#i will word this better eventually

[corviddusk]

Transmasculine oppression functions in two methods

The first is by treating him as a weak and confused woman. He is given space in various communities and groups with the sole intent and purpose to manipulate him into detransition and "fix" him. This is when bigots claim to see them as poor "groomed girls" either groomed by older method 2 trans guys and mascs or transfems who are always painted as predatory.

The second is by treating him as a systemic threat to the cissexist patriarchy, which he is. But this leads to false accusations of predation, danger, and violence, which he is not and does not. No longer is he allowed in "women's groups" they can't pretend he's a woman anymore and their own attempts to force detransition failed. He is danger to other fragile "cis women" and must be destroyed at all costs. He is slated as just as much a danger as transfems at this point. Violence is the only way that he is engaged with.

This dual method of oppression is why so called "women's spaces" (social spaces not medical) that allow in trans men are dangerous. They will inevitably brutalize and cast him aside if their attempts to force detransition through social pressures fail. If he rejects the idea he is still a "female" man then he is no longer of use. To try and push young transmascs who need actual genuine friends and real support not from people who show faux concern you must encourage them to find queer spaces or those that see them as the men or mascs that they are.

This is the framework I was operating on being the case when I spoke about the insidious nature of telling trans mascs that they SHOULD be in those "women's spaces" it is directing them to be groomed and abused, then ultimately abandoned or detransitioned.

These spaces are not safe for my brothers and I'm genuinely deeply concerned at how much people overlook the way they actively play a role in radicalizing them. The reason they're kicked out and abandoned is not because of fear of men it is because trans men prove the idea that men are an inherent born in class wrong. It proves man is just as sociological as all other genders and they are scared of that.

"Transandrophobia" theory is based on believing what TERFs are trying to force transmascs into believing. If you see the posts from TERFs talking about transandrophobia you will realize they're celebrating the faulty theory as it relabels transmascs as "female" it involves them in being the ultimate oppressed group of "wombyn". This is purposeful.

[heartless-brainrot]

so i was planning to do heartless art for pride but i forgot and now its 11:42pm on june 30th so have this for now

i sware ill do something art in july

[shepscapades]

GLAD EVERYONE ENJOYED THE ANDROID INFO UPDATE ABOUT INTERFACING DFGJNDGKGNMXGHNCBNM

[sachart]

In dreams Ronan put them to his mouth

[ducktr0ducin]

Hello! Sorry to bother you, I think your FOP AU about Timmy being the manifestation of the Birthday Celebration is pretty cool and neato! (and funnily adorable because I remembered that was just a disguise costume he puts on a whim in that Christmans Forever episode lmao) I think I have a lot of questions regarding your AU, but I don't want to overwhelm you. So, I'll start with this first.

I was wondering at what age did Timmy become hm, how would you call it..., a magical being? Is it after he no longer has access to his fairy godparents (adulthood) or was it during his teen years or is it from an earlier age?

Also, if you don't mind, how about I request a drawing of Timmy with his fairy family in matching aesthetics to the Birthday Boy design lol? (You don't have to do this if it's too much, I'm just asking for fun hehe.)

Still, cool AU!!! 💖💖💖

Awwwww thank you for the kind words!!! Asks like these are never a bother!

To answer the question: I would imagine it was shortly after he became an adult, my line of logic is how he became a holiday manifestation is “Magic is believing”- Since the other holidays pretty much fully believed Timmy when he said he was the birthday boy, it planted that little seed of magic. And overtime as the other holidays thought more about it/talked more about Birthday Boy he slowly gained the Birthday Magic-

Also I absolutely HAD to draw Cosmo and Wanda meeting Timmy again!! Peri would have probably told them about him after Dev’s failed wish, and they IMMEDIATELY popped over to say hi!

[velvet-apricots]

I don’t know why, but I’ve been thinking about Fenris meeting Emmrich and it just boils down to

Emmrich: Hello, a pleasure I am Professor Emmrich Volkarin. I heard you were friends with Varric. I am so sorry for your loss. I wish I could had the pleasure of meeting him. Fenris: ….. Why are acting you so nice? Do you want something from me, death mage? Emmrich: Ah… No? I just was making conversation- Fenris: If you want conversation, make it with your spirits.

Emmrich, respectfully, does not try to talk to him again.

[irenespring]

Me: This fic needs plot.

My brain: Okay, I understand. The fic needs more wallowing.

Me: No. We need to cut back on the wallowing to get to the plot so this doesn't like three more weeks to write.

My brain. Got it, got it. The fic needs Wilson to have free time so he just walks around and contemplates. Nice long chunk of Wilson's depression and trauma.

