#but i hate how flat fandom makes her

[ssaalexblake]

fjdjskhsidirba the insinuation that it was Kevin who treated Garcia like crap when she pulled some of that shit on him. That thing with the job she did, with the hacking that caused him to lose the opportunity bc she wanted him around? That was the second he should have run the hell away from Her for being a walking red flag. If a male character did that to a female one... Hoo boy. Can you imagine the uproar?

Why, why do fans of cm like to walk around acting like the ladies are the ones treating their love interests like crap when, odds are, they're being totally reasonable and the women are acting like they have the conflict resolution talents of fourteen year olds?

Garcia's talents for intimate relationships are non existent and it's actually quite a fun part of her character that the sunshine rainbow one whom is often portrayed as the loved one at home is actually just. Bad at treating people right. She's Not a flat character.

Anyway. Garcia stringing Kevin along for years without bothering to tell him she wasn't interested in anything long term was shitty 🤷 but not even close to the worst thing she did to the guy I guess, so there is that. But flip the genders here and Garcia would be utterly panned by fandom in that entire relationship and would deserve it.

Incidentally, she would also be panned in literally any of her 'romance' arcs 👀

[tackykachowch]

How it feels to not like timebomb after s2

[thefabulousfab-3]

I think I could take more pen antis seriously if half of them weren’t unhinged weirdos who insist on hating on Nicola coughlan for the crime of playing a character they don’t like.

[rando-lesbo210]

every time I look at Angel posts, there's a sharp increase of Jack posts on my fyp.

Jack is the last person I want to see when I'm admiring/missing Angel

[theshadowrealmitself]

It is. Horrid that they made all the girls’ outfits tight and sexualized and then made it canon that the girls actually had no say in their outfits looking like that. What the fuck.

[selamat-linting]

i should really hang out with more indo wrestling fans (they actually got other nia jax stans here)

[idolomantises]

I haven't drawn Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss redesigns since last year and the fandom still regularly tags me/picks fights with me over them. I did not think a couple drawings would live in people's heads so rent free.

Like you can go find my redesigns on twitter, they're still very public. I just label them as "Angel Dust redesign" or "Alastor redesign". The only time I think I explicitly called a design bad was when I said I found Beelzebub's design atrocious. Which it is. It's an overdesigned mess that doesn't convey the sin at all, I'm allowed to say I don't like it. And even still, when I posted the art, I still labeled it as "Beelzebub redesign".

I'm not going to forget when you fans regularly stalked my account and PATREON just to figure out when I would upload the redesigns. You think I forgot about when I posted my Angel Dust redesign which was just meant to improve my old design and you people harassed me for days? You accused me of "baiting" fans because you are so self-obsessed you think everything I do is explicitly to upset you. You people misgendered me, told me to kill myself, called me a fucking cockroach and flat out threatened to assault me multiple times. Sure I was harsh about my critiques, but I didn't resort to homophobic and transphobic comments like you people did with my Angel Dust redesign because for some unexplained reason you diehard fans who have been following this project for 10 years didn't know that he's meant to be a drag queen. When I did a quick redesign of Katie Killjoy on my personal tumblr, guess what? You people flipped the fuck out, AGAIN.

I can't even talk about my own religion without you sad, paranoid losers thinking I'm trashtalking hazbin hotel. You made up some rumor that I block all Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss fans (despite being mutuals/friends with people who are fans of the shows or actually work on them) just so you could justify harassing me even more. You told me for years that I should wait until the Hazbin series dropped to get my full thoughts out and when it did you people still freaked out and berated me.

Even when I talked about my situation after posting my Angel Dust redesign, instead of apologizing, fans claimed I planned this hostile reaction to begin with to make the fandom look bad. That I was "pulling a transphobia card" for sympathy. I didn't do shit. You people have gotten more aggressive about your hate towards me because people finally saw how incredibly inappropriate and vile you people act over a midtier cartoon written by someone who has so many allegations of bullying, transphobia, racism and workplace abuse that it's become harder and harder for you to deny, so you take out your unrepressed anger on me.

I know the only reason you people target me is because I'm a big artist who doesn't kiss Viv's ass. You want me to be a diehard fan of hers like every other big artist you people bully into worshipping Viv and her show and I won't do it. So you just obsessively stalk and monitor my account and accuse every little thing I do as a spiteful attack so you can justify your little harassment campaigns again. It's pathetic.

Seek help, find a hobby, stop obsessing over people who don't like the same thing as you. It's getting sad.

[maximumqueer]

Yamato, Transness, and "Passing"

Now that we're nearly a full arc removed from Wano and Yamato's introduction, I want to talk about the reaction that a subset of the one piece fandom had to his reveal as a trans man/transmasc person, the transphobia behind that reaction, and how the concept of passing plays into that reaction. I'm not going to be arguing that Yamato is a trans man, as I think it is very obvious that he is given how he is referred to in the canon text. This is instead going to be more of a fandom dissection of why (in my personal opinion) so many people refuse to acknowledge Yamato as a man.

When we are first introduced to Yamato, he is dressed in a way that gives him the appearance of a flat chest, and is wearing a mask to hide his face. He looks like a man in a cis-heteronormative way

When Yamato was depicted like this, he was (from what I can tell) mostly referred to with he/him pronouns by the fanbase. This is based on comments underneath his chapter debut and episode debut. There are comments under his episode debut that do use she/her pronouns and refer to him as a woman, but because these episodes have been out for a while, it would make sense that these kinds of comments would be left on his debut after his second design was revealed.

Then, when he removes his mask and outer layer of his outfit, he is depicted like this

After this reveal, more people began to refer to Yamato with she/her pronouns, and refer to him as Kaido's daughter, despite him referring to himself as Kaido's son, as well as the people around him using he/him pronouns exclusively for him. What changed? Well, Yamato went from having a design that looked traditionally masculine to having a more traditionally feminine one. As such people who associate only women with having breasts and more "feminine" features began to insist that Yamato was a tomboy, or a delusional woman, anything but accept that fact that he is a man.

