#i need to move out of the STATE

[lilbreed1ngdoll]

when will my mom get the hint that i dont want her anywhere near my baby. as soon as i see her get close, i take my baby away. stop!!! please, respect it!! go away!!

[suhnshinehaos]

my heart dropped when i read the statement that sm put out re: taeil, genuinely the last thing i expected to read today. i’m shocked, disappointed, but most of all- i’m angry.

angry at what he’s done, angry at seeing some fans defend him, angry at those turning this into a gotcha moment to promote or lift their faves up. please, this isn’t just some discussion on the internet- there is a very real victim, a very real woman at the heart of all this. i hope she gets the justice and healing she deserves.

[xchronicles]

After watching the Screen Rant interview, I want Season 3 of Prodigy without Admiral Janeway or Chakotay appearing at all. Holo Janeway is more than enough. Kate is clearly against J/C for whatever reason, and she even went after Brett for wanting Gwyn/Dal. I'd rather enjoy Season 3 with the Protostar kids only and not get frustrated with the J/C stuff. Please, I'm begging. Brett, my beloved.

Media and art are escapism. We live in super messed up times, and I just want two imaginary, make-believe characters to kiss so my mind can escape into something positive and feel the love that the world is so clearly missing. People find comfort in art and can feel a bit of love through imaginary characters in this messed up world. The rest of Prodigy is about hope; J/C is about (romantic) love, and it's a positive path to take, especially in times where men are being taught to hate women by idiots like Tate. And here you have a character, a man (Chakotay), who gives zero fucks about power dynamics and gender roles. We want them together as a middle finger to the gender roles imposed by social norms. Janeway hates to cook and do house chores, Chakotay does not. Janeway likes to be in command, Chakotay is fine being her support. They are breaking the tiresome stereotypes, and dunking on the shippers for wanting them to be together is just playing into the 'a strong woman can only be strong if she is forever alone' trope. It's an outdated mindset.

That is why Kate. For every girl and woman who was told repeatedly she'll be alone and that no man would want her because she didn't fit the gender role. Because she wanted to be in power and be loved at the same time. For daring to want both. Women can have both. Women are allowed to have both. Being in a romantic relationship is not weak, and it's freaking weird to be saying that having two characters be in a romantic relationship who clearly love each other beyond words would do them a disservice. What does that teach the kids? That you have to choose? That having a powerful bond and a romantic relationship is mutually exclusive? It's weird, and I'm tired of pretending that it's not.

[novelconcepts]

Just remember, kids: most of the time, stupid is how you feel, not who you are.

[spotaus]

The Maskmaker (New Age AU Drabble)

Hiiiii. So, this isn't very long and doesn't do Nightmare or N enough justice, but I wrote this a while ago and my lovely pals looked at me w/ big ol' eyes on my post about posting it, sooooo!!! Here it is!!

This is shortly after Night's coronation and follows Ancha's drabble regarding Ccino + his remaining by Night's side!

   These halls. They were cold. Colder than the rest of the castle.

   Nightmare only knew, thanks to the gentle puff of steam left by his shallow breaths as he stepped down the corridor. The dark, long, corridor.

   He couldn't feel it. No. His sense of warmth and cold had faded almost instantly after eating the apple. The nervous chill in his core had been replaced with a luke-warm air. Like a puddle left after a summer rain. The chill couldn't reach him.

   Still, he wore his cloak. One which Ccino had tailored not a week ago because he feared Nightmare would feel bare without it. His old one used to keep him warm. Ccino was right, of course. Purposeless or not, the new heavy fabric kept him centered. Covered the restless twitching of his tendrils as he spoke with the few he could bring himself to communicate with since the incident.

  

   Now, it's bottom hem was suspended away from the old floors, just barely, by his extra limbs.

   His steps were silent, he wasn't sure when that had begun, but he imagined in this darkness no one would know he was there at all until the Cyan of his eyelight was turned upon them.

   He approached the door. Finally reaching the ornate, carved surface he'd visited only once before. When he and Dream were young. Nim had ordered them to come alone and let the mask-maker measure them. So they'd know when time came for them to commission their own masks. They didn't have to come down, the mask-maker already knew their measurements. They always did.

   His knuckles hovered away from the door. With its carving of that tree, swirling and dancing in the low light his eyelight provided. This space held more lingering emotions than he'd expected. His hand trembled a bit.

   No. He couldn't chicken out. He couldn't go crying, this was important to him. It was his right. It was... the least he could do.

   His fist connected with the door, twice, steadily. The loud sound echoed into the space behind him, and he stood. Prepared to face heckling and anger abd fear, for he wasn't sure the mask maker even knew of his rise to the throne. He hadn't been there, after all. At the ceremony.

   The door swung inward, and... Nightmare found hinself staring down at a monster.

   This monster... was not the one whom he remembered.

   Before, when he was young, he recalled a large, imposing monster. Heavy clay hands that held the pristine masks so carefully. Kind eyes which skimmed sorrowful past him, and handed him that lovingly carved owl mask. The one made simply out of dark wood.

