catches you in a bad mood or in a stressful moment, he’d pull you flush against his chest, one hand cradling your back while the other cups your head, and he’d rock the two of you together. (If you need to rock alone, he’d absolutely let you. But this personally would be nice for me so I’m including it lol)

If anyone ever commented on it, they’d find themselves on the other side of a MURDEROUS stare, urging them to quickly apologize and move on with their day

[andersunmenschlich]

As I understood the question, you asked which of the bimodal cluster of gender traits associated with the Woman label is shared by all women (and no one else), and I gave you the one that seems to meet that qualification.

If you'd asked which of the bimodal cluster of sex traits associated with the Female label is shared by all female people (and no one else), I'd have had equal trouble.

Women have many more gender traits in common, on average, than just their high level of comfort with being called women. Female folks have many more sex traits in common, on average, than just the vagina they had when they were born. But these two traits are the ones most commonly used as the cores of these two classifications: one without the input of the babies being classified, and the other with the input of the children, teens, and adults classifying themselves.

You say "stereotypes are inherently harmful and oppressive," but "male" and "female" are stereotypes you seem to be more than okay with.

Can you give a definition of "male" or "female" that doesn't harm people who don't conform to stereotype: a definition that doesn't reinforce the idea that intersex people should have their bodies altered (even without their consent) to conform?

No, of course not. Just having the categories reinforces the idea that people should conform. But does this mean these sex stereotypes—these two boxes artifically separating a bimodal cluster of traits into a distinct binary—should be thrown out altogether? "Who needs to know whether someone is 'male' or 'female'; we should all just be humans"?

Personality traits tend to cluster much the same way sex traits do. Of course it's possible to be non-assertive and a leader, or assertive and a follower. But it's not as likely as the other way 'round.

If a person's body has more "female" traits than "male" ones, it's helpful to classify that person as female—it gives you a better idea of what sex traits you're likely to encounter in a medical or sexual situation. If a person's personality has more "womanly" traits than "manly" ones, it's helpful to classify that person as a woman—it gives you a better idea of what personality traits you're likely to encounter in a social situation.

Every stereotype is overly simplified. Every person's body is different; everyone's personality is different.

The basic categories are still useful, which is why we use them.

Bigotry comes in when we assume that people will conform to stereotypes assigned to them by others, rather than stereotypes they themselves have chosen to form their own personal public face.

Regarding bodily autonomy: I think handing a bottle of insulin to a non-diabetic who knows that what's in that bottle is potentially deadly to them is less harmful than withholding the bottle from them because you've decided you know better than them what they want to do to their own body and with their own life.

I also think that if they want to die in a less painful way, it's your job as their doctor to help them achieve that goal.

(Note well that if their ultimate goal is "stop the pain" rather than "die," and you know how to stop the pain without death, you should help them achieve that goal—but if someone genuinely wants to die painfully they should have that right.)

[rewatching-sam-and-dean]

I normally try not to weigh in too much on the actors themselves, but fandom is being hysterical (not in the funny way) as usual after The Boys promo video with J2 and Misha.

Here are some facts:

Jensen went to Kripke and asked if he had anything for him after SPN ended. Kripke helped him craft his audition until it would be acceptable for the other producers. We know this happened because Jensen told us, and he talked about it multiple times. There is nothing wrong with him going to Kripke for work. This is networking, and it’s what actors should do.

Jared never once publicly asked to be on The Boys. At most, he answered fan questions when asked what kind of character he’d like to play, but he never actually hinted he wanted a part. In articles, when asked if he’d join, Jared essentially said he was too busy filming Walke, in a polite way. Also fact, Kripke has hinted at wanting Jared on The Boys before Walker was cancelled, and he did so publically. Then when Walker was cancelled, Kripke really ramped up the public pitches to get Jared on the show, and was publicly psyched when Jared finally agreed. Jared never, publicly at least, even asked or hinted at wanting to be on The Boys, never mind begged.

Misha hinted multiple times publicly, including tagging Kripke on social media directly, that he’d like to be on the show. Kripke never said anything publicly, as far as I’m aware, about wanting or trying to get Misha on the show prior to the announcement from yesterday. When he talked about getting the biggest SPN Pokémon, it was when Jared finally signed on. When he talked about breaking the internet again, it was in reference to a J2 reunion on screen. When he talked about reuniting the SPN trio, it was in reference to JA, JP and JDM, not Misha. Was Kripke always planning to include Misha once he finally got Jared? Maybe. Is it possible he wasn’t going to bother with Misha until or unless he got Jared too? Yes. He could have hired Misha on at any time before and never did. Misha definitely publicly begged to be on the show, and Kripke never said anything in return to, or regarding, him being on the show until now. Kripke probably only brought him on because he thought of something funny/gross/trolling to do with J2 and him on screen.

Ultimately, I would have preferred not to have Misha in The Boys because when I finally get to see J2 on screen together, I didn’t really want him there, too. It feels like trying to shoehorn Castiel in with the brothers again from forced SPN scenes. But, I’ve also lost interest in the show itself, so I’ll probably pick and choose what moments I bother to watch anyway.

That being said, The Boys has a whole cast beyond Jensen being a regular in Season 5, never mind it being a giant J2 reunion that will take up a bunch of screen time. So, adding Misha to the mix isn’t exactly robbing fans of long and significant J2 moments on screen. (Though I’d still be happy for him not to be in their scenes at all).

Honestly, Kripke probably wanted Jared so bad, at least in part, so he could bank on free publicity in social media from Jared and J2 fans. He already had the Jensen fans on board. Similarly, he probably decided to add Misha for the same reason. Happy or not about his addition, people are talking about it on many social media platforms, this bring free attention yo the show.

Kripke just wants publicity.

What I want is to get out of this is at least one solid (hopefully more), Misha-less moment between J2 on screen.

