#if you happen to call yourself

[radiosummons]

Finding out that a terf follows your blog is like the worst fucking personal insult.

Like, bestie, I'm an openly queer/grayspec/trans dude who makes shitposts about my favorite queer coded characters. I've made at the very least three to four different posts about one character in particular having an array of extremely explicit kinks and god knows how many more about another character getting lusted after by literally everyone in their franchise, regardless of any other characters' assumed sexuality/gender identity.

I literally create art and write posts about how certain characters will trigger my gender envy. Like, fuck, I know it's buried deep, but I literally have a post about why I think it's bullshit to claim that the Force would even care about someone's sexuality or gender identity.

What am I doing that makes you think this is a safe space for you?

In conclusion:

GET FUCKED.

[genderqueerpond]

We don't talk enough about the fact that Amelia Pond, s5 Amelia Pond, before the timeline is reset, isn't just a normal orphan. Her parents didn't die, didn't abandon her, and didn't send her away. They never existed in the first place.

And if her parents never existed, then Amelia cannot exist. She is a causal impossibility.

"People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces." A photograph. A face carved into an apple. Yes. Sure.

A child.

Now that's too big, surely.

But that's what she is. She is exactly the same as these things. A trace. An echo of something that could never be, never was, never could have been.

And the universe should never allow it. A whole person, that's just too much. She could not have continued to exist indefinitely, in normal circumstances, after her parents never existed.

In normal circumstances.

Because the Doctor didn't just save her from things coming out of the crack in her wall. He saved her from going into it. And he didn't just save her from the threat of going into it simply because of its vicinity.

No, by arriving when he did, he interrupted a process that was probably already in motion. And then by arriving again only moments later on a cosmic relative timestream (too quickly for the process to complete) and yet in the local relative timestream, years later --- years of a potential future caught midway through the process of rewriting -- he solidified that existence. Amy is a creature from another timeline, caught in amber. The Doctor prevented her from never existing, but only after she could already never exist.

And so, no one around Amelia thinks about it. Neither does she. There's some kind of consciousness block, because if you thought about it, really thought about it, for two seconds you'd realize she cannot exist. And the human mind can't deal with that. So, to protect itself, everyone's brain simply slides off it before ever noticing. They just assume that her existence makes sense, and don't question it, and don't notice what they don't question, that is staring them in the face.

But of course, to some extent they do notice. They can't think it, but they notice subconsciously that there's something they can't think. They notice there's something wrong with her, something uncanny. And they don't like it, and they alienate her even more because of it.

"Does it ever bother you Pond that your life existence doesn't make any sense?"

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

I don’t think we talk enough about how being love bombed can like really fuck you up??? Like yeah is it easy to identify from an outside perspective? Absolutely. But being in it and having someone devote that much time and attention to you (even if it is manipulative in nature) to then having it end abruptly when they’ve gotten what they wanted out of you… 🫠

[oifaaa]

Cass should be batman, but so should everyone else. The rogues upon realising batman is dead should start calling themselves Batman until Batman is just synonymous with being a costumed nuisance. The bats try to rein it in but it’s way too late for anything, not when croc is wearing a child’s mask that only covers his nose. Battle for the cowl revamp where it is every person who cannot mind their own business in Gotham.

The problem with this is you can't convince me bruce hasn't copy righted the batman name he tells the public batman can use it but anyone else has to get permission which like sure the rogues are criminals what's one more crime but bruce has those Disney lawyers which somehow keep showing up in killer crocs sewer for a cease and desist

[writinganon1]

@cokoweee

Ya’ll ever have a dream so lifelike it feels aggressively real until one thing goes a little too wrong and then you start to realize that maybe you’re in a dream but it’s also too real to convince yourself it’s not real that you can’t wake yourself up? 

TW: panic attack, I say gun, uhhh blood ig? Bishop says a kinda weird thing but that's just him bein him

can I say blood? last time I did it marked me as mature...