   Now, the monster stood before him, leaning in the doorframe, was not that monster. This one was slightly shorter than him, stocky in the shoulders, and bundled in layers of cloaks and gloves. Their face hid behind the mask of some sort of rabbit, bright, burning lights behind the eye-holes were a soft lavender and blue. Only a lashing tail gave away their species. A skeleton varient.

   "Mask-maker." He greeted, composure renewed.

   The monster blinked, before they widened the door a bit more. A wave of amusement and excitement washed over Nightmare, and he thought he might be sick from just how potent it was.

   "Ah, my King!" They exclaimed, and Nightmare could almost hear the smile in their tone. "I wasn't expecting you so soon after your whole coronation, come in!"

   They darted away from the door, allowing Nightmare to see past them. The room beyond was as he remembered. The large sets of work-benches, suspended candles, piles upon piles of wood. Masks lined every inch of the walls, though now he could see newer ones piling up along shelves and along the stations.

   The monster seemed to round to a large chair, much too oversized for them, and plop down into it. Nightmare drifted inside, closing the door behind him carefully.

   "You royals only come down to see me for masks, that is my job though," They mused. "Or, well, that's what my mentor always said."

   Nightmare drew closer to the opposite side of the table which now separated them. He could see the messy, amalgamated surface of a partially-completed work laying between them. The wood mangled and frayed not unlike torn flesh.

   "I must ask," He knew he had other business and little time, but, "Who are you, mask maker? My mother never mentioned a change in position."

   It would be just his luck that a fraud would be hidden here in the depths. Though, the emotions were simply so delighted. They swirled about, as though every flick of their tail sent another ripple through the air.

   A giggle erupted from behind their mask.

   "Oh, I think I like you already, my king!" They said happily, "Mask-makers have never been asked such a thing by the royals! We have always been known to retire and pass on the mantel without care from you folks."

   They divulged the information so easily, but Nightmare didn't recieve the answer he had asked for. It took a few more breaths before they spoke again.

   "My name is N, my King. Call me as you see fit, I change as easily as replacing my mask." They finally admitted. "King Nim visited me once, two years ago, only to inform me her prince may quickly approach after his coronation. Though, I'm sure you're not the one she meant?"

   Nightmare withheld the hiss which desperately wanted to bubble up in his throat. His tendrils whipped about in frustration. Guilt. Of course they were expecting Dream. He'd figured as much.

   "No matter. I am here to serve my king, and that king is you, my good sir." They dipped their head a bit, "So, what is it you'd like me to carve? A noble wolf? A regal ibis? Something fitting a consort or-"

   "None of that." Nightmare cut them off, his good socket narrowing in disgust. The thought made his stomach churn.

   He thought he'd have to wait for her to speak up again, but found they had quieted and were seemingly awaiting information.

   "My... head of house. Recently promoted as of my ascension." He said, slower. He wouldn't get worked up again, "He deserves only the best, and I know you understand this well."

   N seemed to smile beneath the mask again, their eyelights hidden in thin crescent slits.

   "Describe away, my king!" They exclaimed, reaching out for a scrap of paper.

   Nightmare remembered how he'd been taught. To describe the mask with intention. Feelings and thoughts tucked away into each and every word. Those were supposed to be insightful for the mask-maker. To guide their hand as they carved.

   "This mask. I would like it to be the Visage of a cat. Well-kept, clean, orderly." He spoke, gently, drawing his eye away from the table and to the plain floor were nothing would influence his thought. "A kind face, soft. Trustworthy and bold. Clever. Warm."

   Nightmare wasn't sure what came over him. Descriptions and feelings tumbled from his jaws for what felt like ages. By the time he finished, his throat was raw with emotion. His hands clutched the inside of his cloak like a life-line.

   It was the tapping of N's charcoal stick to her desk which alerted Nightmare. Made his eyelight snap back up to her position.

   Though, she'd already put her sketch down and was up and across the room. Tugging at her piles and piles of enchanted and imported woods. For being a stationary monster, they had strength to move the wood with ease.

   "You've given me the perfect working material, my King! This mask should be done in four-days time." They assured him, not turning around.

   Their emotions read as elation now. A pure, unadulterated joy at the... the way Nightmare had described his mask? He could only imagine his magic intent had something to do with it. Ccino would, hopefully, understand.

   Oh!

   "The mask. You are aware who it is for?" He questioned.

   N hummed, before popping away from the stack of wood with a nice chunk of white-ish wood. It reminded Nightmare of cooked fish flesh, a pristine off-white with an intricate pattern.

  

   "I can only imagine it's that guy? Ccino? Good for him with the promotion, by the way. I'm sure he had his fair share of struggles to get there." N replied.

   Nightmare gave a minute nod. He hated that he had a heavy suspicion as to why N already knew Ccino by name. Nefarious plans set by his mother yet again. Bastard woman.

   He debated staying longer. Watching N strip the bark away or making smalltalk.

   In the end, it was better to leave. His hands were still shaking and his gut felt like it'd spill if he felt one more overwhelming emotion from the craftsman he was standing with. So, he bid them a farewell, promised to return in four days time, and exited from that heavy wooden door.

   The trip would be worth it so long as N delivered. And she would.