But people are really losing their shit over what might amount to like 5 minutes of screen time from Jared and/or Misha. Jensen’s Soldier Boy isn’t even one of the main cast members, even either him being a regular this season, so I doubt there will be a lot of room to expand on a character for Jared (never mind Misha) and then interacting, on a show that’s on its final season and has many storylines to wrap up.

Anyway, in conclusion, only one member of J2M begged for a part in The Boys, and Kripke is using all of them to generate buzz. Simple as that.

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Vampire Daddy Steve/Baby Bucky Word Count: 4.9K Tags: Established Relationship, Daddy Kink, Light Dom/Sub, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Age Difference (lol), Human/Vampire Relationship, Vampire Sex, Vampire Bites, Public Sex, Orgy, Size Kink, Praise Kink, Blowjob, Public Blowjob, Consensual Somnophilia Subspace, Anal Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Angst and Romance, PDA, Drinking, Porn with Feelings A/N: It got weepy at the end! I couldn’t help it! Song Inspo 😭

Read here on Ao3

Bucky is once again grateful for the size of Steve. 

Normally Bucky is grateful for the size of Steve’s cock, but tonight he is grateful for the size of his presence. 

People are barely bothering to come over to where they’re seated on a luxurious, deep red loveseat, surrounded by people Bucky has slowly been introduced to. The low lighting and the bass of the music makes the purposeful distance difficult to pick up on, but it’s there, the undercurrents of formalities Bucky is unaware of, signs of respect people are showing Steve as they walk by and enjoy the party themselves. 

As uncomfortable as Bucky has been since they arrived half an hour ago, Steve’s presence in this room has made him feel less anxious. It’s obvious Steve is important to these people with the way they duck their heads in greeting, with the bubble of space they show Steve. 

The closeness and affection Steve has been pouring over him helps ease Bucky’s anxieties as well, which is something he’d normally be more reserved about, especially when they’re surrounded by people on all sides. 

Bucky suspects it’s because they’re surrounded by his kind. 

He isn’t sure how many humans are amongst the crowd. 

As Bucky takes his time looking throughout the group of people, in each corner of the room, the last of his anxieties twist into something regrettably familiar. 

“You’re sure I’m not…underdressed?” he mumbles into Steve’s neck knowing he will easily be able to hear his concern over the noise of the crowd. He isn’t sure if it’s because they’re amongst the unliving, with their ethereal grace and otherworldly beauty, but surely not all of these people are in fact vampires. 

Living or not though, everyone looks wildly glamorous. Clothes or not, something Bucky was not ready for even if he was given a heads up, everyone looks wildly glamorous. So much so, they’re all almost difficult to look at.

Bucky glances down at his dark jeans, maroon sweater, and worn boots with a critical eye. 

He then looks over at Steve’s dress pants and polo, his sparkling dress shoes that Bucky is certain cost at least three digits, maybe four. 

“You didn’t believe me the first three times I answered this question?” Steve murmurs into his ear, squeezing Bucky’s thigh possessively and reassuringly. Bucky doesn’t bother looking up at Steve; his blush already begins to grow without his chiding eyes and he’s sure Steve can sense it.

“I told you,” Steve begins again, tone gentle and pace unrushed. “You're the most gorgeous, most naturally flawless person I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Steve.” 

“Sweetheart.” 

“I’m almost certain you’ve been alive for centuries.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth curls up as he feels Steve’s hand land on the nape of his neck, cool to the touch and grounding. 

“Therefore the flattery should outweigh your feeling of inadequacy.” 

When Steve pulls at the curls at Bucky’s nape, a silent demand to see his eyes, Bucky moves easily. 

His heart kicks up into his throat when he’s met with the expression on Steve’s face, dark and so obviously wanting. The thrill he feels from being under such an intense gaze is not misinterpreted for fear on Steve’s part, especially not when he can smell Bucky’s arousal on him. 

As if it weren’t obvious in his eyes. 

It’s as if the crowd around them momentarily melts away, the overwhelming noise of the room, the flashing lights diminishing as well. And then it’s just them, the two of them sharing a connection Steve has told him is without equal. This is how it always is, how it’s been from the moment they locked eyes for the first time across the bar, this bond that Bucky feels deep, deep in his soul. 

It makes him equal parts emotional and hard. 

Steve’s eyes glitter like the night sky in this lighting, and Bucky swears the wine he’s been given makes him feel as if he’s falling into them. 

You know you’re the only one for me, he hears Steve tell him, feels the stroke of unsaid words along the skin of his neck. 

He bites back the thick swell of emotion in his throat by swallowing, but not by averting his eyes. Never averting his eyes. Steve squeezes at his nape again, a long pull of his thick fingers at Bucky’s skin. He knows for a fact Steve draws it out so he can feel Bucky’s pulse underneath his fingertips. 

Bucky’s emotions suddenly shift directions and he thinks he might start panting. 

Movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention and anything, anything else, would keep his attention on Steve. But such a sight rocks Bucky to his core, the shock of it making him go rigid. 

Someone’s being fed on. 

A woman is being so openly and so willingly fed on, here in front of everyone, almost casually amongst this crowd.

Bucky thought the various people fucking in darkened corners was enough to stun him, but this…this is different.

Steve senses the change in Bucky’s demeanor immediately, his head turning to see where his eyes are locked onto. When he looks back at Bucky and Bucky glances up to meet his look, his eyes are impossibly darker. 

“I’m surprised they’re just now starting,” is all Steve says, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a luxurious sip of his scotch. 

But Bucky can’t look away. He’s enthralled. 

A woman lays sprawled across a man’s lap, her back pressed against the man’s thighs, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Bucky can’t see the man’s face from where he’s bent over her lax form, but he can see this man’s bite, his teeth, sunk into her neck. 

Her eyes are barely open, rolled back into her skull, her mouth dropped open as well. Bucky swears he can hear her noise of pleasure from here, deep and drawn-out. 

When he sees the man’s hand move underneath her latex skirt, when he sees his fingers pump between her legs as he drinks from her, Bucky forces himself to look away and give them privacy. 