-

Her heart thumped against her chest, lactic acid building in her legs as she ran. She tapped furiously at her phone, fingers slipping over the screen as she tried to deploy Sheldon. 

Donnie says “no no no” chimed a pixilated picture of Othello, his finger waving back and forth. 

“What the-” She slammed against a wall, her shoulder crunching against the brick. 

His stupid programming on the poor thing to keep Sheldon at his house. Maybe she could override it? 

No, not enough time. She was just going to have to run and hope for the best. 

Her shoulder screamed in protest as she climbed the ladder in the alley. Scrambling over the side of the building to catch her breath, she tapped at the screen again. 

There had to be something she could do to foil his programming. She wiped at her nose, the cold still not quite gone even after days of bed rest. Bullets flew over the edge of the building, seemingly locking on to her body heat. Throwing herself at the ledge at the last second to force the bullets to crash into the wall she coughed violently, phlegm coating her throat.

Stupid sickness. 

Stupid Othello leaving her with the stupid rabbit farmer.

She pushed herself off the ground, arms struggling under the weight of herself. It was as if every muscle in her body was on fire, each fiber screaming at her to stop. She gulped raising her head over the ledge. Agent Bishop was standing on the adjacent rooftop, his face curled into a sneer, eyes unblinking despite the sun in his eyes. 

He waved at her, fingers waggling in the air as he pulled a small gun from his pocket. Aiming it directly at her chest he grinned, his eyes flickering with something distinctly unhuman. 

She stumbled backward, her feet skidding over the concrete as he seemed to lock onto her. Loose rock dug into her knees as she clambered over the rooftop. 

Away.

All she needed to do was get away. 

She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the raised bump of the scar, as she moved.

This was…

This was wrong? 

It didn’t happen this way. 

No. She didn’t need to get away, she needed to get out. 

The bullet ripped into her skin, tearing away at muscle, and shattering the bone in her rib.

She screamed, blood pouring from the gaping hole in her chest, as Bishop moved closer. He walked to her side, footsteps clanking against the concrete. 

Clawing at the ground she dragged her body along the roof, rocks digging under her nails. Bishop laughed, his foot trampling her hand, digging it into the ground. She gasped, breathing shallowly as she fought to get loose. 

He grabbed her hair, wrapping it between his fingers and tightening his grip as he pulled her from the floor. 

“Oh, this is wonderful.” He smiled, voice dripping with venom. “Such a pretty little thing I caught this evening. I’ve been dying to chat with you.” He pulled her hair up, forcing her to rise. “I wonder if she’ll do any tricks?” 

She spat in his face, her ears filled with an all-consuming ringing. 

Away. 

She needed to get away. 

It didn’t matter how. She needed to get away. 

He said something else, flaunting some sort of mechanism he had hidden in his shirt. She tried to focus on his words, but her breathing was too shallow, her limbs too shaky, the ringing too loud for her to hear a word. 

She clamped a hand over her chest, a sorry attempt to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping hole in her body. Cursing softly she watched as the red seeped into a slithering pink fleshy mass. 

She stifled a scream as the pink turned an orange maroon, her own blood fueling some sort of monster. 

“Shhhhhhh.” Bishop whispered against her ear, “It’ll be done soon. Just one quick slash and you’ll be out of my hair for good.” 

The mass jumped forward, faster than she could comprehend, her body spasming in pain as she scrambled back.

Was this the Krang she’d heard so much about after she’d left the jail? Weren’t they supposed to be mindless or something? 

It lunged forward again, tentacles lashing toward her face. Bishop shook her in front of him, like a toy for a dog. 

“Kendra?”  

She screamed as he tightened his grip on her, shaking her around like a bag of flour. The world around her turned hazy, her vision blurring in and out. 

She wasn’t going to go out without a fight. 

Throwing her head back she jammed her skull into his chin, breaking the grip he had on her hair. 

She clawed at the ground, a strange silky feeling coating her fingers. Pushing away the softness of what was sure to be Krang, she kicked at the mass as it wiggled unnaturally. 