There is a phenomena with trans "acceptance", where a character is accepted as trans only if they look like their gender according to the cis-heteronormative ideal, and questioned and denied if they don't. Kiku, a trans woman who "passes" as a woman did not receive nearly the same level of speculation and denial of her trans identity. (This is not to say that Kiku received no hate or transphobic comments, but that because she looks like a woman to the average cis-het viewer, she was treated as a "real" trans person, whereas Yamato was not).

Yamato has been repeatedly referred to as mentally ill for being a "non-passing" trans man. He has been called bad representation (despite large numbers trans men/transmasc people, myself included, saying that his IS good representation). People have made claims with no canon backing in an attempt to hand wave away his transness because he "looks like a woman", a popular one being that Kaido some how forced Yamato into being a man, despite his backstory telling us the exact opposite.

And the reasoning for all of this speculation is that trans people are held to such high standards in terms of appearance and presentation, even in fictional media. A trans man must have a flat chest, deep voice, facial hair etc. or he isn't actually trans. A trans woman must have breasts, a high voice, a lack of facial hair, etc. or she isn't actually trans. Non-binary people are dismissed entirely. This denies the many different and diverse ways that a person can be trans. Sure, some trans people wish to medically transition, get the "surgery" and go through life as if they were cis. But not all trans people want that. Gender is messy and complicated, its not nearly as black and white a we have been taught to believe. There are many trans people (both binary and non-binary) who will never medically transition. That does not make them less trans, it does not make them delusional. Yet because we have this black and white thinking ingrained in us from childhood, any deviation from the strict boxes of "man" and "woman" are immediately questioned, and that includes gender non-conforming people - both trans and cis.

This type of transphobia is not talked about enough, as the people doing it will so often hide behind the idea that they are protecting "real" trans people, and just want to make sure that they are respected and taken seriously. But, respect for a persons gender identity CANNOT be conditional. It does not matter if they "don't pass". It doesn't matter if they are a good person, a bad person. The second you start dictating who gets to have their gender respected is the second you stop being an ally. And that includes fictional characters like Yamato.

[icallhimjoey]

Not sure if you've done this but it fits the general mood of the fandom lately: I want grovel-y Joe. Knows he really fucked up but he's a guy so he doesn't know how to fix it so he just throws anything at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly we're not sure if we'll forgive him but we're definitely sticking around to see how far he's willing to go.

(yes I am in therapy 🤣)

okay im using this request to fix whatever that bullshit was that i wrote before this - hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 3.8K

---

I'll Let The Sun Decide

Joe realises it in the morning. Feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

Correction: the biggest fucking idiot on the moon.

He watches you walk out of his bedroom after leaving a perfect cup of coffee, exactly how he likes it, on his bedside table and everything about that makes his heart ache.

After the way he behaved last night, he knows he doesn't deserve a sweet gesture from the girl who looks like she only managed to sleep for about two hours.

You look exhausted.

He only catches a glimpse of you, and a few seconds later he can hear the coffee machine go again. You're making a coffee for yourself after making him one, and Joe can't help but groan his face into his pillow.

Fuck.

He didn't reach out for you in the night.

Your one fucking rule.

He vaguely remembers going, "Hmm?" after he raised his head off his pillow in a jolt.

"Just me." You'd whispered, nothing malicious hidden in your voice, because it was after midnight and it wasn't the time to continue whatever you'd started earlier that evening.

He should've reached over then.

He hadn't. Not even a knee to your thigh, or a toe to your foot.

Nothing.

He should've been happy you'd come back to his flat instead of going to your own. You could've so easily decided to avoid him for a bit, but you didn't. You said you'd come back, and then you did, and, fuck.

He hadn't reached out.

He hadn't even read the texts you'd sent. Left you with a bunch of grey ticks.

Well.

He had read them, but only in the notification bar.

He'd seen the messages about you making it to the office safely. Of how Charlotte was there too - you'd do the work together and you'd be done much faster that way. A little later of how you'd just be another hour, and of how you'd let him know when you'd leave.

He wanted you to feel bad about choosing your work over him, so he withheld the coloured ticks and had felt real fucking smug over it. It was sickening how right he'd felt about his actions in the moment. Every petty little thing justified, just because you'd hurt his feelings.

You'd climbed into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and the feeling of movement next to him pulled him from his slumber. And then, instead of reaching over like he should have done, he had sighed all heavily, like he was really fucking annoyed that you'd woken him up as you got comfortable under his covers. He'd rolled over and ignored you. Turned his back and festered in his own anger like a moody teenager because he truly believed you deserved it.

What a fucking loser.

Didn't touch you all night.

The realisation slaps him in the face unexpectedly, and your early-morning kind gesture is what flips the entire script. What a fucking loser of a boyfriend.

You've made the deadline.

Joe sees it when he opens his messages after taking a perfect sip of hot coffee, and it's weird how he feels awful about himself and proud of you at the same time.

He didn't need to let the world burn over such a tiny inconvenience.

Joe hates the moon.

Longs for the sun.

The moon is cold and dark and he's all alone up there, only warmed by the light the sun will bring him.

The sun. Or, the messy-haired girl with tired eyes in soft clothes too big for her body who brought him a hot cup of coffee before she even made one for herself. Either or. Same thing.

Joe stares at your messages in silence, gives you the coloured ticks he should've given you last night, and feels heavy guilt find home in the pit of his stomach.

You finished all the work in time. Probably have done a real good job at it too. Did it at the office, away from Joe's bad temper, and managed to actually focus and forget about how he told you to fuck off when you were already on your way out anyway.

What a dick-move.

Fragile ego syndrome, you'd guessed then.

That dick-move is what had you second-guessing going back over to Joe's for a while. Maybe going back to your own flat was the smarter idea. Avoid the confrontation and just text him the next day, after he'd cooled off a bit.

Maybe he'd actually read those then.

Another dick-move.

Joe could be so annoying sometimes, but it was easy to read him and you knew that just a little consideration of your time would fix whatever this silly issue was. With that in mind, you'd made your way back over to his.

You knew his dick-moves only meant he was going to feel bad about himself come tomorrow morning.

And you were right.

Besides an annoyed sigh and a soft grumble, you didn't get much else from him when you got into bed.