Me: No. Not at all. It needs less time reflecting on the past.

My brain: Understood. I have the solution. The fic needs...flashbacks.

Me: Okay fuck it. Fine.

[pup-pee]

sometimes ur sad so u gotta draw kon & krypto while watching yugiohs battle city arc

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Alpha & Pebble my beautifully fucked up boys ! Here’s them fighting because they don’t know how to communicate. Angst, but with some tiny bit of comfort ? Maybe ? I’m not sure it really is comfort but well.

Alpha’s not sure what the Sibling of Sin said, he only caught the tail end of a mean laugh, but it must’ve been about Delta ; it’s the only thing that could get that reaction out of Pebble. Snarl peeling his lips so far back it looks borderline painful, eyes blazing, tail whipping the air, claws extended.

The earth ghoul is about to pounce on the stupid, stupid human, rip them to shreds and risk being sent back to the pit for the offense it represents. Alpha acts on instinct alone.

The fire ghoul barely manages to catch the back of Pebble’s uniform just as the earth ghoul leaps toward the Sibling. Pebble didn’t see Alpha coming, too blinded by rage, and is caught by surprise ; in a second, and despite his vigorous thrashing, Alpha has the earth ghoul in a chokehold, his arm digging into Pebble’s neck in an effort to keep him from committing first degree murder.

The Sibling blanches at the display, finally realizing their stupidity, the amount of danger they’ve subjected themselves to by sheer malice, and scurries away while they still can. 

Alpha curses as he drags Pebble away, sharp kicks surely bruising his legs, claws raking along his arm in an attempt to make him let go. No chance. Alpha only tightens his hold, cutting Pebble’s airways even more off until the earth ghoul’s knees buckle under him and he let himself be thrown into the common room.

Alpha only grants him a few seconds to take deep, gasping breaths before taking two fistful of the front of Pebble’s uniform, hauling him up against the wall ; with the earth ghoul being a good head shorter than Alpha, and pretty light in comparison,  it’s easy for the fire ghoul to pin Pebble there, his feet barely grazing the ground.

« Are you stupid ?! » Alpha growls inches from Pebble’s face.

« Let go you fucking-»

« No, » Alpha grunts, baring his own fangs, « I asked you a question. Are you fucking stupid ?! That what you earth ghouls do, smoke your brains away ?! You know what happens to dumb sons of bitches who harm members of the Church ?! Do you want to be sent back, away from you greenhouse, your home, your pack ?! »

Pebble blinks, momentarily stunned by the reason behind Alpha’s anger, before his face contorts once again and venom creeps back in the pale green of his eyes.

« So you’d let that piece of shit say whatever they want ? Insult Delta whenever they like ? »

So Alpha was right, it was indeed about Delta. The fire ghoul doesn’t get to say what he wants, Pebble is on a roll.

« Yes, of course you would. Pack only matters when it suits you, yeah ? When it’s convenient. But the second protecting it might cause troubles, you back off like the coward you are. Is there any of us you’d take actual risks for ? Is there anyone outside of Omega, oh so precious Omega, you would sacrifice things for ? »

Alpha sees red, Pebble’s word cutting deep, hitting a nerve dead on. How dare he. How dare Pebble question everything Alpha did for the pack ? The fire ghoul doesn’t know if he wants to rip the earth ghoul’s tongue out or curl into himself to sob. 

Pebble opens his mouth to go on, and Alpha is absolutely sure he cannot take a drop more of the earth ghoul’s venom, that infamous venom of his that slithers into your veins, wraps around your heart, squeezes until it bursts.

Alpha throws Pebble to the ground, sits on his chest, raises a fist - aiming for his face, maybe his nose, anything that would make the earth ghoul shut up, shut up, shut up.

That’s when Alpha catches the glimmer of hope in Pebble’s eyes, realization dawning on him with the effect of a cold shower. Pebble itches for a fight. Wants to get hit, beaten up to a pulp, and who better to rile up for that than Alpha, short-tempered, sparring enthusiast Alpha ?

As always, Pebble is seeking what he cannot ask for, and seeking it from Alpha. 

The fire ghoul stills, fist still raised. Pebble waits, tense as a bowstring, eyeing it almost voraciously. But there, under the anger and inexplicable need to be hurt, something fragile, vulnerable hides. 

Whatever the Sibling said, Pebble took it to heart.

Alpha’s eyes slip closed, a shuddering sigh escaping him as he brings his hand down slowly, grabbing Pebble’s jaw firmly, but with unusual gentleness. The earth ghoul stiffens.

« You know damn well I take care of my pack. And, whether you like it or not, you are pack too. So the next time you want to be used as a fucking punching bag, you join me on the mat instead of running your fucking mouth and goading me into damn near killing you. »

Despite the simmering fury in Alpha’s voice, his hand doesn’t tightens, simply stays there, holding.

Pebble’s eyes flash with both desperation and rage.

« Don’t pretend to care- »

Alpha growls again, tail slapping against the floor harshly enough to sting.

« Stop telling me how I feel, Pebble. My feelings are mine, you don’t get to twist them into what’s more convenient for you. »

All the fight seems to rush out of the earth ghoul’s body at that. Pebble’s muscles all let go at once, his face growing weary, almost melancholic. He avoids Alpha’s eyes, nods curtly.

« Got it. »

Alpha can’t help the way his eyebrows skyrocket toward his hairline at that, but doesn’t comment. It’s as close an apology as he’ll get from Pebble.

The earth ghoul is staring at Alpha’s arm, jaw clenching hard. There’s a few rivulets of blood trickling from the claw marks Pebble left on it in his efforts to free himself.

For a moment, they stay frozen like this, something akin to « what now ? » floating in the heavy silence between them.

A door slamming in the distance snaps them out of it. Alpha let go of Pebble, stands up to let the earth ghoul do the same. Pebble runs a hand through his short, messy hair, strands spiking in every directions. 

Sighing heavily, Alpha adjusts his shirt, glad that he wasn’t wearing his own uniform, or else he’d have a lot of explaining to do as to why his sleeve would be in tatters. Again.

From the corner of his eyes, the fire ghoul spies Pebble awkwardly straightening his collar, somehow seeming reluctant to leave. Alpha watches him, and yet, he’s caught completely off guard when the earth ghoul grabs his injured arm, careful to avoid the cuts, eyes glaring daggers at the consequences of his own anger.

The strangeness of the situation keeps Alpha frozen, eyes glued to Pebble’s face. The near permanent crease between the earth ghoul’s eyebrows, the scar cutting through the bridge of his nose, the smattering of freckles across his cheekbones, the scruff eating away at his cheeks, everything is thrown into sharp focus by their sudden stillness.

When the earth ghoul looks up at Alpha, the fire ghoul wonders what he sees. Yellow eyes Pebble’s dying to gouge out ? Already crooked nose the earth ghoul longs to break into an even more unsavory form ? Deep claw marks on his cheek he’d like to extend ? But the look in Pebble’s eyes doesn’t hold any murderous intent. It’s conflicted, confused, the abrupt change in their usual dynamic rendering him just as silent as Alpha. 

For once, they are both out of words. A miracle, really.

Then, Pebble let go so suddenly you’d think Alpha lost control of his fire and inflicted him a third degree burn.

« You should get those checked out, » the earth ghoul mumbles, resolutely staring at his feet.

Alpha blinks, lost for a moment, before remembering his injuries.

« Those are just scratches. »

Pebble scoffs, but doesn’t add anything, fleeing the room without once meeting Alpha’s eyes again.

The fire ghoul heaves a sigh, scrubs his hand over his face. He feels weird, Pebble’s expression when he took stock of the damages he’d done lingering in his mind. 

Alpha hopes Mist will let him share a smoke with her tonight, Satan knows he could use her blunt honesty to understand whatever the fuck just happened.

But first, he has a Sibling to scare the living daylight out of to ensure they won’t breath a word of Pebble’s near slip up.

[weirdosyringe]

final design for my smiler gijinka ^_^

[energeticpoltergeist]

Part 1: Mad King's War

Prologue: Diverged History(pages 5-10)

[converse-luke]

Gale finding journals Astarion and Cazador wrote that have horrific shit in them is a trend in part 2 of this fic apparently.

[squuote]

stringing things together again hm. bashes skull into wall

[headslikekites]

Hello, hello. You seem to be not doing so good which is very understandable. I just hope to cheer you up a bit the same way reading through your blog has cheered me up during very sad times of mine. I figured the best option would be to draw Sigma from BSD since he seems to be your muse.

Sorry that it's sloppy and very amateur; I'm not very good at drawing. Thank you for all the art you let us see, I'm sorry for all the no good things happening to you and for the possibly weird way I'm doing this (I'm new to Tumblr), and please ignore if this makes you uncomfortable!

I've been putting off answering this because I wanted to hold onto it for a bit and give myself time to try and articulate how much it means to hear these words. but I've never been good at articulating my emotions so instead of continuing to put this off I'll just say thank you thank you thank youuuu and reading this Did make me tear up a bit. thnakyou

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.