“KENDRA!” A familiar voice shouted at her, a gentle three-fingered nubby touch against her arm. 

Her eyes flew open, arms flailing to the sides to swat at what was left of the Krang matter, as hands held her back. She gasped, her chest heaving as a sinking feeling hit her gut. Dread splashed over her head like a wave, drowning her, leaving nothing but fear.

Eyes widening she looked next to her for Tello, horrified as darkness encroached on her vision, leaving her staring through a pin hole. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she gasped for air, her chest shuddering to keep up with her breathing. 

It hurt. It hurt so bad. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He whispered, hand placed against her back. “It’s ok you’re home. You’re with me.” 

She jerked backward. He was loud. So so loud. Even with the ringing in her ears, he was too loud. 

Breaths were punched from her lungs faster than she could finish taking them in. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes blew wide. Her chest tightened, lungs twisting as she shook. 

She’s dying. She has to be dying. There’s no other explanation. 

Dead in her room from a nightmare-induced heart attack,  

Her eyes flickered back and forth over the room, not focusing on anything, just wildly scanning for danger she knew wasn’t there. Willing her arm to move, she let out a chocked warble. 

The room seemed to melt around her. Things blurred together, a fuzzy abstract painting of almost-real-life. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tightened her muscles. 

Her whole body shook as she tried to take steadying breaths. 

“Did you know softshell turtles only have half a plastron?” 

She was in the middle of dying. 

She most definitely did not need turtle facts right now. 

“Technically a full one, but it’s covered by skin, rendering it effectively useless for plastron purposes.” He shrugs. “Same deal as the shell.” 

She looked at him, confusion breaking through the panic. 

“Makes us really flexible though. Wanna see?” 

He got off the bed, walked to the middle of the room, and bent backward. He smiled upside down at her from the floor and smoothly brought himself back up. 

“Pretty neat huh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Bet no other turtle you meet could do that.” 

Amusement rippled through her as she watched him demonstrate his stretches and various yoga poses.

“I’ve never met another turtle like you.” She breathed, some of the panic melting away. 

“Precisely! No one can do it like me!” He said, pointing his finger at her triumphantly before his face softened. “ We starting to feel a bit better?” 

She brought her thumb and pointer finger close together. A little 

He nodded. “Am I good to come back up or do you need some space?” 

She patted the bed next to her, inviting him closer. She waited until he was seated comfortably before slumping against his shoulder, exhausted. 

He shifted slightly, reaching for his phone with one hand, the other wrapped around her. He let them sit for a moment, reminding her to breathe every few seconds before Sheldon zipped into the room. 

He whispered something to Othello before zooming out of the room. She watched passively as it happened, her body still not quite connected to her soul. 

Sheldon returned moments later, a bag of ice, a bottle of water, a cookie, and tub of lavender lotion in his little propeller arms. 

Othello took them from him, patted his head, and shooed him away. Taking one of the ice cubes he flattened out her hand and placed it in her palm. 

She jerked slightly at the sensation of cold in her hand, surprised when he placed another in her palm. 

“Focus on the melting.” He said, voice low and gentle. 

The ice filled the lines of her hand and dripped over the sides and down her arm. She shivered as the water pooled in her hand. Othello grabbed the cookie from the pile he had created and broke off half to give to her. 

“Thanks?”

He watched her carefully. “What does it taste like?” 

“A cookie?” She said through a mouthful, her hands still full of TV static. 

“I need details.” He pressed. 

She paused, taking a moment to consider the flavors in her mouth. “Vanilla, chocolate chips.” She took another bite. “ Like I left it in the oven a minute or two too long and overcooked them just slightly.” 

She’d have to make another batch, this time keeping an eye on the time. 

He pressed an uncapped water bottle into her hand. “Drink.” 

She pressed the bottle to her lips, feeling the way the cold blossomed against her skin as she held it there. Quietly observing the way she could feel it go down her throat and into her stomach. 