That was fine.

Again, you didn't think it was the right time to continue a fight anyway.

But the morning brought something new.

You woke up before Joe did and it took a few seconds for you to remember. To realise your prediction was right. Joe hasn't reached out in the night. No silent I still love you touch under the covers for you.

And it stings.

Could make you cry if you thought about it long enough.

Joe's stayed on his side of the bed, facing away from you, and you tell yourself that at least you've come back to his flat like you said you would. You finished the work you had to finish, and did the right thing by returning.

But then, you concluded, you also haven't reached out to him at all, and immediately felt bad.

Joe can be so annoying sometimes, but you do still love him, and a warm palm to a shoulder blade could've at least let him know.

It would've made you the bigger person.

Which, you still were. You came back, didn't you? But Joe was being an absolute child and you didn't want to sink down to his level.

You should've reached over. Should've touched him. You have no good excuse for not following the one rule you came up with after your first real argument, and now you feel bad.

Shit.

The coffee is to make up for it. At least a little. To say, I'm sorry I didn't reach out, here's me doing that now.

"Morning," you whispered when you saw him stir and open a squinty, confused eye.

You didn't wait for a reply. Just left the coffee there and walked back to go and make yourself one too.

Joe watched you leave and the moon came crashing down.

He knows what the coffee means.

He's read your messages, can hear you make breakfast in his kitchen and decides he needs to reach out too. With his coffee in hand, he gets up and makes his way over to his living area where he finds you rubbing your fist into an eye through a yawn, with a carton of eggs in the other hand.

"Morning," he croaks, and sees how it's only just starting to get light outside, it's so early still.

It feels a little weird and embarrassing to speak to you right now. To remember how you'd been in this same room just a few hours ago, and he'd told you to fuck off.

Fuck off, he'd said. To his girlfriend. Had meant it with his whole chest too. What a fucking idiot.

You turn your head to give him a small smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and ask, "Do you want some eggs?"

The moon can die.

He doesn't want the moon.

The moon is too far from the sun. He wants you closer and happy and well-rested and for your smile to overtake your whole lovely beautiful face when you see him and he hasn't got the faintest clue where to even start to fix it.

He doesn't know how to turn all the feelings in his chest into words to convey how sorry he feels. Has no idea what to say. Has no idea how you'll react to a verbal apology either.

But you look so soft, shoulders slouched, the scrunched up bit of fabric that held your hair up and out of your face as you slept about to slip out. And, even though he can tell it's not a real smile, you're still giving him a kind face. You're being civil.

You've made him a coffee how he likes it and just offered to make him some eggs and, Jesus, he's just the most awful person ever, isn't he?

The overwhelming need to wrap himself around all of you takes over.

Joe leaves his coffee on the side and steps closer to attach himself to your back. You accept it, and he can feel how you let your head rest against the side of his as he hugs you, arms tight around your waist.

He's glad that you let him.

But he also feels the defeat there.

The, Joe what the fuck, that's waiting to slip out of your mouth. Maybe it's why you're keeping things surface level. No time or energy to get into an actual conversation right now. Just breakfast eggs and perfect coffee.

That's okay.

Joe doesn't know what to say anyway, and he'd love some eggs, actually.

"I'd love some, but," Joe kisses the side of your face, does it quick so he doesn't have to feel you pull away from it, and then gently moves you aside. "Let me."

A first attempt at fixing it.

Joe finishes breakfast whilst you go for the quickest shower of your life. When you turn the water off he asks what time you need to leave from the kitchen. His eyes find your coffee that's going cold, and he thinks it's so stupid that you have to be back at work so soon.

This time he doesn't feel sorry for himself, though. This time he feels sorry for you.

It's a big difference.

You've only just left the office, Joe thinks. And sure, sometimes he makes long hours and feels like he lives on set, but you're in an office.

He knows that's different.

Worse.

You've got to go and present all the things you've finished and he knows you like it just as much as he does. That being: not at all. There's no use in getting angry at you.

He sees that now.

You're just as much at fault for not being able to go out with him last night as he is. That being: not at all.

Joe watches you take a few hurried mouthfuls of egg on toast, and he wants to tell you sorry before you leave.

He doesn't.

Isn't sure how, and feels like a literal child because, Jesus Christ, they're just words.

But you smile at him, even though it's only small. And you let him kiss your cheek on your way out. And when you've left, it's not even eight o'clock, which is too fucking early, and he decides he needs to give you more quiet I love yous that he didn't give you under the covers in the night the way he should've done.

You get flowers delivered to the office that afternoon.

It's a large bunch, beautiful colours, and you can't lie; it absolutely makes you smile. You can tell it's expensive, and you know he's paid extra for the same day delivery, but... he didn't reach for you last night, and you didn't reach for him either, and whenever you think of Joe, that's all that comes to mind.

You'd seen him turn to stone.

So cold and careless.

Had seen in his face how he didn't give a single shit about how inconsiderate he was being.

A bunch of flowers isn't going to magically make that visual go away, but it's nice that he' tried's trying, and you try to hold onto that.

When you leave the office that day, you text Joe that you're headed to your own flat because there's food in your fridge that needs eating before it goes off, and your dishwasher is half filled with dirty dishes that have been in there for about a week already, so you kind of need to go turn it on, and there's probably also a load of laundry you could do, plus a quick pass of your floors with a vacuum, maybe.

Joe doesn't get to read it for a few hours. Busy day on set. When he eventually does, sort of annoyed that you had to wait for his coloured ticks again, he texts back, "Yours?"

And you text back so quickly, it makes his guilt grow.

"don't forget your key, im gonna lie down "

Perfect, Joe thinks. He'll sneak in and maybe get some of your shit sorted whilst you kip on your sofa.

But when he walks in, you're not on the sofa. You're already in bed, and that's sort of heartbreaking, because it's so early, and Joe finds the food that's about to go off uneaten in your fridge still. Finds the dishwasher still half filled, smelling rank, dirty dishes growing mould in there. He also sees the full hamper that needs sorting and washing, and, how had he even had the gall to assume that you could just make time for him at a moment's notice when you hadn't even been able to take care of any of this?