He’s never seen anything more erotic in his life, he think. 

He realizes quite quickly that he’s never seen anyone be fed on by a vampire. 

Including himself. 

Is that what he looks like when Steve feeds on him? 

Bucky is nearly jealous of the woman for experiencing such an abundance of pleasure. But that thought then immediately forces Bucky to think about the pleasure he goes through when Steve sinks his teeth into his skin, when he feeds from Bucky, when he– 

“If you get any more aroused from watching them enjoy themselves,” Steve suddenly purrs into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as he speaks. “We’re going to have to join them and make our own display.”

Bucky can barely acknowledge Steve’s threat, eyes skirting back to said display. 

The man’s mouth is on the woman’s breasts now, having pulled the ample pair out of her low-cut shirt to feed on instead. 

His hand still moves between her legs. 

A few people have gathered to unabashedly watch. 

“Is…is that what I look like?” is all Bucky can think to say as he feels himself get harder and harder in his jeans. 

“No,” Steve is quick to answer, fingers curling around the opposite side of Bucky’s jaw to pull his gaze upwards at him. “You look much, much more erotic.” 

Bucky doesn’t believe him, can’t, even being on the receiving end of such a sincere and heated gaze. There’s no way he looks sexier than that woman does. He looks better than her?

Steve gives Bucky an answer as if he can hear inside of his head. 

“Why do you think I have to fuck you every time I bite you?” 

This time when Bucky swallows, a whimper slips past his lips. 

Steve catches it on his own. 

“It is unbearable sometimes, how completely debauched you look when your blood hits my tongue. How utterly mindless for pleasure you become. Your eyes glaze over, I always have to hold you down somehow because you writhe for it. Your cheeks grow flush, your prick leaks like a faucet. You always beg me to fill you up, to break your hole, even from the tiniest bite.”

Bucky’s face goes up in flames, the crotch of his pants filling out.

“That’s why we are the way we are now, because you pleaded for it so hard the first time I bit you. You whined and begged Daddy for more.” 

He’s right. The night Steve disclosed what he was to Bucky in hopes that he’d be afraid and run away was also the night he bit Bucky for the first time. In the doorway of Bucky’s apartment, Steve growling so deeply into his bite Bucky felt it in his toes, Bucky all but screamed out for his new Daddy. 

He barely remembered doing it, but he wasn’t at all upset at the outcome. 

Bucky feels the weight of submission settle onto his shoulders, the arousal he feels swirling and mixing with it in his head as well. 

His next few blinks are slow as he looks down at Steve’s mouth, not bothering to glance back up at his eyes.  

His Daddy’s lips are on his the next second. Cool to the touch but molten as they work and move together fluidly, Steve works his mouth against Bucky’s like he owns it, like he wants everyone to see that he owns Bucky. Coaxing Bucky’s mouth further and further open, moving to take a long suck at Bucky’s tongue before allowing for Bucky to follow suit, their sighs sounding more like gluttonous moans.

By the time Steve pulls his lips back by half an inch to allow for Bucky to catch his breath, his mind is made up. 

“Bite me,” he husks into Steve’s mouth, the older man immediately smirking and breaking their contact to look back across the room. 

When he doesn’t answer, Bucky moves to suck on the bearded hinge of his jaw. 

“Just a little. Gimme a little bite, Daddy. I’ve been so good, so brave.” 

As discreetly as one can while amongst the throngs of partygoers, he reaches for the obscene bulge between Steve’s legs, presses his hand over it. 

Steve barely reacts. 

Bucky finds it blindingly hot. 

“And you had to ask if you were hotter than that,” Steve chides in a gravelly tone, pointing back across the room. “Look at you– you’re wet for just the thought of it, my love.” 

Bucky barely bothers to glance back across the room, but is still shocked to find the vampire fucking the woman he had drank from on all fours across the couch she is bent over, their knees on the floor. She barely moves as he fucks into her brutally, her body nearly limp, but Bucky can hear her noises now, can hear how loud and ragged they are. 

Noises that indicate just how much she’s enjoying the treatment she’s being given. 

Bucky squeezes at Steve’s cock through his dress pants, eagerly turning back to him. 

“Do it. Please,” is all he can think to whine, voice breathy and needy. Steve pins him with another intense and serious gaze, fingers curling into his scalp once more. 

Bucky feels like prey. 

What a familiar and fond feeling it’s become. 

“It’s going to be more intense for you. You’ve been drinking and your mind is already there. You’ll likely drop.” 

Bucky suddenly wants to drop. 

“Daddy…” 

“I’ll take care of you– you know I do,” he promises Bucky, voice so hushed Bucky wonders if he’s imagined it. 

“You want people to see? You want them to see what we do to each other?” 

Bucky moans. 

“Let people see,” he murmurs against Steve’s mouth, blood turning molten, dick aching in his pants. “I trust you.”  

He swears Steve growls. 

His face is in the crook of Bucky’s neck the next second. Bucky grabs onto whatever part of Steve he can manage to, fingers slipping under his shirt to his muscled back. He goes limp the moment Steve presses his canines into his neck, a warning, just like he’s been taught. 

“You’re so goddamn perfect,” is all Steve says before he’s latching onto the tender skin of Bucky’s neck and pressing– 

Bucky feels blinding and familiar pleasure shoot through his limbs. 

And then everything goes black. 

When Bucky comes to, he’s in Steve’s lap. 

His thighs are spread around Steve’s waist, his bare torso pressed tightly against Steve’s own clothed one, his face tucked into the crook of Steve’s neck. 

His shirt is off. Did he take it off? 

When did he take his shirt off? 

People surround him on all sides from where they sit on this couch, so close he can almost feel them on his skin, the heat of them, their presence. He senses the music reverberate throughout his body before he hears it, it almost sounding as if he’s underwater. 

Steve feels so good against his body, against his skin. He moans, open-mouthed, and presses in impossibly tighter.

