#in that much of it was appropriated

[littlemizzlinguistics]

Studying linguistics is actually so wonderful because when you explain youth slang to older professors, instead of complaining about how "your generation can't speak right/ you're butchering the language" they light up and go “really? That’s so wonderful! What an innovative construction! Isn't language wonderful?"

[that-butch-archivist]

"Lesbian Weddings" by Wendy Jill York

source: The Femme Mystique, edited by Lesléa Newman

[inkskinned]

idaho is already moving to repeal same-sex marriage. they say it's an overreach of the governmental power, and that the law should be determined by "state's rights".

trump is expected to sign an executive order banning trans women in women's sports. in the article i've linked there, he notes that the "biggest hand" (most applause) he gets is when he attacks trans women. isn't that interesting.

i know my own father voted for him. my own father, radicalized by podcasts and bad youtube, voted for this; felt smug about it. he genuinely believes the dems want to "put christians in camps." as if the dems could ever get off their silken asscheeks and actually do anything. i wish they had strong enough messaging to be misattributed like this.

my girlfriend and i worked the polls on election day, counting ballots. my father was eating noisily beside us. "see? you're freaked out about nothing." after all, i live in massachusetts: beautiful, expensive, no-working-transportation MA. the only state to go all-blue.

"if it's state's rights, you'll be fine," he said. i'd been sworn at a few days before this. a year ago almost to the day, i got hit in the head with an empty beer bottle. he said i was being dramatic. after all, first-adopter "the gay state" Massachusetts would rather explode than get rid of same-sex marriage. so what should i care, after all.

this man is a deacon. i guess he expects me not to get out of the car in any red state. i guess he thinks my relationship dissolves across certain borders. he doesn't see why it's concerning that i can't leave, because why would i want to. who wants to go to idaho? who cares about the real, living, breathing people in idaho.

(but then again: who cares about the real, living, breathing humans on deportation planes. they're not us. after all, my father came here legally. i am an american citizen because of birthright citizenship. i am even debating this because he immigrated.)

i texted my mom about it. i feel sick. no matter how much activism and research and outreach i do: it's always shocking to see a room full of people who hate you so much that they take legal action against you. on my small ex-work-laptop, i watch the shaking hands of people in idaho begging their representatives to reconsider. the fear in their voice is palpable. no person should have their relationship threatened this way. the motion still passes, 46-24.

it's all just happening so fast. i feel i am pushing my hands through glass pieces, watching the cuts before i feel them.

people often reference "first they came for..." when stuff like this happens, and while that's fair - there's a very quiet part of me that always says they're already at your door, you complete idiot. the same force that governs trans women's bodies will also be used against cis women. the censorship about supposed "DEI terms" will also be used to stifle science in general.

it won't just be idaho.

[teaboot]

My brother took me to see sonic 3 and in honour of my first sonic experience I have created my very own self-insert sonic OC

He’s gonna go on so many normal adventures with his new friends Sonic and Tails

[edgebug]

my favorite movie as a little kid (as in the movie came out the year i was born) was disney's pocahontas. this is probably bc there were pretty ladies in it and also a raccoon

anyway shoutout to my mom who sat me down and explained to me as soon as i understood spoken language--in child-understandable but blunt terms--that while the movie was very loosely "based on historical events," it outright lied a lot about those events. she explained that the real Pocahontas was a little girl and the real john smith was the actual bad guy. she explained gnarly concepts and ugly truths to me in a simplified but not censored way. and i understood it!

(and now as an adult i know that movie is a total shitshow that should never have been made)

anyway. the point is. talk to your kids about shit because they can understand more than you give them credit for

[queencaramilflinda]

I don’t know if any non-Jews noticed this in the last d20 ep but Brennan has changed how he refers to Gulsum, the Mordred Manor real estate guy, from golem to construct! When Gulsum was first referenced in sophomore year he was called a flesh golem, but in junior year he has been called a flesh construct. In episode 12 of FHJY Brennan even made sure to correct himself when he misspoke and said golem instead of construct, which proved to me this was an active effort on his part.

The term golem comes from Jewish mysticism and has religious connotations so some Jewish people find it offensive when the term gets co-opted into fantasy settings without regard for the original source. It’s cool to see Brennan moving away from that and trying to find less loaded terms to use instead, like construct.

[transsongtaewon]

[canisalbus]

I tried to draw sheep Machete and goat Vasco (but I am not good at drawing goats, at all)

.

[katabay]

THERE AIN'T NO ATLAS, KID. NEVER WAS.

if you peel him back far enough, there's nothing but a pile of theater masks

like, it's really fun how fontaine starts spiralling out the closer jack gets to him in the final arc of the game and returns to appropriating the image of family (the fake family in the beginning, the flawed father position later) to try and appeal to jack in some way but it's like. buddy. baby. you already took off your mask. anything you try and put on after this is going to come across as cheap and desperate. the magic is gone! and personally? I'm hooting and hollering

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app / insta

[mythalism]

genuinely curious how the writers and larger dragon age audience would treat thom rainier if instead of being appropriately* repentant and putting himself in prison he blew up a major orlesian government building to instigate a chevalier rebellion or tried to have someone do some necromantic blood magic ritual involving uncertain danger and possible sacrifices to bring the innocent children he ordered killed back to life

[itsmetheabnormalone]

Saw someone say on twitter „luke experienced subdrop and needed aftercare“ and I haven’t stopped thinking about this video/interview/comment bc I REALLY hope the producers are aware how much their actors are doing for this show and are taking proper care of them (e.g. having competent intimacy coordinators).

[ryuucae]

Entry for a Lucina zine from last year; I'm still quite fond of the composition!

If interested in leftover sales, please take a look at the project account here ^^

[inkskinned]

the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.

capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.

now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.

and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.

and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.

and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".

it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"

[the-one-eyed-seer]

“Love and light” this “spending time with family” that. Chanukah is about stomping on people who encroach on your boundaries. Wishing everyone a very don’t touch me Chanukah

[beggars-opera]

gotta be one of my favorite genders

[zeropro]

My first fanfiction! It's Starscream's origin story, for my Trine AU. I hope you all check it out~

Full chapter below cut: (tw: abuse, assault, SA adjacent language)

Starscream: Origins

She loved Starscream, regardless of what anyone would say. It may not have been her hand that placed his spark into his frame, but she had selected the model in which that spark would be placed, and it was her credits that paid for that spark to be thawed. As a mechanoid race, Cybertronians did not form parental bonds in the way some organic lifeforms would, but from the moment she laid eyes on him, she had loved him as her own. 

Dim optics gazed down at the contract laid out in front of her. She had known this day would come, and if she felt a distinct pang in her spark, she had only herself to blame. She studied the glyphs of his designation displayed on the datapad form: Starscream. It was a beautiful name, as was everything about him; his laugh, his snark, his hunger for knowledge, all the way down to his lithe yet powerful frame.

It was a seeker frame. A warframe. Constructed cold off of assembly line blueprints like every other mecha in his class. Generic and inferior, her peers had warned her. Just another one of those mindless knock-offs. A brute. How laughable it all sounds to her now.

After all, Starscream was a perfect specimen in every way, healthy and beautiful and strong. It was a stark contrast to her own traitorous frame.

Then again, it was because of this cursed illness that she had commissioned Starscream’s creation in the first place, and every moment since then had been an absolute joy. She remembered his first flight, his excitement and how beautifully he cut through Cybertron’s sky in his jet mode. She thought fondly of the way his faceplates would scrunch up in concentration when presented with an equation he couldn't solve, and how adamantly he refused help until he had thoroughly exhausted his processor. She recalled how desperately he would plead with her to take him to Iacon, to Vos, to anywhere there were people and culture and life. He would have loved the bustle of the city. 

 Allowing herself a sad smile, she let the memory files play unbidden in her mind as she picked up the stylus. Their time together had been so short, but she had surely made it count. 

With considerable effort, Cryak sealed the contract with her glyphs. Yes, she would cherish those memories for a long time to come.

~-~-~

“Cryak… What’s going on here?”

Starscream stood gripping the frame of the medbay door, his peds planted firmly just outside the threshold. He could feel the hand on his shoulder tighten slightly, urging him forward, but he refused to budge. 

Unease had latched onto his processor the moment he realized they were heading to a different (much more isolated) location than he was accustomed to, and the feeling only compounded at what greeted him inside. Two, not one but two, medical berths were set up in the center of the tiny room, unfamiliar instruments and displays clustered around both. The doctors (he assumed they were the doctors) both wore full-cover face masks, and their paint had been blacked out. Whether as some form of safety precaution or to hide their identities, it was uncertain, but neither option felt particularly comforting at the moment.

From the way their faceless helms inclined expectantly towards him, it was clear one of the berths was meant for him.

Starscream did not like check-ups at the best of times. A sudden, unexpected, and unexplained medical procedure being sprung on him was downright unacceptable. He would at least require an explanation before he would allow them to proceed.

A digit curled under his chin, gently turning his attention away from the operating theater and onto his mentor’s face. She gave him a reassuring smile as her thumb caressed his cheek.

“Everything will be alright, love. Don’t you trust me?”

Something in his processor stalled at that. “Of course I trust you,” he said, and it had to be true because despite her non-answer, he followed her into the room.

Hesitating at the side of the berth, he stood contemplating it for a long time before he turned to his mentor.

“Where is Pharma? I would like to speak with him first.” It was a reasonable request. Starscream had a right to consult his primary physician before undergoing any sort of mystery medical practice. 

Cryak was already being helped onto the adjacent berth, and one of the doctors inclined it slightly so she could more easily converse with her ward.

“Ah, Pharma won't be joining us, but rest assured we have consulted with him on this procedure.”

“And what exactly is this procedure for?” 

“Starscream, please don’t be difficult.”

It was worth a shot.

Cryak was now hooked up to all the necessary equipment, and Starscream still couldn't quite deduce what it was they were planning to do. Once again, every optic in the room turned on him expectantly and, suddenly feeling foolish, he slowly gripped the side of his berth and hoisted himself onto it.

The moment he swung his legs up, a set of panels near his ankles sprung open, revealing a set of stasis cuffs built into the berth. Two more identical panels opened by his waist, where his hands would be. 

Starscream was immediately on his peds again, backing away from the startled doctors.

“They’re going to restrain me?!” he screeched, panic twisting in his tanks.

Cryak sighed, as if he were the one being unreasonable. “They won't have to if you just calm down.”

“I can't calm down! Not until you tell me what we’re doing here!”

“Starscream–“

“No! You know I hate medical procedures. I at least deserve to know what they’re going to do to me first!”

Cryak held him in a hard stare, which he returned defiantly, not bothering to hide his discomfort. It didn’t take too long before her expression finally, predictably, softened in resignation.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. You do deserve to know.”

Starscream’s stance relaxed slightly at that, but he continued to inch towards the exit.

“I didn't want you to worry, but there's no easy way to say it. I’m dying, Starscream. The doctors say I may have less than half a deca-cycle left.”

Starscream’s wings hiked up in surprise. “But that’s…I thought…”

“That we had more time? Yes, so did I, love. So did I… You see, that is the problem with science. You think you understand a mech’s function and so you command life. You think you understand an illness and so you predict death. But all science really does is scramble for a retroactive understanding of unrelated data points. The future remains indeterminable, and death forever the impatient thief.” There was a bitterness in her voice that he knew well, it was always there when she spoke of her illness. “I was so close, too, so close to finding a cure. Another few hundred vorn or so and we could have done this properly… but no. No, we won't have that time.” Her voice was so soft now, she might as well have been talking to herself.

“Of course, that is why I had you created.” Her attention snapped back onto him, and something in her optics made his plating crawl. “You see, I knew from the outset that time was against me, so my team and I have been developing this…procedure, for the better half of my dysfunction. A procedure that could grant me the time I need to finish my work…one that requires your participation.”

“I don’t understand.” He felt the door press up against his back.

“Starscream. This procedure could save my life.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

But he already knew the answer. Because Starscream loved Cryak, and if there was ever a chance to save her, all she had to do was ask and he would jump at the opportunity. There was only one reason she would have felt the need to hide, one reason she would fall silent now.

“…Cryak, what’s going to happen to me?”

“I’m so sorry, love.”

Like scrap she was.

Starscream spun around, ignoring the painful jolt as his wing smacked the door he was now trying desperately to open. It had been locked, and ripping the keypad from the wall did nothing, so he dug his claws directly into the metal and simply tore at the seams. 

One of the benefits of having a frame that was originally built for fighting wars: he was deceptively strong for his size.

Unfortunately, as a flight frame he was also alarmingly light, as he soon found out when blackened servos hauled him into the air before he could properly rip the door off the wall. Hissing and spitting and flailing his limbs, Starscream was suddenly fighting for his life. Despite being doctors (allegedly), both mechs were heavy set grounders standing at least half a head taller than Starscream, and they weren't shy about using that crushing bulk against him. Unable to think through his panic or see through his tears, he was easily wrestled into submission.

“S-stop, you’re hurting me!” he cried as they dragged him back to the berth.

“Be careful with him!” Cryak growled from where she lay, scanning his frame for damage as they strapped his wrists and legs down. The stasis cuffs emitted an energy field that burned his plating and sapped his strength, but he continued to struggle feebly against the restraints. 

The doctors immediately got to work. Starscream squirmed as he felt their hands travel up and down his frame, hooking him up with all manner of wires and invasive patch codes. Panels to access ports he didn't even know he had were forced open and thick cords penetrated his frame, giving them direct access to his systems. He had never felt so violated before in his function.

“You know I love you, right?”

Starscream whipped his head around and stared uncomprehendingly at his mentor. How could she say something like that after this betrayal? 

“You can't imagine how much it hurts me to see you like this.” 

How could she think anything could make this alright?

“But you have to understand…”

How could she…?

“I would do anything it takes to survive.”

How could she?!

A sudden strain in his systems dragged his processor back to his frame, and to his horror, his chest compartment began to transform out without his consent.

“W-what’s happening?!” It hurt, was it supposed to hurt? “What are they doing to me? Cryak, S-stop this, please! Cryak! I…I don't…ahk!” 

With a hiss, the last bit of plating forced itself apart and just like that the painful pressure in his chest gave way to the feeling of being intimately and dangerously exposed. Starscream gasped as he took in the sight of the shimmering glow emanating from his chassis for the first time. It was his spark.

“Manual spark chamber access complete. We are ready for extraction.”

Starscream exploded in a flurry of outrage, screaming profanities as he redoubled his efforts to escape. Monitors flashed red as he twisted violently against his restraints, his vents coming out in stuttering sobs as he lost himself to the blind panic.

“He’s going to hurt himself like this. Should we put him into medical stasis?” one of the doctors asked, turning to Cryak.

“No, please!” Starscream craned his neck toward his mentor, pleading optics blown wide. She frowned sympathetically. 

“It’ll be much easier on you if you were unconscious, love.” 

But then his chance of escape would go from little to none.

“Please, don’t,” he begged, “I’ll be good, I promise!“ He searched desperately for the right words. “I don’t want to be alone…!”

Cryak nodded, and told the doctors that stasis wouldn't be necessary. As they discussed how best to proceed, he lay back down in an attempt to appear calm, his processor frantically assessing all possible options. The stasis cuffs made him too weak to rip the berth itself apart like he did the door, but he still retained a certain range of motion. He could slip his legs out of the clamps if he could move his body back, but the cuffs around his wrists hindered him. No matter how hard he strained against them, neither the cuffs nor the berth would give.

Something had to give.

He chanced a quick glance at Cryak. The sorrowful expression on her faceplates made him instantly regret it, and he quickly looked away. If he were to escape, he would be condemning her to death. Despite everything, he did care for her; she was still his creator, his mentor, his friend.

“I really am sorry, my love.”

“Yes…so am I.”

It was over so fast. No one expected him to tear his own hands off, so by the time he had transformed and shot through the damaged door there was nothing left of him besides a pair of servos still held tight in the stasis cuffs, a puddle of energon dripping to the floor, and the haunting screams of his mentor echoing in his wake.

They did share one thing in common.

Starscream would do anything it takes to survive.