Joe starts the dishwasher.

Sorts your dirty laundry and starts a dark wash.

Cooks the food that's about to go off and places it in plastic tubs to have at another time.

Notices you've not taken the flowers that he had express delivered home and tries not let that affect him, but fails.

You're not sure what it is that wakes you. The beeping of the dishwasher, or the clanging of plates as Joe places the clean ones back into their cupboards. When Joe comes to find you, you're on your side, facing away from the door, but Joe can see you're awake by the light from your phone that silhouettes you.

"You're awake," Joe says, voice surprised, and it makes you turn to look over your shoulder.

"Hey," you say softly, and Joe's eyebrows knit together automatically at how sad you sound.

"Thanks for the flowers," you turn in bed to let Joe kiss you as he bends over to place a small one to your forehead. "They got delivered during my presentation."

"Was it embarrassing?" Joe asks, sitting down next to you, one arm either side of you as he leans over. Kisses you again, but on your mouth this time.

"Very. Vanessa just barged in with them."

"Did you like them?"

"Hmm," you nod and give a little smile. Joe's glad for it, but he feels there's a distance there still. You're keeping your hands to yourself, even though his bare arms are right there.

"I um," Joe starts, and wants to start listing all the things he's done. Wants to tell you how he's been sweet, and kind, like you were with him this morning, and he wants those things to be the silent I love yous he should've given you last night.

But then he changes his mind and says, "Did the, um... did the presentation go okay?"

You nod, because it did go really well, actually. Thank fuck. But Joe doesn't ask any more questions about it, and he seems to hesitate to even speak at all. Seems to want to say something that he's clearly not saying. Afraid to say the wrong thing, maybe. You wonder if there's a sincere I'm sorry hiding in there somewhere.

"You seem tired..." he skirts around the issue, and it's disappointing, but not surprising.

"I am tired."

Then Joe looks at the empty space in your bed for a moment and gets up. Starts undressing. Leaves his clothes in a neat pile on your dresser and goes to brush his teeth.

When Joe looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns.

Fucking idiot.

Look at that coward.

He rests both hands on the sink, hangs into his shoulders, breathes through flared nostrils, and feels like a failure. You must think he is one too.

He didn't reach over last night.

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he steps back into your bedroom and inhales a deep breath through his nose before he mumbles a barely audible and a very foamy, "I shouldn't have..."

He hears himself, grumbles low in this throat and turns on his heel, spits the toothpaste out and comes back.

Starts again.

"I shouldn't have said those things. Last night. I was being a dick, I shouldn't have done– well, anything, really. I was being mean just to be mean, I'm–"

"Joe," you interrupt, your voice soft.

You didn't reach out either.

"No," Joe argues, moves to sit back down next to you, arms back either side of you, hands pressing into the mattress. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I just," Joe sighs. Frowns. Doesn't know what to say.

What can he say to make you run a hand up one of his forearms?

"I didn't..." he tries once more, but falters again. Drops his head and knows he can't cry because he is not the person he's hurt.

He didn't reach over last night.

"Hey. I didn't either."

You read between the lines, even though your vision goes blurry with tears. You can hear the words Joe isn't saying and can read the thoughts he's not communicating. Joe's face always tells you a million things. You wonder if he's aware how easy he is to read.

You also wonder if he's aware that it's not going to be enough.

Joe swipes a thumb across your temple, close to your eye, and catches a tear that was about to slide into your hair.

He swallows thickly. Tries to swallow down whatever's hurting his throat.

"I don't want to live on the moon..." he then mutters, regretting how he set the world on fire. He wants to live on planet earth, even though it's all grey and black ashes now. He'll plant flowers there. Will feed them water, and will politely ask the sun let them grow.

Will ask you.

You're the sun.

You get to decide.

You don't fully understand what Joe means, because it sounds ridiculous, actors and their theatrics, but you tell him you don't want to live on the moon either and he huffs a laugh at how absurd that sounds coming from your straight face that's pretending it's not actively crying.

You're the sun.

Of course you don't want to live on the moon, silly.

"Your priority–" you start, breath hitching, but Joe is quick to interrupt.

"You. You. Us. I'm... it's us. I promise, it's us..." Joe sighs again, seemingly upset at remembering his own behaviour.

"Saying that is easy, though," you start, finally letting your fingers slowly wrap around one of his arms.

A touch.

It's enough to make Joe's whole face crumble.

He ducks down. Lets his arms find your shoulders to pull you up a little so he can hug you properly, both arms wrapped tightly around your frame, his face hidden into your neck, and you know Joe's only crying because of your fingertips touching his wrist. The smallest things can get him sometimes – so dramatic.

But you continue, "I believe that you believe that your priority is us, but when you're stomping around your kitchen, blaming me for shit I have no controll over, telling me that it's my fault that I–"

"No," Joe mumbles into your skin, and pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours. "No."

And you give his forehead a slight push with yours and you want to say, yes.

Yes that's what you were doing.

Yes that's what happened.

Yes you got caught up in all of your own feelings and forgot that I have a whole set of my own.

But then Joe whispers, "I'm sorry." and you can't help but go absolutely lax in his hold.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I love you, I'm sorry." he whispers his apologies against your mouth through heavy breaths because he's doing his best to not cry, but he's failing, because then he feels you shake with a sob, and, fuck that, he'll banish himself to the moon, actually.

He'll live up there no matter how miserable it is, and he'll take whatever sunlight he can get, and he'll be thankful for the rays you'll allow to even reach him at all.

"You didn't t-touch–" you stutter, and immediately feel Joe squeeze you tighter.

"I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry." Joe whispers right into your ear. Keeps repeating it, over and over and over.

Your one rule.

He should've never broken it.

It's good to hear the words, the I'm sorrys tumbling over his lips, and you'll accept them for now. But actions speak louder than words, and you know that there will probably be a time where the way the world treats Joe will make his head grow to twice its size again. He'll do and say similar shit. Won't want to meet you halfway, but will demand that you make the trek all the way over to him, won't care what the ground will look like, and won't care if you're wearing shoes for it or not.