Steve’s cool hands skim up his sensitive back, stopping to curl his fingers around the nape of his neck. 

He can feel Steve talking, the vibration of his voice moving against Bucky’s bare chest, but once again it’s hard for him to discern words. He feels drowsy as he pulls his head back just enough to place his lips at Steve’s ear. 

He bites at it. 

Steve’s grip on his nape goes tight. 

“Daddy,” is all he moans, his head swirling with an onslaught of sensations and sounds and feelings. 

He feels Steve’s lips at his own ear. 

“Darling. Your skin is impossibly warm. How are you feeling?” 

Bucky doesn’t answer; Steve would know if something was wrong. Instead he sucks on the hinge of Steve’s jaw and pumps his hips against– 

“Ohh…” 

He can feel Steve’s smirk grow on the skin of his cheek. 

“My my…look at you,” Steve purrs, one of his big hands skirting down to cup Bucky’s ass. “Well, others sure are taking the opportunity to get an eyeful of you, aren’t they?” 

Are they? 

Bucky lets Steve’s words process long enough for him to decide he doesn’t give a shit. 

Let people see him like this. 

It’s all for Daddy anyway. 

Daddy. 

He must say it out loud because Steve is rumbling in an instant, pulling Bucky against him by the handful of ass he has in his palm. And Bucky begins to move like water against his much larger, much cooler form, like the push and pull of waves, as if he were fucking himself in Steve’s lap. 

Tears form in his eyes, he’s so overcome with his sudden and all-consuming need to do just that. 

He barely manages to slide down to his knees, mouth already watering, moving as if he’s wading through molasses. His fingers find their way to Steve’s slacks, the zipper of them, curling around the impressive bulge they find there. When he feels Steve’s cock against the palm of his hand, he drops forward with a moan, mouth falling open as he sucks on the fabric of Steve’s dress pants, on his cock through them. 

Steve doesn’t stop him, doesn’t pull him up off what is surely a dirty floor beneath him. He doesn’t reach for Bucky in the slightest, doesn’t move from where his back is pressed against the back of the couch, thighs spread wide. Bucky’s own dick leaks just looking up at him. The confidence and power Steve exudes is heady, keeps the fog swirling around the inside of his head. 

That’s his Daddy. 

This is his cock. 

Steve allowing Bucky the privilege to suck him off in front of onlookers, the immense trust burning between them, forces a guttural groan from Bucky’s mouth. 

He turns and digs his teeth into the meat of Steve’s thigh. 

Steve doesn’t even blink. 

He reaches for Bucky’s chin. 

“Don’t make me come,” is all Bucky hears, voice intimate for the two of them alone. “Because where does that go, huh? Where does my cum always go?” 

Bucky’s eyes fight to roll back into his head. He leans forward for the purpose of finding something to rub his dick against, his chin still in Steve’s grip. 

“My pussy,” is what Bucky slurs, his dick finding contact with Steve’s shin. “Your cum goes…in my pussy.” 

When Steve’s thumb finds its way between Bucky’s lip, he bites down onto it. 

Hard. 

Steve smiles. 

“That’s right. You have at it, sweetheart. Get your fix.” 

What’s left of the room, the party, the crowd that reaches past the fog in Bucky’s brain dissipates in full the moment Steve’s cock is on his tongue. 

Bucky moans around his mouthful once he has Steve out of his pants, eyes nearly crossing with appreciation of the girth of his Daddy’s cock. The way it fills Bucky’s mouth to the brim, the way he could gag around it if he took a deep breath with it in his mouth, makes him whimper appreciatively around it. Daddy likes it wet, this Bucky’s been taught over time, so when he pulls his mouth off of Steve’s cock with a lewd noise, he purses his lips and spits on it. 

He thinks he hears someone to his left gasp. 

But he only sees Steve, leaned back into the couch, eyes darker than sin and intense, zeroed in on Bucky between his legs. 

Cupping Steve’s impressive sac, knowing Daddy also thoroughly enjoys feeling the warmth of Bucky’s hands on his balls, Bucky slides his mouth back over the tip of Steve’s cock. He slides Steve to the back of his throat, swallowing around him before pulling back and pressing forward once more. Slowly, he lets the slip of Steve along his tongue, in and out of his mouth, hypnotize him. 

And after a few minutes, he’s so lost in fucking Steve’s cock with his mouth, he barely notices Steve reaching for the hand he isn’t using to hold onto his Daddy. 

When he feels Steve’s mouth at his wrist, the sudden prick of his teeth, his moan is garbled and wet around his mouthful. 

He feels Steve moan raggedly against his skin. 

And then everything goes blissfully black for the second time. 

When Bucky comes to once more, he is able to notice two things right away, the first being their change in location. 

The second change being Steve is now inside of him. 

This corner is much more secluded, pulled away from the party and darker, the flashing lights unable to reach back this far. They’re still on a couch, but this time they’re alone. Bucky isn’t surprised by this; Steve likes to show Bucky off but there comes a point where he doesn’t want others to see just how far their connection goes. 

He’s grateful for the privacy, but he’s more aroused by Steve’s possessive antics. 

He groans into Steve’s neck, clenching his hole down around the girth he was just appreciating in his mouth. His head isn’t necessarily spinning, but he doesn’t feel entirely present. It’s a very specific feeling that only belongs to when Steve drinks from him and it’s one that Bucky yearns to feel most days. 

He can barely lift his head, use his arms against Steve’s chest to push himself back. 

Steve must have taken more this time. 

It’s then the dots connect for Bucky and he realizes his pants have come off too now. 

Right. Steve is inside of him. 

Steve is inside of him. 

This time when he moans, he can feel the noise grate against the front of his throat. He digs his own teeth into Steve’s neck when he feels Steve’s big, cold hands run up the sensitive skin of his back, strong sweeps of a touch. 