[qqueenofhades]

Where is that text post about procrastinating on a task for literal months only to find that it takes less than 10 minutes to complete and is so very easy. Because etc etc I am in this picture and I don't like it.

[queeraliensposts]

Illymation: Don't be a dick to fat people.

The internet: EWWWW SHE'S GLORIFYING OBESITY LET'S DOX HER!!!!!!!

[sesamenom]

Reverse Gondolin AU family portrait

[elllteo]

Creators I love you but it's time to wake up

Among rumors about our tumblr user data being sold off to Midjourney/Generative AI, recent Extremely transphobic events (that have been ongoing) coming to a head, another extremely concerning internet censorship bill being pushed in upper levels of government, and a general air of frustration over how the site belongs to and is operated by perhaps the second stupidest CEO (second only to twitters own) of our age, I'm very done with the last few vestiges of what the old internet held for artists.

And if you're reading this, you probably are too.

I know we're tired. We are all tired. It is not always viable to pack up shop and move, again and again and again.

From tumblr to twitter to anywhere else we've ever grown up posting, things no longer work. Our audiences are kneecapped by aggressive and hostile algorithms, our reach is abysmal - if we aren't shadow-banned or silenced for one (transphobic) reason or another, we're thrust into an ever growing pit of hostility where the only thing that drives clicks is fighting and contention.

We're tired. We're so fucking tired. We aren't businesses, we aren't content mills, we cannot keep this pace that modern social media has set for us, to wring every ounce of creativity out of us to profit from and leave us rotting.

The key to staying afloat here, and I cannot stress this enough, is to stay connected to your peers.

Pack up and move as units if you must. Exodus from the sites that are killing us. Push your entire friend group of artists to move from one site to the next that promises you a kinder experience.

Art drives movements, it drives change, it is all that encompasses being human. If you take that away from the shitty places, they will be left with nothing but a cesspit of inhumanity and the people who follow you will be more incentivized than ever to move with you.

Yes, this is terrifying. There are no guarantees. There never was, and never are, and never will be.

But stay connected. Stay human.

Support each other and be willing to hold hands and jump when we all - as a group - need to jump from the flames we're all trying to convince ourselves wont kill us before rescue comes.

Rescue isn't coming, rescue will be found hand in hand with each other. I'm offering you my hand, please take it. There's always a new start, there are always helping hands reaching for you. You have to look up from the doom-scroll long enough to see and take them.

[thebirdandhersong]

Lol

[eibarain]

I posted this on Twitter yesterday but forgot to do it here

Happy Activation Date to my darling beloved fjfjfjd (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[lesbianralzarek]

jokes aside about how shitty it is to deflect all criticism with "um, im literally neurodivergent and a minor?", the world would be much darker if that wasnt a solid legal defense. schizophrenic 13yos are allowed to crash their parents car into a light pole because they thought it was the devil. shit happens, yanno? your honor please dont be so toughies on them because, you see, theyre literally neurodivergent and a minor. theyre already serving time in hell

[notwhelmedyet]

Hi this Rm67 from Ao3 If I said something that offended you I'm truly sorry. That was not my intention I just thought the scene where Astarion was cuddled up to Karlach was really cute I would never ever use someone else's work without express permission

Your comment was fine. I'm not having Donald Trump's name in the comment section of my queer (?) fanfiction (?) about the importance of restorative justice (?) and not letting our implicit biases against out-groups we find frightening lead us to commit our own violence in the name of 'justice' (?????).

If you don't want people to take your comments as political statements, I highly recommend you use AO3's feature to change your username (see instructions at link). At literally any time you have the ability to change your username to not mention your political views, allowing authors who see your comments to not get whacked in the face with the name of a politician who hates them, their friends and everything they stand for ideologically.

If I might also recommend, just as a general piece of online courtesy: when someone blocks you on one social media website, it can be frustrating. We would all like strangers to like us and want to interact with us. However, it's considered generally even more rude to try and follow them to other websites to get them to explain why they've blocked you. Sometimes you have to let things go.

[mokeonn]

I think that the 2010's media landscape of Buzzfeed articles about plotholes in disney movies, Cinemasins critiques, and Watchmojo Top Ten scenes in movies that make no sense has truely ruined a lot of media. People are afraid that their work will be torn down if they dare leave a single thing up in the air, if they dare ask their audience to suspend their disbelief.

All too often nowadays I see stories (especially fantasy), take the time to explain how every small aspect of the world works and how it all logically makes sense. The constant time stopped to explain why an event happened, how this object works, or why this is important to the characters. It's just really not needed and it honestly makes a lot of stories worse.

I am of the opinion that the best stories truly just drop you into their world and explain nothing. They just take you through the story of this world and you just have to accept it and continue on. "When he became king, the land became barren." I don't want the story to stop and explain why this is, or how it happened, I want us to move on so we can just assume that the king has such rancid vibes that everything died.

[skunkes]

im not going to lie to u i hate change and have always been incapable of having goals on where to live within my own state much less a completely different one but 26 years of this horrible weather that only gets worse has me semi considering moving out of texas. Somewhat.

[fiona-fififi]

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