Joe doesn't know it right now, but you can see into the future and know it will happen again.

And when it does, you'll grow a little colder.

Let some of your rays die out.

"Here. Lay back." Joe says after holding you for a while, and when your head finds your pillow again, Joe curls around and uses every body part of his to touch yours under the covers.

Every inch of skin touching yours is a big fat quiet I love you that he'll repeatedly tell you all night. He's not gonna let go.

He knows he's on the moon still. Up there, all alone. Cold. In the dark.

He said he's sorry, but knows it's not enough.

Wants off, but is smart enough to not set foot somewhere he's not allowed yet.

He has said that he's sorry, and now he needs to wait for the sun.

Wait for you.

And he'll touch you under the covers until you're ready.

Whispers the promises into your hair as you fall asleep.

You get to decide.

He'll let the sun decide.

---

The Taglisted

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add yourself

[magicalbunbun]

Hello, although I understand that you have many au for different fandoms, and most likely you will not continue your au for Gravity Falls.

But still, I became too curious, why exactly does Y/N hate Bill? Like, hatred is never groundless, is it? Still, there is something that made them hate Bill so much that they wanted to take revenge on him by making his life hell.

For some reason I thought that this was due to the fact that Bill destroyed their flat world, from which they both come. I can imagine that Y/N would also have family and friends, have her own happy life, and then it all ended because of one yellow triangle. In their place, everyone would want revenge.

This is, of course, just my theory, but I'm very interested in how their relationship developed and how they got to the point where they hated each other.

(Love the art)

Well y/n really hates bill for destroying his home, and ending y/n loves one, that's why y/n get more aggressive at him and demanding to make bill suffer.

That's why y/n start to manipulate stanley and also dipper, making deals with important figures and changing the timeline, where stanley can't age that's why he look younger then stanford.

As time go on y/n start to get power hunger as playing with bill, not letting him go just to play with it.

There is no way that anyone can stop y/n from it.

[shorthaltsjester]

seeing people use the various pinterest “pain that just made this person kind” quotes about laudna over the past few months truly grind my gears. like. textually no actually all that pain has irrevocably changed laudna in ways that are not kind, has changed her ways that means she dehumanizes herself, views herself as a dead end unworthy/incapable of having a life let alone a happy ending, and she can be calculated and cruel like. it is true that she is playful, but (and this is a theme across all fandoms about women in fiction honestly but especially in cr fandom) the reason her kindness is resonant is because we see that it’s not the only option that she’s resorted to out of her own pain, in fact it’s probably the hardest option faced with the trauma that she has. like the reason the moment in whitestone when she apologizes to percy because she recognizes they are both in pain from the same source, to me that’s as resonant as it is because up until the moment she made that choice to be kind, it seemed equally possible that she would lash out because of the different places they currently are in and that her pain still takes up such a huge role in her life.

this is probably a bigger issue i have with the notion of pain making people kind as if it the people in question have no choice but especially in cases like laudna where currently we’re seeing exactly how unkind her pain can make her — not in a Shes Evil way but just in a. it isn’t actually kind at all to hate yourself even if it makes you docile or willing to bend yourself to the plans of (even well intentioned) others. like, it wasn’t actually the years of solitude and delilah manipulation that made laudna kind, and in fact i’d argue that textually we’ve only seen proof that those years have made it harder for laudna to be kind in a way she might’ve been when she was still matilda; i think particularly of her attitude with children that would be taken more kindly from someone more alive and someone less literally haunting. that also shines in the whitestone exchange with percy, because it’s the recognition that underneath the cold and calculating city leader and the haunting witch come back from the dead again, they’re just two kids who had the unfortunate fate of having been targets for delilah briarwood, as different as the reasons for that were, they still both have to live with the pain, and they both likely would’ve been much kinder people if they didn’t have to.

kindness is a social skill that requires both practice/maintenance and awareness of those who you direct it at, neither of which are particular strengths of someone who has spent 30 years alone with her own voice mediated through a rat puppet or her patron’s in her head. and i do think it’s important for recognize that laudna tries to be kind, but i think the tragedy of her story and the complexity of her character is harshly undersold if you look at her and just ascribe her to the “all that pain and it just made her kind.” it makes the most interesting parts of laudna flat and static and worst of all, agencyless.

[renthony]

Lost in the Remaster: Star Trek, Vintage Special Effects, and the Charm of Old Media

by Ren Basel renbasel.com

Originally created by Gene Roddenberry, Star Trek is a franchise that spans decades. From the original series of 1966 to current shows such as Lower Decks, it stands as a titan of television and pop culture. The real world has undergone incredible change since Star Trek’s first appearance, yet nerds everywhere still find entertainment, inspiration, and hope in its classic episodes. Recently, along with my husband and best friend, I decided I wanted to attempt the gauntlet of watching the entire franchise from beginning to end, revisiting favorites and finally checking out the ones I missed. Media and fandom studies are my passion, after all, and Star Trek is a foundational part of modern American nerd culture.

Starting with the original series proved more difficult than expected. Living in a tiny apartment, we don’t have much space for DVDs, so Star Trek wasn’t in our existing collection. The local public library didn’t have copies, either, and putting in a purchase request doesn’t guarantee it will be made available. My family doesn’t have the funds to pay for every single streaming service on the market, and Star Trek isn’t available on any we do have access to. Piracy was starting to look like the only option, but even that fell flat when we couldn’t find a version with subtitles. Finally we dug it up officially and with subtitles, for free via PlutoTV, but there were still limitations: PlutoTV only streams season one, and season one is only available in the remastered edition that replaced the original special effects with new visuals.

It wasn’t ideal, but, hey, it was Star Trek.

Watching just one episode a week gave us enough time to scrape together savings to get what we really wanted for seasons two and three: the official BluRay release, which includes both remastered and original-release versions of each episode. The remasters are fine, but as a lover of media history and practical effects, I’m always disappointed to lose a chance to appreciate the originals. It doesn’t matter how good it might look, remasters are never as much fun to me as matte paintings, camera tricks, and whatever the prop department could pull off with ten dollars and some glue.

