#into a void that doesn't respond

[anticidic]

this is like the 4th time I'm writing a scene in a cemetery across all my fics I'm beginning to sense a pattern

[uncanny-tranny]

I always feel like a broken record for saying this, but there is literally no form of transphobia that is acceptable. All transphobia is harmful - all forms of bigotry toward a group for features they cannot change (in this case, being trans) is harmful. It doesn't matter what gender a trans person is, it doesn't matter if they are a Good Person, it doesn't matter if you like them or want to see them happy. None of that matters because transphobia is transphobia is transphobia.

[badjokesandbones]

maaaan its so hard when you wanna talk about a piece of original fiction in general, but especially when you're shy, and the subjects and themes are like a really raw, weird, personal thing so there's no like...casual way to talk about it?

like how tf do you bring up a slowburn horror/romance about "it is what it is"-ing and overworking yourself into a catatonic survival state in the face of trauma? With semi-nonhumanoid/objectum monsterfucker shit it in that centers around pain?

And its not even explicit or horny????

WHOMST DO I TALK TO ABOUT THIS???? WHOMST IS THIS FOR????

[imadetheline]

ok don't know if anyone is going to see this but since ace attorney is trending rn I thought I'd ask:

also someone pls lmk is the anime worth watching? at all?

[myeoomski]

I NEED to paint whizzer. Yes or no?I NEED TO DRAW GRRRRR

[transgender-catboy]

ugh

[giantkillerjack]

Your stance on the Dunmeshi queerbait stuff is a bit selfish. Wanting this one manga to go exactly the way you want is a dangerous path - the way you phrase it is so entitled, making it clear it's not about consuming media about lesbians, but making one specific work suit exactly what you want. So many yuri mangas are written by sapphic women. It's a shame your stance is how it is.

And bastardizing the term queerbaiting does no good, either. Neither does the japanese manga market. You should research more before making such hurtful posts.

Hope you have a great day anyway.

[Anon is referring to this post, I believe.]

I mean, one of us certainly IS acting very entitled and weird about the media they like, and it ain't me. Like, I think you just have associated this piece of media with your own identity in an unhealthy way that makes you react to criticism of it with intense defensiveness. You don't own Dungeon Meshi. You aren't Marcille. Dungeon Meshi is NOT a yuri manga; it's a beautiful manga with either sapphic queerbait or a woefully underdeveloped queer relationship at its center.

Maybe if you had an argument besides "it does no good" to criticize it, but you don't. So.

Smh, it's a "dangerous path" - I'm screenshotting that bc I know it'll make my wife laugh. Like, friendo, wanting a piece of media to be better isn't dangerous. But calling someone selfish and hurtful for criticizing media while offering no clarifications as to who I've hurt or how (any fellow sapphics bleeding out in here? Or is it just me with my bonkers-heavy period??)... it's overstepping a social boundary in a bizarre way.

Like, I'm sorry that I'm better at media analysis than you (not actually sorry - I am being petty! :D), but I actually have studied queerbaiting!! I am willing to bet I have done more research than you! (Are you from twitter? You have that vibe. - Again, pettiness.)

... and I spend every day with my wife (the best writer I know; I'm so honored to share stories with her), talking of nothing but our shared special interest all day - i.e. media analysis. (I honestly don't know what neurotypical couples talk about lol)

And I've done enough research to know that one of the side effects of queerbaiting is that fans are often in denial about it and then get REAL MAD when someone points it out. I was there for the Sherlock/Supernatural fandom. Shit was crazy. (Not saying Super-who-lock bc my man Russell Davies was like MAKE THOSE BOYS SMOOCH! 😎)

Also like, my apologies to Ryoko Kui - I really do love Dungeon Meshi - but like, I'm just better at writing and illustrating queer rep than she is. I make real gay protagonists who do gay shit and are gay, and I will never queerbait my audience. Womp womp.