“Are we feeling more alive?” 

She nodded, running her hand along her thigh to feel the fabric of her pajama pants as she pressed her head against his side. 

“Good.” He murmured, sleep creeping into his voice. “You had a panic attack I’m pretty sure.” 

“...Sorry it was for something stupid.” 

“I get worked up over stupid stuff too.” He mumbled, eyes half closed. 

“Your stuff isn’t stupid.” She countered. 

“Then neither is yours.” 

She stopped, lifting her head to look up at him.

He grabbed her hand, flexing the fingers for her. “You feel ok?” 

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly. 

He nodded and guided her to a lying position. “Tell me five of your favorite things.” 

She paused, looking around the room. “Hmmmmm. You.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Uhhh, lavender. The color purple. Satin jackets. Baking. Messing around in the lab. Oh, I guess that’s more than five.” 

He tapped her shoulders rhythmically, “You can keep going if you need to.” 

She took in a deep breath. “I think I’m ok now.” 

“Positive?” 

Nodding she pulled the blankets over herself. What she really needed was rest. She was so exhausted from the whole ordeal that the idea of doing anything else felt impossible. 

He got off the bed again, searching beneath the bedframe for something before he pulled a large purple blanket from under the bed. She blinked in surprise as he placed it over her, a weight holding her down to the bed. 

“I should’ve mentioned it was weighted.” 

She pulled her hand out to give a quick thumbs up as he climbed back into bed. She shifted to hold out her arm for a hug. He smiled and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“You smell like you’ve been using my soap.” She grumbled against his plastron. 

He shrugged. “ I like the way you smell.” 

Rolling her eyes she tugged the blanket higher over her shoulders smiling as soft chirping filled the room, the sound he always made right as he fell asleep. 

“Good night Tello.” She whispered.

His plastron vibrated as he churred back, gently running circles through her hair. 

She was home. And she was safe.

~

squad don't write stuff at four AM I'm pretty sure this only makes sense to me at this point. Anyway I was listening to my pretty princess playlist while writing this 💁‍♀️

the reason why this was written is in the tags btw

[vulpinesaint]

back on the topic of eddie brock never being the first choice. crazy to me to think about the origin of the venom symbol which is that the symbiote Was With Spiderman First. the venom symbol is a slightly creepier version of the spiderman symbol with an extra bend in the legs cause it's the symbiote's best approximation of what it thought spiderman wanted. and when spiderman rejects the symbiote and venom shows up it's still the same suit just on a different person. the symbiote learned emotions from peter parker and it is angry and hurt at not being wanted but it stays in the form it thought he wanted... peter parker disarms eddie brock once by telling the symbiote that he wants it back and attacking once the symbiote starts to leave... eddie has such a hard time throughout the comics with the fact that the symbiote Will Leave Him if prompted by the right person. and be so honest. what would you do if you were eddie brock and no matter where you went or what you did there was a symbol that you were somebody else's second choice emblazoned across your chest

[lyriumsings]

I keep seeing people talk about Palestine as if all hope is lost like they’re already gone and “the least we can do it remember them” and quite frankly I reject that. These people are fighting for their lives demanding the world to pay attention to them. Demanding their freedom and their right to exist on their own land. In light of the absolute atrocity that is happening in Rafah I am urging everyone to remember why we’re protesting and that these people ARE HERE. They’re alive, they’re real, they have a beautiful culture that needs to be witnessed and celebrated so here are some Palestinian creators you should follow because Palestine is not lost. It is not an empty land that’s gone. They will never be gone and we should all keep fighting until Palestine is free and not a second before because Palestine WILL be free again. I’m focusing mostly on Palestinian creators on tiktok because I think it’s important to see the physically and listen them and just acknowledge that they’re people, they should have linktrees to their other social media. I encourage you to visit their pages and interact with them because they are also being censored especially on tiktok. My platform isn’t big here so please feel free to reblog and also add more links, I would love to follow more Palestinian creators as well!

