#but we have our reasons.

[faunabells]

henlo everyone, it's nice to meet cha! and...who are we exactly?:

✿♡✿ our collective being has many names, so we can just be referred to as the faunabells or simply bambie (he/they/it). :3 our body's 20, and a lot of us are around that age too. ♡ terms we currently feel connected to: alterhuman, posic+, queer, maladaptive daydreamers, multicollective, polyplex, adaptive, & eso/neuro/paragenic. ✿ we're audhd with mid support needs + we seem to have d.i.d? we don't know, but another system of ours thinks so. ♡ the image above is our collective flag! it's colors & arrangement are mostly pure aesthetic choices, but they do have personal meanings. if we ever want to/are ask to explain our design in detail, we'll link it *here*. (there's no link as of now, and the image description is at the end below a cut. dear screen readers, we hope that's ok?) ✿♡✿

byf & interact:

✿♡✿ this blog started out as a plural positivity blog, it still is, but it now has a public journal aspect to it. we'll also host art & whatever special interest our headmates want to talk about. *here's our extensive tag list if that helps any.* ♡ we, of course, support & respect all plurals regardless of origin. we won't necessarily block you if you break your own dni, but we will if you light a match to our stove. let us cook in peace, please. ✿ by the way, please block #stim rbs if stimboards make you motion sick/or anything. other than that, this space is relatively vanilla & nut free... hopefully not too boring haha; we do have some exciting projects in progress. ♡ we do not consider multiple likes/rbs spam. i don't know if that needs to be clarified, but here's the go ahead anyway. ✿ dm & askbox status: open! just give us some time to answer, please. ✿♡✿

userboxes we've made for ourselves! though anyone can use them if they'd like. credit is appreciated, but necessarily needed.♡:

{ Image descriptions galore underneath cut: warning, it's a bit long.}

{start of image description for the very top of post:} { the first image: a divider of an assortment of hello kitty 3d models with a yellow heart charm on the right side while having a blue star charm on the left side.} { the second image: a complicated flag design that features tiny four stripes of white, pink, green, yellow running across a blue background. it's bordered with pink stars, covered in sparkles, has small hearts on the inner corners, and most notably, has a heart shape strawberry cake with strawberry themed tamagotchis on its either side.} { the third image: same as the first, repeated below the flag. } {end of the top-of-post description.} {start of userboxes description:} { the first userbox: a green box with my melody's pink rabbit ears poking up in a field of flowers. the text reads: this collective is shy and finds communication to be difficult. } { the second userbox: a pink box with a cartoon paw that's made out of strawberries in front of a green, white, and pink background. this is the pawberrygender flag. the text reads: this collective is anthro in a nonhuman sense. } { the third userbox: a green box with the eighties strawberry shortcake cast inside a heart. the text reads: this collective view themselves as a community. } { the fourth userbox: a pink box with a painting of a tea party hosted by rabbits. the text reads: this collective is looking for plural moots! } { the fifth userbox: a purple box with its image being a my melody plush. the text reads: this collective is trying to stay calm, so we are not open to discussions about discourse. } { the sixth userbox: a pink box with its image being a brown anthropomorphic bunny picking flowers. the text reads: this collective is still finding thr words that describes their experiences. } { the seventh userbox: a purple box with its image being an anime girl sitting with an unicorn. it says: this collective has issues with alexithymia, empathy, and general understanding of emotions. } { end of userboxes description. }

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[spyres]

[theshadowrealmitself]

I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them

People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human

“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”

“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”

“Yeah!!”

“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”

“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“

“How illogical”

“That’s what I’m saying!!!”

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

just to be completely clear, the amount of military power and political influence Israel has has NOTHING to do with its settlers being Jewish. Israel is a force for American & European interests in the region and they're just doing what America does and allows/encourages its close allies to do.

war crimes aren't considered war crimes when someone America finds useful is doing them. european and american pushback against anyone criticizing Israeli apartheid & genocide is 100% because these crimes are useful to American & European hegemony.

Governments that are deeply antisemitic, like France, aren't suddenly caring about Jewish people. Jewish people, persecuted the world over, don't hold some kind of hegemonic power outside of Israel.

The state of Israel and its attendant brutal treatment of the locals are both incredibly useful to the US, and American hegemony means we're expected to celebrate both.

not bc they're Jewish. this isn't a break in the pattern of western antisemitism and it's not evidence that antisemitism doesn't exist.

it's just like how you could get fired for saying shit against the US war in Afghanistan when i was growing up. it is 100% about US military and political interests (ok slightly western europe too but lbr)

[foldingfittedsheets]

Today on Donuts and Dogs we encountered a large dog with a muzzle in a group with a few other dogs on the trail. I didn’t initiate anything but the dog came up and rubbed so aggressively affectionately on us that we had to pet him.

I offered that I’ve seen dogs muzzled to prevent them eating rocks as a roundabout question. His mom sighed and said he has to wear it because otherwise he eats marijuana.

[plesiosaurys]

getting emotional over footage of an amateur scuba diver interacting with a coelacanth. they are hunted by large deepwater predators, and here comes a large creature bearing the brightest lights it's ever seen, making strange noises, but it does not shy away. it hovers, calmly, as the diver reaches out and trails a hand down its back. im strongly against the anthropomorphizing of real life animals but the stupid emotional part of me loudly insists this is because it recognizes us, the alternating movements of its four paired limbs matching the diver's four paired limbs, & it is thinking, "hello, cousins, we missed you these 66 million years, it's so good to see you again. welcome back, welcome home."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

None of our hands are clean

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[alliswyattonthewesternfront]

since i'm once again on a TOS binge, here are some of my favorite Bill Thiess creations. truly the best to ever do it. the pink number from "Who Mourns for Adonias" that is only held up by the weight of the train??? sensational

after his death, Thiess's estate auctioned off a lot of these pieces and donated the money to charity. if you ever want to feel insane read the prices some of it sold for. that metallic halter top + cape fit??? $173. are. you. kidding. me.

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

you open yourself up to the devil by celebrating Halloween in the same way you open yourself up to the devil by celebrating St. Paddy's or Mardi Gras.

if you play ouija or try voodoo, you open yourself up to the devil. if you dress in a slutty costume or take psychedelics in a cemetery, you open yourself up to the devil.

likewise, if you get wasted on Guinness in downtown Savannah, you open yourself up to the devil.

if you twerk half-naked for plastic beads on Bourbon Street, you open yourself up to the devil.

these kinds of bacchanalia are by no means inherent to the holidays in question, and in fact, are extremely recent perversions of traditions which go back centuries. Centuries of Christian history.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

putting my prediction on record now that the coming decade is going to see the rise of viral-marketed fancy at-home water filtration systems, driving and driven by a drastic reduction in the quality of U.S. tap water (given that we are in a 'replacement era' where our current infrastructure is reaching the end of its lifespan--but isn't being replaced). also guessing that by the 2030s access to drinkable tap water will be a mainstream class issue, with low-income & unstably housed people increasingly forced to rely on expensive bottled water when they can't afford the up-front cost of at-home filtration--and with this being portrayed in media as a "moral failing" and short-sighted "choice," rather than a basic failure of our political & economic systems. really hope i'm just being alarmist, but plenty of this already happens in other countries, and the U.S. is in a state of decline, so. here's praying this post ages into irrelevance. timestamped April 2023

[leahaart]

Let👏🏻them👏🏻do👏🏻drag👏🏻

[miwtual]

im so fucking tired of the disrespect gifmakers get on the gifmaker website

[inkskinned]

for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.

i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.

in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.

the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.

i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.

i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.

i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.

the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.

when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.

we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.