He clenches his hole around Steve again, milking his Daddy and appreciating his dominance and strength and care. He’s wet down there, this Bucky can feel, and the thought of Steve taking care of Bucky in such a way while he had dropped adds an alarming amount of eroticism to this already heady moment. 

No one else is more fit to be his Daddy than Steve. 

No one will ever come close to Steve. 

Don’t. 

He digs the fingers of both hands into the skin of Steve’s throat, cupping it harshly, his arms pressed between their chests. He rocks his hips forward, tests the feel of Steve’s cock inside of him, whines appreciatively when he’s met with only unadulterated pleasure. 

“There’s my boy,” Steve bites out into his ear, hands grabbing and squeezing as they make their way back down to Bucky’s ass, sweeping up and down his back and shoulders. “There he is.” 

“Daddy,” Bucky tries, but even the one word sounds garbled, slurred. Steve doesn’t seem to mind, seems to quite like the reaction given how harsh his grip becomes on Bucky’s ass. When his fingers reach for Bucky’s rim, when they rub at his stretched hole all wet around Steve’s cock, it spurs Bucky’s mess of movements on. 

He arches his back further, allowing for them both to feel the strain of his pussy around Daddy’s cock, trying his best to begin bouncing on it. 

“You’re a goddamn marvel. You know that?” Steve whispers into his ear, pressing the words into his skin as he uses his handfuls of Bucky’s ass to guide him, to encourage his shallow bouncing. “You know how many people I had to fight off to not follow us back here? How much security was needed to help find us a dark corner I could fuck you in? Huh?” 

Bucky mewls, whimpering as he quickly finds it more and more difficult to bounce on his Daddy’s cock, what little energy he has left nearly drained in full. 

When Steve smacks at his ass, a noise that can no doubt be heard over the outrageously loud music, Bucky whines again. 

And when Steve easily scoots them back, maneuvers them to a more horizontal position on the couch, Bucky’s whines turn into moans. He knows what this means. 

He nods his head, his brain feeling like a bundle of loose marbles as he begs for cock. 

“Yes, Daddy please, please. I can’t…please, Daddy. Give it to me, Daddy…” 

Steve has no problem holding Bucky’s limp body up enough to fuck into him from below, has no problem holding him up enough to use him as a toy. Bucky merely lays there against the slope of Steve’s chest as Daddy begins to fuck up into him, useless and willing. He doesn’t fight his eyes when they begin to roll back into his head. 

“They were fucking fighting one another to get a look at you full of cock, to see your Daddy stuff your pussy full after you spent a drop with your mouth full of it.” 

Bucky’s moans sound more and more ragged, more pathetic, the more Daddy uses his pussy. His dick is trapped between their bodies, Bucky’s naked one and Steve’s still clothed one, and he Bucky thinks he’ll come embarrassingly fast if it continues to receive the friction it currently is. 

“One would think this party is for you, that all of these people have gathered here to watch the show you put on with awe. So many people want you, Bucky. So many people want to fuck your little body, want to mark you up, want you for themselves.” 

Bucky shakes his head, eyes filling with tears. He’s surprised by them, by the sudden emotion he’s feeling, but he isn’t sure if it’s the way his Daddy is making his body feel or if it’s from his words. 

It’s surely both. 

“Daddy…” 

“That’s exactly right,” Steve growls, digging his cock into Bucky’s sweet spot masterfully, spreading his ass cheeks as if people were in fact watching. “Tell them. Tell them this is all for me, that no one else can have you. Tell them this is all for your Daddy.” 

Bucky squeals, digging his teeth into the skin of Steve’s collarbone, sucking on it messily and Steve splits him open. 

“No one,” he mumbles. “No one else can have me. I’m…m’yours. I’m Daddy’s.” 

Those words make the emotion he feels swell in his chest. 

His breath hitches in his throat. 

Oh no. 

He can’t stop himself. 

“I’ll always be yours, Daddy. Always. F-forever.” 

Steve’s bucking hips rub Bucky’s dick just right between their bodies, just right against his dress shirt. His balls suddenly draw up tight, painfully tight, against his body, Steve’s cock brushing against his sweet spot once more. 

He doesn’t give Steve a warning, but he doesn’t have to. 

Steve knows. 

He drops Bucky back down onto his lap in full just in time for his orgasm to rocket through him, for it to shatter his resolve and his weak body, stretching his hole out to the point of the bite of pain Bucky craves. He clings to Steve as he sobs and shakes against him, clings to him as he comes apart all around him, all over him. The pleasure this climax pulls from him is otherworldly, is mind numbing. He thrashes against it, as if it’s almost too much, but Steve is there to hold him down, to make him take it. 

Quite literally. 

“Milk it out of me,” he groans wildly into Bucky’s neck. “Start milking it out of me, sweetheart. You know what that does to me, you know what you vowing yourself does to me. Goddamnit, you know what that does to me.” 

He does. The two of them rarely profess their love for one another so deeply and to the point where they mourn the lives they’re living, both together and separately. They rarely discuss the fact that Bucky continues to age, day after day, while Steve has remained the same age for decades, centuries. They don’t talk about how the pressure of keeping time on his body keeps Bucky awake at night as he tries again and again to figure out how to ask Steve to let him stay with his Daddy  forever. 

What they have now is bliss, is magic, is meaningful. 

But Bucky wants forever. 

He wants forever. 

His body listens to his Daddy, does as he asks like always, but he doesn’t help Steve to his climax without tears. 

He tells himself it’s maybe the wine, definitely the plethora of bites he’s received tonight, but there’s no use; he knows exactly why he’s sobbing into Steve’s neck. 

It must be the amount of blood Steve’s drank coupled with the scotch and maybe the headiness of the evening that have him digging his teeth into Bucky’s neck as he rides his orgasm out. No fangs, not the sharpness Buckuy craves, but it’s enough to shock him. He’s never been bitten by Steve this hard. 

When he goes to pull away, Steve growls into his skin and holds him in place by a hand on his nape. 

Bucky openly weeps, growing dizzy. 

“I know what you want,” Steve tells him, husks out into his ear when he’s finally pulled back, voice heavy with emotion. “I know what you want from me, what you’re too afraid to ask for. And I swear to you, Bucky, I swear to you I’ll give it to you one day.” 

Bucky can only sob out one word, the throb in his neck pulsing– 

“Daddy…” 

“We both want it, we do. Not once have I come across someone in my life who I wanted to join me on this side, in this world. You are the one I’ve waited for. You are the one who’s brought purpose into my wretched life. You are the one for me and I’ll be damned if I let anyone else have you, Bucky Barnes. I want to be selfish with you. You are mine and you will remain so forever.” 

Oh. 

Oh yes. 

Relief Bucky has never felt lifts from his shoulders, his mind, his being. The noises he lets out are mournful almost. Mournful for the time he’s spent worrying about the outcome of their relationship, the purpose of it, of one day losing Steve. It was for nothing. 

It was all for blessedly nothing.

When Steve pulls at his nape, pulls his head up in order to lick into his mouth, he yields to Steve willingly, easily. 

“If you think I’m turning you in this grungy warehouse with even a single onlooker, you’re mad.” 

Bucky laughs wetly into where his mouth lands on Steve’s bearded cheek, tears continuing to fall. 

“Take me home then. Take me home, Daddy,” he barely manages to murmur out. 

He swears Steve purrs. 

“With pleasure, my love.”

[acti-veg]

Hey, I see a lot of your posts recently, and I've been scrolling back through your blog looking for answers to various questions, this really the first time I've ever really questioned my beliefs in regards to animal products and I've had several pop up, firstly, what about hunting? Deer have a habit of eating themselves out of a habit if left unchecked, and even in areas where we've reintroduced wolves and bears, it doesn't seem to be enough and I've personally known people that for them, hunting was the only way to ensure food on the table. Also I feel like a lot of vegan arguments try to remove humans from the category of animals, and it seems to want to put us above death and ignores some human features, like our mouths which resemble other omnivores, how do I handle these questions?

Hey anon, I’m glad you’ve approached this with an open mind, far too few are willing to do so. I’ll break this down into sections as it may end up being a long one.

Hunting

Deer don’t eat themselves out of a habitat when they exist as part of a healthy ecosystem. When we do introduce natural predators to keep numbers down, we generally only grant permission for far lower numbers of predators than the carrying capacity of the ecosystem.

This is largely due to public discomfort at the re-inclusion of predators, but the real political pressure comes from two parties - hunters and ranchers. Hunters want deer numbers to be large so that they can hunt them, and ranchers want predator numbers to be low so that they don’t interfere with their profits.

Keep in mind that these ecosystems existed for hundreds of millions of years before the arrival of humans and the mass culling of predators and prey. In a healthy ecosystem, as deer populations increase they can support more predators, whose numbers grow. If the predators become too many, there is not enough food to go around, fewer predators survive and litter sizes decrease to compensate. The balance is righted and maintained by natural systems, it is only when humans interfere or reduce the land available for wild animals (largely to make room for grazing land) that this becomes a problem.

There are vanishingly few people living in industrialised society who rely on hunting as a food source. For subsistence hunting communities, such as some indigenous groups and remote coastal communities, fishing and hunting may well be necessary for survival - I don’t know many vegans who have any problem with that.

Veganism is about doing what is possible and practicable to avoid animal exploitation, if it is genuinely not possible for you to survive on plants then that is very much covered within that definition. For people who recreationally hunt though, hunting licences cost money, weapons and ammunition cost money - for most people, the calories they could gain from cheap plant-based staples would be far cheaper than those they could gain from hunting.

Humans as Above Death

Honestly, I see this argument come from non-vegans far more often than vegans. Vegans are vegan precisely because we don’t believe we a separate to, or superior to, non-human animals. However, the idea that we’re in the same food chain and we’re just like non-human animals is a fantasy that hasn’t been true for 50,000 years.

The agricultural revolution removed us from natural ecosystems, and the Industrial Revolution that followed it removed us even further. It is hard to imagine being further removed from death than to buy the corpse of an artificially created species that was selectively bred, drugged and raised in industrial conditions, who you have not only not hunted but never even seen, wrapped in plastic by a large corporation.

Veganism has nothing to do with denying death or ignoring human features. Humans are omnivores, sure, but that is just an arbitrary species categorisation. It means we can subsist on both plant and animal matter Does the fact that we have canine teeth create a moral justification for causing harm to other animals, on the basis that the blind and amoral process of evolution gave them to us? Surely not.

Conclusions

Vegans know that we aren’t above death and we aren’t separate or above other animals. Humans are highly intelligent and technologically advanced apes, but we’re still apes. We seem to only want to acknowledge this fact when it suits us though, when we want to hunt or eat other animals. But we’re not hunter gatherers, we’re consumers who shoot animals with guns or buy their flash pre-slaughtered and pre-packaged.

However, that same technology and economy have now given us the option to choose to cause less harm. We know beyond any reasonable doubt that most humans can now be perfectly happy and healthy while never purposely harming any animal ever again. We can choose to not only survive, but thrive while minimising the impact we have on animals and the planet we share with them. So why wouldn’t we do that?

[free-luigi-mangione]

Any theories as to why that hostel video has been deleted? Kinda sus how it was just randomly posted, gained lots of views then suddenly it's gone... Also I'm curious to know if LM legal team is aware of the video.

i feel like it's important to remember that the video was posted eight days before the public got its eyes on the video, eight days before yesterday was exactly a day before his SDNY pretrial hearing where he wore green and had hundreds of people supporting him at the courthouse

but unfortunately for whoever posted nobody was looking for or watching the video, this was clearly not the intended effect

so about a week after uploading the video, when it became clear it wasn't causing the waves it was supposed to, somebody on reddit was tipped off about the video (now i know somebody who watched the video could have tipped them off but like what are the chances of that happening with how we know how youtube functions???)

coincidentally this happened at the heels of TD submitting motions for suppression of evidence because he wasn't mirandaized before getting arrested/frisked/questioned

and people lost their shit upon watching the video, which imo is incredibly dumb because we already knew he was in altoona and we already knew he'd been trying to get a room at a local hotel/motel, like surely he didn't teleport out of nowhere when he was arrested at the mcdonald's right??? he had indeed been there and if we take the hashbrown letter to be real, he's not pretending to not be there because well, he actually was there

but the tone of the video implied whatever is the exact opposite of the presumption of innocence, it also said he was disguised when inquiring at the motel but like i dress exactly like that during winter???? hoodie (with beanie if it's too cold), mufflers, and i also wear masks whenever i'm out??? i never really stopped wearing masks??? and i also carry and use hand sanitizers almost every time i touch things like doors??? i would also behave like he was doing in that video because i'm just not very good at interacting with people i don't already know, it might imply nervousness to the layperson and it isn't at all, not everybody is getting grade A's at talking to shopkeepers/hotel owners like my mom

also he doesn't appear cagey at all???? and he's looking at his watch and looking outside and contemplating what to do, not because of any other reason except that it was too damn cold and it was raining and he was soaked and it was early in the morning and he just wanted food??? he just didn't want to get out in the rain and win the award for being the most famous sad wet cat in history at that moment. and honestly that's an extremely normal reaction to the situation

also the hotel clerk was telling him when rooms would be free to let and he was trying gauge how much time he'd need to kill to get back

people who're painting his behaviour as sketchy or going it's so over genuinely don't have a clue on how people around them act in similar situations (because clearly they don't behave like that or else they'd understand what's happening)

so what with people's reactions to the video and the media leaking things randomly out of nowhere (see supposed notebook being called manifesto) and the fact that it was posted before the hearing and became viral after the submission of the motion, it was clearly a smear campaign and i'm sad to say that it worked on a lot of people

a vast number of older people immediately started armchair diagnosing him and calling him whatever they wanted because it was somehow against their image of america's darlingest boy and i don't know why or how but the hashbrown joke also didn't go over well with them (i found it funny tho??? gen z regularly makes jokes like that and i do too???)

so yeah the video did whatever it was intended to do when it was supposedly leaked and i was wondering whether his legal team knows about it because public perception is very important for his case particularly, somebody commented and reminded me that even if they didn't know already before they surely do now because everybody is talking about it, i sure hope nothing major comes out of a video that really means nothing

[cipheramnesia]

"Luigi Mangione was framed" is such a gentle and calming phrase to me, it doesn't need anything after it. Sure and likely enough, with the NYCPD alone, sure, sure. And with no trial and no conviction and no real reason to argue, yes, it's right and fair to say it. Luigi Mangione was framed.

You know they're gonna kill him anyway.

[strechanadi]

An interview with Heloïse Bourdon and Mathieu Ganio on all things Mayerling.

[aeolianblues]

I'm not an extrovert. At all. In everyday life, I'm a yapper, sure, but I need someone to first assure me I am okay to yap, so I don't start conversations, even when I really want to join in sometimes! It's just the social anxiety acting up. God knows where from and why I lose a lot of my inhibitions when it comes to talking to people about music. I don't know where the confidence has suddenly sprung from. I've made a crazy amount of friends in musical circles, either just talking to people about common music or (since it is after all in music circles) talking to bands about their own music. I let out a sigh of relief any time an interaction goes well, because in truth it's going against my every instinct. I wish I could do that in everyday life

[qvietspvce]

long post under the cut. i'm writing out a somewhat redacted transcript of the utter BULLSHIT i put up with yesterday

warnings for transphobia, transphobia EVERYWHERE. also, i show my arse here. i'm not a perfect person and my temper got the better of me in a BIG way.

messages in a group chat between sister, mum and me.

[screenshot of a facebook post, posted by [sister]. tagged [deadname]. post reads: I will always cherish these memories of my twin sister and I. Losing my twin sister was the worst pain imaginable, and I'm still very much grieving this. I'm working hard to rebuild a brand new relationship with a brand new person [blue love heart emoji]]

Me (7.16pm): what the fuck is this?

Me (7.19pm): I haven't died. I am still very much alive. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say you were "working hard to rebuild a brand new relationship with a brand new person" and out me to people as transgender without my permission. It shows a flagrant disregard to my privacy and safety.

Me (7.23pm): I am deeply hurt that you are sharing memories from a facebook account I no longer have access to. I'm just completely shocked that you would think this is a kind and fair thing to do to me. Take it down.

Me (7.23pm): Now.

--

Sister (9.02pm): Wtf is wrong with you

Sister (9.05pm): I've not said you've died, I've said I'll always cherish there's (sic) memories. [Deadname] is gone and is never coming back, don't be so selfish and put yourself in someone else's shoes for a change. Out you as transgender? I've not tagged Parker anywhere. You've changed yourself as male legally and have been someone else for years - it's public information

Sister (9.07pm): Look, you have all the time in the world to sit there and argue and be a snowflake

Sister (9.08pm): Fuck off, I want nothing to do with you - you completely selfish cunt

Sister (9.08pm): I just want MY [DEADNAME] back

Me (9.09pm): Are you aware that people are reacting to that post as if I have died? Interesting that you call it selfish to want a modicum of privacy and respect from you. How dare you. How very dare you. I'm aware you haven't tagged me as Parker. I'm aware that for whatever reason you refuse to see me as Parker. You'd rather make up a fuss over [Deadname] than respect me as I am and lash out when you're called out on poor behaviour. I, my personality, hasn't changed. I am still who I have always been except I now use a name, pronouns and body I am comfortable in.

Sister (9.09pm): You have changed

Sister (9.09pm): I'm allowed to grieve

Me (9.10pm): I AM STILL ALIVE

Sister (9.10pm): [Deadname] isn't

Sister (9.10pm): Doesn't exist anymore

Sister (9.11pm): I'm not "[sister's name] the youngest of 5 girls"

Me (9.11pm): YOU NEVER FUCKING WERE

Me (9.11pm): I just didn't have the language to say it!

Sister (9.11pm): It's no longer "I have a twin" "boy or girl"

Sister (9.12pm): You did for 26 years

Me (9.12pm): Are you kidding me? Is this a joke?

Sister (9.12pm): I'm allowed to grieve. I've supported you best I can why don't you try and do the same

Sister (9.13pm): I've had a rough fucking time

Sister (9.13pm): And I'm always there for you when I (sic) need me

Me (9.13pm): You made your fucking bed, now lay in it.

Sister (9.13pm): Just try to be understanding and not offensive

Me (9.13pm): Are you?

Sister (9.13pm): Okay we're done

Me (9.13pm): Are you there for me?

Sister (9.13pm): When you need money?

Sister (9.13pm): Calling you brother

Sister (9.14pm): Me and [ex-boyfriend] have split up and I'm struggling. [Deadname] would've been nice

Sister (9.14pm): You're being a twat

Sister (9.15pm): You spend too much time on the internet

Sister (9.15pm): I don't have time to waste on this

Sister (9.15pm): Dead to me

Me (9.15pm): You don't call me your brother unless you want something. I asked you to help me with Mango in an emergency that was never needed. You ask me to look after your dog when you're getting too drunk you don't even know how you got home. You broke up with [ex-boyfriend] because you couldn't cope with the guilt of emotionally cheating on him. That's on you, not me.

Sister (9.16pm): Not completely accurate

Sister (9.17pm): You're dead to me

Sister (9.18pm): Hope mum is kind enough to keep funding your mentally ill "lifestyle"

--

Sister (9.54pm): You outer (sic) yourself as transgender on my page [5 laughing emojis]

Sister (9.54pm): And turned the blame to me

Sister (9.54pm): Brilliant

Mum (9.56pm): GO WALK

--

Sister (10.04pm): [Person] sent you a screenshot of my Facebook, you accepted my friend request 2 hours ago which I sent to you months if not a year ago just to have a go at me

Sister (10.04pm): And then has been gossiping about me inaccurately

--

Me (10.25pm): I'm only going to say this once. It wasn't [Person] who sent me a screenshot and there's absolutely no way I'm going to tell you who it is. As you happily informed me, it's public information.

Sister (10.26pm): 1) absolute bullshit

Sister (10.26pm): It's her background on the screenshot

Me (10.29pm): So the reason you're angry at [Person] is because the person who sent me the screenshot uses Dark Mode...which is a function that all modern smartphones can use... Okay. I'm not going to have this conversation with you because you sound unwell. Get better, [sister].

Sister (10.30pm): I'm grieving the loss of my twin sister and I'm grieving the end of a relationship. Other than that I'm fine. I've not taken a single day off work, I run a home and business, I eat clean, train, pay my way and contribute to society

Sister (10.31pm): You're the one with every mental illness going

Sister (10.31pm): You are dead to me

Sister (10.31pm): You are done

Sister (10.32pm): I loved [Deadname] more than anything and I will cherish and share my memories

Sister (10.32pm): I hate Parker

-- --- ---- ----- ---- --- -- messages in a private chat between sister and me (note the timestamps!)

Sister (11.36pm): Goodbye

Sister (11.36pm): I've said goodbye to [Deadname] she's gone and never coming back

Sister (11.36pm): Now I'm saying goodbye to you

Sister (11.36pm): Don't every (sic) contact me again

Sister (11.36pm): Ever *

[datastate]

i don't mean this to brag or anything silly like that bc. that is weird to do! but i seriously do think at this point i've thought more abt the intricacies of asunaro than anyone else - barring nankidai, of course, but even so... that's primarily a matter of how long yttd existed in his head. whereas i was only introduced to it abt 3 years ago... otherwise. well. hey mister nankidai would you like to collaborate. hey,

[vmures]

Highly recommend reading this essay about grappling with art and the creator's bad acts/monsterousness:

I've struggled to put much of this into words myself. It's a hard thing to grapple with and I think the point being made in the article is incredibly valuable. When we work so hard to claim we only take in unharmful art, we willingly blind ourselves to the truth that we too are capable of great harm, which in turn can perpetuate abusive systems. It can create this mindset: If I am not capable of harming others, because I am a righteous and "good" person, then any harm caused must have been the fault of someone else. You are essentially gaslighting yourself, which leads to gaslighting others.

If you asked my mother, she would tell you that she was a great mother. She gave up so much for her kids and sacrificed all her own wants and needs. She'd tell you that I was a fragile, overly emotional child. That I was difficult and over imaginative. She'd express confusion about how I went from the perfect, quiet baby to the angry, depressed teen, to an adult who no longer spoke with her.

She'd never mention the thrown objects, the rages, the climbing into my bed (not just to comfort me after a nightmare), the belittling, the emotional manipulation, the times she told me I must be mistaken and played off my observations as imagination (gaslighting me), the constantly changing expectations and rules. Because she was incapable (and probably still is incapable) of acknowledging that she herself had the capacity to do the same things her father did to her. In her head she was a victim and a good person, and she used those ideas to shield herself from her own monsterous behavior.

It is important to acknowledge that you can and will fuck up. That no one is purely good or purely evil. That we all contain the potential for both helpful and harmful acts and that if we are not mindful of others actual needs our helpful acts can be harmful.

When it comes to art, I do think it is important to not just shun, without thought or contemplation, art when we find out something awful about the creator. What we learn will change the way we see the art, but that goes from learning anything about the creator--good or bad.

[ishikawayukis]

the way this generation will go out of the way to blame someone who didn't consent to being filmed (either in public or not) for being upset about it, instead of thinking huh maybe we simply shouldn't invade people's privacies