None of us are free until we all are. From the river to the sea. 🇵🇸🕊️🍉

@/mxriyum - a Palestinian woman who shares her amazing recipes passed down from her mother. She hasn’t posted in a while but there are many Palestinian recipes on her page that are absolute delicious. Please give them a try.

@/anat_international - a Palestinian woman giving updates on what is happening in Gaza but also shares about Gaza before the genocide. She is currently being heavily censored by tiktok for talking about the genocide and is doing more “influencer” like videos to beat the algorithm. So she’s sharing more stuff about the culture like Tatreez clothing, and organizing pottery painting sessions with people who are palestinian and allies. Extremely informative! She’s taught me so much.

@/sammyobeidthem - a Palestinian man who is a comedian. Genuinely so funny! And proudly Palestinian and talks about Palestine in his sets!

@/elyanna - a Palestinian singer. Her voice is insanely gorgeous. She has a song that has not been released on spotify called olive branch that is about the ongoing conflict in Gaza.

@/monamakeupdoll - a Palestinian make up artist, she’s absolutely gorgeous! She share tips and tricks and make up brands that support Palestine!

@/thatfalahigirl -A Palestinian Influencer she has a link in her link tree to purchase a Keffiyah if you haven’t yet there is even a discount! All proceeds go to Gaza via Pious Projects! She shows various ways to wrap it and shares her cultural clothes and I learned what dabke is because of her and it looks like so much fun!

@/amalzhamm - A Palestinian influencer she posts about her lifestyle and food and her family and it’s just so important right now to see happy Palestinian people. Palestinian mothers and fathers and children just existing. Like all of us do every day. And she shared this absolutely beautiful video of what palestine is like.

I’m going to end with this next one the very first person I saw on tik tok that educated me through his videos on Gaza and Palestine in October last year.

@/iamsbeih - a Palestinian influencer he posts about what is happening right now and what has been happening to the Palestinian people for over 70 years. He talks about his own family and his roots in Palestine the correct way to pronounce Gaza and Palestine. Just so much crucial information and i’m so grateful for him being willing to spend the time making these videos to educate people like me. He even posted a couple of palestinian songs (iirc they’re folk songs a lot of Palestinians in the comments know them) recently and they’re very beautiful.

Thank you. Free Palestine.

[sergle]

i'm mixing up a bottle of polish bc i have half a bottle of a beige shade I really hate-- and I really want to make... a dupe... for the nail color of that oc in the tom cardy vids. val I think. with buttons.

this is what I'm working with rn

[dreamyintersexouppy]

idk i do like hearing peoples perspectives and arguments about transfeminism, but i believe what i believe about it because the arguments for it are effective and the evidence we have supports their conclusions. yea they also help me conceptualize events in my life through a transfeminist lens but that is what theoretical frameworks are For, they begin with the evidence and describe the experience.

i think semantic arguments and talk of empty unity and dismissing through sexualization are just as much tactics of argumentation and to me they're are highly ineffective in doing anything but making the people using them look good to an uninformed observer. its the reason we say a lot that some people here have a "vibes based politics" because it's clear from their arguments and rhetoric that they think of these arguments as a way to display an image rather than to actually have a discussion.

thats why im pissy and get upset and block people, they're just wasting peoples time for their own egos rather engaging with any of these concepts or acknowledging that what they know might not be totalizing. the desperation to have a perfect unsullied and intelligent image is why posts like mine pointing out a subtle dogwhistle will get backlash that amounts to telling me i'm making it up. i am communicating to them that there is a piece of knowledge that they might not have considered or even known is offensive to them so they reach for reactionary defenses instead of treating the trans woman in front of them like a person

[fisherrprince]

some of you don’t know what “bad writing” is you just take the thing you like that sometimes makes weird or silly decisions with its plot and call it bad to save face so you won’t be embarrassed when someone notices

[gundamthey17]

Cursed suggestion: someone calls Edwin "Ed"

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry

( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)

(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Jumping onto your post about Tommy and cancel culture. People need to remember the general audience for 9-1-1 is people in their forties and fifties, who most likely did shitty things very similar to the things Tommy did in the begins episodes at one point in their lives, then grew and changed in the same way he did. So the notion that the show would circle back to before this obvious growth and portray him as some sort of irredeemable monster is laughable. Because they would be alienating a big chunk of their audience by doing that.