Also, honestly, even if I turn out to be wrong about the queerbaiting by the end of the series, this message was still rude and entitled and weird. We have a lot of issues facing our queer community that endanger real people; someone calling a story queerbaiting mistakenly is not one of them.

[beepeircings]

She optr on my operations till i transfer

[nozomikei]

Maybe I'm evil blah blah blah, but y'know what I love in a Hythlodaeus/Hades fic?

When Hyth's opinion of himself is completely in the shitter and it's explored and intensified.

I'm talking eating disorders, suicidal ideation, self-harm (of all types, not just the obvious), breaking up with Hades to 'help' him find somebody better. Gimme it all!

This brilliant man thinks his greatest contribution during the final days is as just another sacrifice, energy to charge the summoning of Zodiark. In Ultima Thule he addresses his contributions as "a bit part" (Wrong!!! He is so essential to our success at every stage! He is so, so loved and precious!!!)

I love seeing the belief that he's untalented and replaceable behind the endless patience and sweet smiles. The optimism about those he cares for that hides the fear that that is all he brings to the table, so he should never seem unhappy or others might realize they don't need him around.

He was scouted for the Convocation! He was the head of the Bureau of the Architect! He has perhaps the strongest ability to see souls of anyone!

But he talks down his abilities as a bard, as a user of creation magics.

I love fics where Hades, or others dear to Hythlodaeus, finally catch a glimpse behind the gentle smile to the pain, and struggle with low self-esteem, and start working to show him how wrong he is. Show him that he has and deserves their love and care. That they won't leave him if he is less than perfectly amiable and cheerful.

[sisterdivinium]

It's interesting to stroll around Fanlore reading discussions that took place in 2007 talking about the fractured nature of fandom on LJ and people interacting without having enough context (as in commenting on a post they did not read by a user they do not know) when you're living in 2023 and people distribute likes without reading anything or commenting; when there's supposedly "drama" of unknown origins happening in more than one website at the same time because there's no real "home base" for fandom activity anymore; and we're all carrying on with our lives reblogging things without even looking at previous notes and reactions to that same post even if out of simple curiosity...

[kindlythevoid]

Elders of Tumblr:

The year people are no longer ~new~ (aka, the year they joined) is beside the answers because I thought it was fun. :)

yes I did have to look up when tumblr was made if I got it wrong I apologize.

Anyway, pls reblog or tag so that this can get circulated to the True Elders. <3 <3

[thistlepixels]

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[hiddenbysuccubi]

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[candylandsys]

Ehhh. Bedtime probably

[kittywhimsical]

thinking about simon riley waiting for you when you come home from work.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

during the times he's been on deployment, you still had to wake up every weekday at 6 and go to work from 7 to 3 which fills the empty void in your heart but still, you dread to go back to an empty home.

so, when simon comes back after 3 long months on deployment, he sets his bags down and kicks his boots off, treading to the bathroom and taking a shower so at least he doesn't reek of sweat and war when his missus comes home. he turns the shower off, gets changed, makes himself a cuppa, and sits on the couch patiently waiting for you.

when he hears your car parking in the driveway, he can't help but feel his lips curl up a bit knowing you won't walk into an empty house anymore.

unlocking the door, you let out a long, exhausted sigh after a day of scolding interns who barely do their job right. much to your surprise, after walking in and taking off your shoes, you see your husbands boots on the spot of the rack that has been empty for the past 3 months. whipping your head around, you see simon riley smiling right at you, sitting on the couch in your shared living room.

"simon!" you let out as you run over to your husband, engulfing him in an embrace he reciprocates with his bear hugs. "hi luvie" he responds back as he nuzzles his face into your neck, "i missed you".

that night, he tells you that he's decided to resign from the 141, saying that he can't go to war knowing the dangers and turmoil it may bring in future deployments. and knowing that you are home alone every night, worrying about him, having to lay alone in your shared bed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

this is my first drabble (i think thats what its called?) likes + reblogs or comments are much appreciated !!

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.