Finally having the BluRays in hand for season two only affirmed my love of vintage practical effects. Seeing the Enterprise in her original glory, before she was ever rendered in digital form, felt like opening a time capsule. I love time capsules. My favorite pieces of media are always those which capture a moment in time, showcasing the aesthetics, concerns, and culture of the time and place they were created. Star Trek: the Original Series is rooted in the late sixties, when mainstream culture in the United States was experiencing immense upheaval and social change. That context is written all over the show. The vintage effects add to it, grounding it in a very specific time and place. Updating the show’s effects takes away some of that 60s aesthetic, and while some may see it as making the show more timeless, I don’t care for it. To me, seeing what they could pull off before modern technology is half the fun of watching old shows. The ingenuity and creativity of propmakers, makeup artists, and set designers working on shoestring budgets is unparalleled.

To be clear, digital effects are also done by skilled professionals who deserve much more respect and many more labor protections. There are some truly stunning works created with digital tools. That said, I hate when digital effects are used to cover up the practical effects that came before. It feels disrespectful to the original artists, as if telling them their work wasn’t good enough; as if their work was just a placeholder until something better could come along and fix it. Practical effects aren’t a placeholder, they’re an art form in their own right, and that art form is one for which I have deep appreciation.

It frustrates me that the original, non-remastered episodes were such a pain for us to access, but I’m very glad to have added them to my personal media collection. No matter what future tweaks Star Trek’s rights holders might make, I can always pop in our personal copies to enjoy the Enterprise and her crew in all their vintage, “outdated” glory. If you’re also too young to remember the show’s original airing, and you have the opportunity to watch the unedited version, I highly suggest you do. Watching the version that aired in 1966 gives the show a charm that no amount of remastering can ever match.

_

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[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 15 - "Fine explain it to me."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Slight shipping but can be seen as platonic too

A/N: Just wanted to mention that I usually am more of a found family themed dpxdc writer but this was a self runner once I started writing until I realised that this could be seen as a ship.

Danny sipped on the champain, he was drinking leaning against the wall. Next to him, also leaning against the wall with crossed arms was Dan glaring at everyone that even remotely tried to approach them. Dani had disappeared into the crowds and Danny was convinced that she had made her way to the buffet table and had found a hiding place with whatever food she had piled up high on a plate. He had seen her do that before.

"How long do these things go?" Dan asked, glaring at someone specifically, Danny knew was a business partner of the fruitloop.

"A couple of hours, usually fruitloop lets us leave around 8 pm." Danny answered easily, surveying the area for any familiar face he might recognize despite knowing he wouldn't. Sam's family wasn't attending this gala and any face he could recognize was probably a business partner of Vlad or someone he had seen on a magazine cover.

"Dile back your glare. Your eyes are glowing red." He offhandedly mentioned to his time-clone-twin taking another sip. Dan only growled at him and looked stubbornly away, though his eyes lost the red color and turned back to a blue.

"How do you and Dani do this shit?"

Danny hummed, museing how things had changed over the past couple of years since Dani and him started to attend these Galas Vlad made them go too. "I hated it at first too. But you weren't socialized enough to attend and Dani used to flat out refuse but we got used to it and found our tactics on how to handle it. Dani usually raids the buffet and finds a hiding place, I just hang with Sam if she is here."

"But she is not." Dan growled, now glaring at a rich kid that had looked like it wanted to approach them but wisely decided to turn tail at Dan's glare. "These stuck up kids are trying to mock us aren't they?"

"Yup." Danny popped the p. "We could always ghost the fruitloop though."

"And have to listen to him lecturing us later? No thanks." Dan's eyes went over the people at this place. He saw Vlad talking to someone he was pretty sure had been on the cover of some tech magazine before but then his eyes stopped on a guy with black hair and blue eyes looking only slightly older than them that was staring at them very intensely.

Dan rammed his elbow into Danny's side, causing the other to wheeze and nearly drop the glass he was holding. The one he had spotted was now on his way to approach them and Dan narrowed his eyes. "You know that guy?"

Danny once he caught his breath again looked up and his eyes widened with recognition. "Shit!"

But before Dan could question the other about that guy, who was now speed walking with a business smile towards them, Danny grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him along with him. "We need to go, like right now."

Dan dragging his feed and making Danny literally drag him along only looked at his phone arching an eyebrow mockingly. "It's not 8 pm yet."

"Text the fruitloop. We are going-"

"Danny, what a pleasure to see you here, I didn't know you attended galas like this." Danny got cut off by the same guy Dan had spotted watching them. He hadn't seen how but somehow that guy had managed to cross the hall before them and block Danny's exit.

Dan heard Danny mutter a distinctive "fuck" before letting go of his elbow and smiling at the guy nervously. "Dick. What a surprise. I didn't know you would be here."

"Dick?" Dan repeated with an arched eyebrow but Danny swiftly stepped on his foot.

"Well Bruce thought it was about time again I attended one of the Galas with him again. You know how it is, don't you?" There was a glint in the other's eyes and Dan eyed him interested, the guy had some dirt on Danny. This was going to be interesting.

"Ah well yea, Vlad asked for me to come along too and someone got to represent my late parents too after all." Danny laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and clearly avoiding direct eye contact.

"Represent your late parents?"

"Yea funny thing, my parents willed their company to me and-"

"I thought you said you were an engineer working for Dalv.Co? To think I told you about how I am with the Waynes and yet you never mentioned even once to me your relation to Masters." Dan blinked, okay so that guy was a friend Danny had made somehow outside of Sam and Tucker.

"I do! I do, it's just that… well... I can explain!"

"Fine, explain it to me."

Danny appeared to be a flustered mess while this Dick was staring at him with crossed arms. Dan watched them with fascination and a small amount of satisfaction at how Danny fumbled with his words. He then felt a tuck at his side and locked down to find Dani offering him popcorn.

"That's Dick Greyson." Something suddenly clicked for Dan and he smirked down at Dani.

"The guy that's teaching your Gymnastic course that Danny always volunteers to take you too?"

Dani nodded once more and now also sporting a mischievous smile.

[icedragonlizard]

I might get torn apart for posting this, but imo it must be said.

To make it crystal clear, I don't excuse Susie's actions in Planet Robobot. But I don't excuse Taranza's actions in Triple Deluxe either.

I think people in the Kirby fandom infantilize Taranza way too much.

I am not joking when I say that I've seen people go as far as to say that he was "never a villain in the first place". That he's "innocent".

I'm sorry, but that's just flat out wrong. He was objectively the villain during Triple Deluxe. "He was just following orders!" is not proof of innocence when he was following the orders of a dictator. Taranza was a dictator-enabler. A dictator's right-hand man. That's not innocent. He lowkey kidnapped people in the name of this dictator.

Who knows what he could've done off-screen during the game while dragging Dedede around with him... probably could've tormented a lot of unshown Floralians while Kirby was trying to stop the takeover.

I also believe that Taranza loved playing the villain. He looks incredibly smug while dragging Dedede around and provoking bosses into fighting Kirby. Not to mention the very things that he says in his monologue right before he uses Dedede like a puppet to fight Kirby.

.... So much for the claims of "never a villain in the first place".

I very much believe he's reformed (Susie too, tbh) but I wish people would stop totally erasing his actions and pretending he did no bad.

This is not meant to demonize Taranza in any way. It's just... I absolutely hate that people treat him like a poor little innocent baby while simultaneously treating Susie like an irredeemable, unforgivable monster. They committed very similar crimes, but somehow get treated like they're opposite ends of the spectrum morality-wise.

Now, when comparing them, Susie is indeed the worse of the two overall, because her actions were done on multiple planets vs. one country. But that doesn't change the fact that it's still hypocritical to treat one of them like they're innocent while demonizing the other.

Regardless of the different scales of their crimes, they're both ultimately just second-in-commands to corrupt higher-ups that then helped give Kirby something to fight the final boss when it mattered.

I like to think that Taranza and Susie are both rather morally grey people with good and bad qualities. To me, they're friends with Kirby now, but they still have flaws despite not being as bad as they were before. I'd put Magolor on the same boat alongside with them too.

Taranza can both have grief and still have flaws. And I think Susie 100% has had grief for her dad too, even if she's less open about it.

One of the reasons why Susie discourse is so aggravating is because people simultaneously downplay and infantilize other villains, especially Taranza. People are hypocrites. I bet people wouldn't give a crap if Taranza or Magolor were to turn Meta Knight into a robot.

I get why the colonization and capitalism themes for both Susie and Planet Robobot as a whole can strike a nerve to some people and elicit discomfort, but I don't really think that warrants a massive and unfair discrepancy to how she gets treated compared to the others.

While I can get why those themes can make some people not like her as much as others, I don't think it makes it fair to treat her like an unforgivable demon because her villainy happens to be more real.

Just because the others are less real doesn't mean they're innocent.

The double standards suck.

[gl1tched-g0th]

Happy Pride. Can we celebrate by, just for the month, having fandoms not be weird about lesbians/lesbian-coded characters.

Can we acknowledge that just because a woman character exists, and doesn't stare directly into the camera like an episode of the Office to say "I Do Not Like Men", that doesn't mean they aren't lesbian?

Can we please acknowledge how fandoms, especially cartoon spaces, are not normal about lesbians and lesbian coding. Can we acknowledge that lesbian is not a "dirty" or "taboo" word, and that it is okay to admit that a character is just a flat out lesbian.

Can we not try to maneuver our way around it by saying "well they could be bi/pan!", like so many people do with lesbian characters. For example:

-Amity from TOH, confirmed lesbian. People still argue that she's bisexual, because she drew herself with a fictional nonbinary character from a book once in the entire show.

-Velma from Scooby Doo, confirmed lesbian. When she got confirmed, people still argued she was bi because she dated men in past shows/specials - despite her being visibly uncomfortable in the relationships in question. Some even argued it was "bi-erasure" to make her a lesbian, which is insane to me.

-Amaya from The Dragon Prince, confirmed lesbian. Before she was confirmed, people said she was a "bicon" instead of lesbian, despite her showing no interest in men within the show. All she did was have a male interpreter (because shes DEAF and needs one), and people immediately paired them together.

-Ellie Williams from TLOU, confirmed lesbian. She shows no interest in men, states multiple times that men are "not her type", has only dated/had crushes on women within all games, the show, and even the comic, and yet people still claim she's bi.

-Robin Buckley from Stranger Things, confirmed lesbian. There's not much I can say here. She came out as a lesbian in the show, and people still call her bisexual. The jokes write themselves.

-Sammy from Camp Cretaceous/Chaos Theory, lesbian-coded. She's often headcanoned as anything but lesbian, often excused with "she never Outright said she's a lesbian like Yaz said she was bi", or that a few crew members said she was meant to be ambiguous. Yet I see nobody questioning why she specifically - the only other main female character, and who has never shown interest in men - is being kept that way.

-Vanessa from The Hollow, lesbian-coded. Developed a friendship with a male character, but has never expressed romantic interest in men. Laughing at a joke made by the opposite gender, and wanting to impress a male character because of a need for validation are not signs of romantic interest, by the way.

I am not saying you can't headcanon characters as bi, or that bi people are "evil", or trying to ""police"" who you ship together or whatever else excuse people use to derail conversations about this. There is a frequent pattern within fandoms where a lesbian (coded) character exists + has any relationship with a man ever + doesn't explicitly state they don't like men = not a lesbian. And fuck, even when they DO say they don't like men, they are still seen as bi.

Queer-coding is just as eminent as having a character be confirmed as queer. And, surprisingly (sarcasm) that also applies to lesbian coded characters. Lesbian characters do not need to "prove" their lesbianism to the viewers by hating/isolating themselves from men to be lesbians. They do not need to say outright that they don't like men in order to be lesbian coded. They can have relationships with men without being romantically interested in them. Lesbians have been fighting for so long to not be seen as "needing" to be with men in order to just. exist.

And believe me I could go on a whole rant about how this entire issue has roots in misogyny within the community, or how some people still haven't unlearned the idea of how a man and woman can have an 100% platonic relationship, or how people treat calling a character lesbian as a "last resort", but this post is already a wall of text as it is.

Please just be normal about lesbians in media.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

omg i love ur page. can u do clueless virgin reader stops in the middle of sex w/ nanami bc she thinks she has to pee? (when its actually her orgasm)

(actual writing under the divider)

Aww thank you!. ^_^

So I had actually worked on something that sort of fit this request but for another character, different fandom. Anyway, long story short, I hated that character for this scenario and ended up deleting it. So after some changes and rewriting, lo and behold! Perfect for Nanami!

Nanami masterlist

“That’s it…relax…you’ll definitely enjoy this…”

His words are whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky. It’s been a while since you started dating Nanami but you didn’t expect him to have this kind of enthusiasm when you finally admitted you were a virgin. It’s not like you didn’t have chances, but you were just a late bloomer on this front. 

There was a lot of nervousness when you first started dating him. At 21, you felt so young and unsure, being with a man of his age and obvious experience. There were some days you couldn’t believe he was dating you but he was so charming, sweet, and respectful of your boundaries. Your inexperience with sex didn’t seem to bother him, and he never teased you or made you feel pressured to do anything with him. 

And he plainly stated he wasn’t actually having sex with you until you figured out what you enjoyed. So right now, he was on a personal mission to explore your body and give you a safe space to explore your sexuality.

Because you kept closing your knees whenever his hands started wandering a little too high, you’re now sitting between his legs, back against his chest, knees over his, your feet planted on the outer sides of his thighs. This way he could keep your legs open with his when he felt you trying to close off. 

His fingers have found your clit, and he’s gently rubbing it in circles with his middle finger, slick from your arousal dripping from your entrance. 

“How does this feel darling?” 

All you can do is whimper at the sensation that’s building inside you. He chuckles, resting his head on top of yours.

“A fine response. But I need actual words. Now, tell me. Do you like this better-“

He gently increases the pressure of the circles he’s making.

“Or this?”

His thumb and middle fingers come together to gently pinch the hardened bud, rolling it in between, and your whimper becomes a strangled shriek as you try to close your legs, held firmly apart by his thighs. 

“Too much,” you whimper. “Too hard. Too sensitive.”

“Ssh. It’s ok. Thank you for telling me.” His entire hand lays flat on your slit, calming your nerves, using all his fingers to resume the gentle circle strokes again.

“Better?”

“Y-yeah…so much…” Those little circles are making you crazy, but it’s the way he’s doing it. So much patience, no rush to get to the main event, just focusing on your comfort. 

“Hm…let’s see how you’re doing inside…”

His thumb takes over the circling motions as his middle finger slips down and gently flirts with the wetness at your core. You’re wholly unprepared as the tip of his finger gently pushes in, making you take in a sharp breath. He pauses, and gently speaks in your ear.

“Relax. Take a breath. It’ll make it easier for what I have planned. I promise it won’t hurt.”

You take in a deep breath and let it out, surprised when you feel the muscles down there release naturally, aided by the stimulation on your clit. His finger pushes in further, curling as it enters, and you marvel at the feeling of it stretching you out. His fingers were so long and thick, and you moan softly at the pressure. A dexterous fingertip makes come hither motions on your inner wall and find that little patch inside you that makes your walls squeeze on his finger with pleasure. He continues to angle his finger that way until your moans fill the room.

“That’s it lovely…keep going…we’ll get you there…” he plants kisses on your neck and shoulder, his free hand coming up to cup your breast, twisting your hardened nipple. All the stimulation causes your hips to buck, mewling at the feeling. You’re helpless to stop it, when you try to struggle, Nanami parts his legs farther, taking yours with him. The exposure and vulnerability adds to your arousal. Your core is dripping, the slickness coating his finger and dripping down to his wrist. 

“Do you think you can take another one?” His hot breath is on your ear. He can’t believe how sexy you look like this, falling apart in his hands, mouth open and making such lewd noises of pleasure. With the remaining brain cells you have you nod, your dripping core begging for a little more. 

Nanami is gentle with his finger as he inserts another one, amazed at how smoothly it goes in, your hole leaking slick as he does so. He feels his cock harden in his pants, straining against the fabric, and he grits his teeth. Someday he tells himself. Not before you’re done learning about your body.

As he continues, your belly fills with heat, energy gathering tightly in your thighs and core. Despite how good his movements feel, you suddenly sense pressure in your abdomen. Your brain jerks you away from the pleasure of his fingers, making you panic slightly.

“Nanami.” You urgently tap his knee to catch his attention. Hearing the tone in your voice, he stops. 

“Everything ok?” His voice is deep, laced with concern. You feel your face burn with embarrassment.

“I…I think I need to pee.” You say in a small voice. God, why couldn’t the floor open up and swallow you whole? 

He hasn’t removed his fingers and chuckles softly. “No you don’t.”

You can’t believe the confidence that he said that with. It was so out of character for him to not listen to you. “No, trust me I do. I feel the pressure in my belly.”

There’s a pause before he softly asks, “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

Oh God why! Blood rushes to your face as you try to not stutter. The honest answer was no, you hadn’t, for various reasons. “No.” you mumble the word, thankful he can’t see your face. “Does it matter?”

“Ah. I see.” He resumes his ministrations on you. Your whole body was unprepared for him to start up again so suddenly and your body almost arches off the mattress. 

“But Nanami…”

“Trust me…and my experience here y/n…” he says to you gently. Need takes over as he picks up his movements, driving the intrusive thought out of your head. He said to trust him…What did he know that you didn’t? 

As your abdominal muscles clench, winding down tightly like a spring, that feeling of pressure coming back but instead you take a deep breath and then…

Your pleasure peaks and your fist the bedsheets, toes curling into the mattress as spasm after spasm rocks you, sobbing his name. His fingers don’t stop, gently pushing you through your orgasm, making sure you feel every last dreg of pleasure before the high starts to fade. 

“Oohh…” You sigh out breathily, in realization. 

Nanami chuckles with satisfaction near your head. 

“Welcome to your first orgasm my dear.”

dividers by @/cafekitsune