Post that Anon is talking about for reference (it could also be this one but the other one links back to this one anyway)

This is exactly why I have a love-hate relationship with Josh's monologue from Episode 6!! Because it is absolutely true that younger queer people (or queer people who came out in more recent years) who haven't learned their history could never understand the kind of things people had to do to protect themselves. And I immediately clocked that the whole plotline about Abby was supposed to be an indirect explanation for why Tommy acted the way he did in the flashback episodes and it was actually the writers subtly speaking to the viewers who still didn't understand. And that's such an important conversation to have but I don't know why they didn't just make the episode about that instead of bringing Abby into it.

Like, it would have been so much more impactful and just as easy if, instead of Tommy offhandedly mentioning he was Abby's ex-fiance, Chim and Hen were joking about how Tommy used to act when Gerard was captain of the 118. And instead of Buck not understanding why a gay person in the 2000s wouldn't feel safe enough to come out, he could wrestle with the fact that Tommy had once been a bigot who hurt his friends and we could see him work through that with the viewers.

I dunno if they just didn't know how to write that or if they're afraid they wouldn't be able to redeem Tommy to certain viewers if they acknowledged that part of his backstory and preferred to just keep ignoring it in the hopes that people would just move on. But the fact is that Tommy's story is relatable to so many people who watch 9-1-1 and I'm sure a lot of them were excited to see that portrayed on TV. And I'm just really sad for those people who have to see other fans act like they don't deserve to be happy.

Queer history isn't all drag queens and Stonewall riots. It's also people like Tommy who had to hide who they were and do shit they shouldn't have because not everyone is brave enough to throw the first brick. Even today, being queer in real life isn't always like Heartstopper or Buddie fanfictions. Sometimes it's scary and it's messy and there are so many good people who do a lot of bad shit out of fear. And maybe you don't think that's right but it happens and those people deserve the chance to redeem themselves and be a part of the community. It's time we start telling their stories too, not just the perfectly noble ones.

[dykedvonte]

I like to think in the P.E au that Anya and Curly specifically get haunted hard by Jimmy's weird reality crossing guilt manifested.

It's targeting them because Jimmy's guilt grows more around them. The idea of him acting and playing nice despite what he did. It's like a buffet that allows it to pick from their plates.

Anya sees this stagnant version of her, blood from her mouth, clutching her stomach with a bottle of pills in her other hand. She's talking about not being heard, a pixel, relief from a burden. She tries to ask a question and it's never the right one. She's not understanding but in a way, she's getting that this version of her is in pain. She tries to help, extends a hand and asks how she can help, stop it. She stares and there's utter despair and disappointment in her eyes.

What did you do?

Curly sees this burnt mangled thing. But he can't call it that. Even with no skin and chipping teeth, covered in sullied bandages and smelling of death overdue, he can see his face. He can recognized that eye, he stares at it a lot in the mirror, usually a second one is attached but he digresses. They are just watching, staring and unmoving. He asks himself what happened, how can he help and his own retched mangled voice comes out from a empty maw.

I told you.

They have no idea what it really means. They don't know who to tell. Flashes of a life they don't know or maybe a future they haven't lived yet. Perhaps they treat it as their own minds trying to tell them something. They bare that burden themselves and that alone makes it heavier. Plumper. More appetizing to the guilt causing it.

Tragically that guilt is not their own.

[nota1eks]

why did he say this. and why did we let him get away with it.

[annie-manga]

So, in light of recent/current events- specifically on the topic of homonationalism, I'd like to bring your attention to this song that came out in 2018: