#it gets nasty y'all

[sinnabee]

You do moons ass Mondays right

so do suns ass Sundays

your wish is my command, anon

everyone say hello to sun ass sunday. but of course, as the rule goes... suns out? guns out. >:3c

i will be barring the castle doors and fortifying my defenses in preparation for the uprising, but no, i am not sorry for this

[destielmemenews]

"Harris is Black and Indian American. When asked if he agreed with comments from some Republicans who claim Harris has political power because of “diversity, equity and inclusion,” Trump falsely suggested Harris has changed how she discussed her racial identity.

“She was always of Indian heritage, and she was only promoting Indian heritage,” Trump said. “I didn't know she was Black until a number of years ago, when she happened to turn Black, and now she wants to be known as Black. So I don't know, is she Indian or is she Black?"

Harris is a member of a historically Black sorority, attended Howard University, one of the most prominent historically Black colleges in the country, and was a member of the Congressional Black Caucus when she was a U.S. senator from California."

source 1

source 2

source 3

[ricciardo133]

July 2018

maxiel, Daniel genderswap, pining, drunken hook-up alluded to

-

Max wakes up slowly, feeling a girl cling to his side in the hotel bed. He can't remember Daniel and him inviting girls over to their shared room to unwind after Silverstone, but they did drink an inadvisable amount. Daniel had drank some noxiously sweet wine that some fan had gifted him. Idiotic, Max had thought. Max stuck to gin, a drink that normally doesn't leave him feeling this discombobulated. He feels wrecked, sore, and achy. He doesn't even feel ready to open his eyes.

The woman beside him stretches and sighs. "Rough night, eh, Maxy?" she says in a familiar Australian lit.

They both freeze.

Max sits up, slapping around the hotel lamp until he finds the switch. He stares wide-eyed at the woman lying beside him, her mass of dark curls against tan skin. Her wide, familiar eyes with that distinctive nose set between. Her hands are flung over her mouth, but Max can still see the right tattoos in the right places, only against different curves.

He glances down at perky, bare tits and soft, wide hips, and then back up in embarrassed shock.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah."

"You're a girl."

"So I've noticed."

Max gets up, starkly aware of his own nudity. He fumbles in the morning light for clothes, glancing at his reflection in the mirror as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants.

He's still quite himself, but the hickeys are new. He didn't know his face could feel this hot. He mentally feels memories from last night brush against his psyche in frustratingly fleeting snippets. Biting down on soft thighs. Warmth and tightness. Hard nipples in his mouth. God, he thinks, we finally did it and I can't fucking remember shit.

He looks back, seeing Daniel is gone. He panics and hustles to the bathroom where not-Daniel-but-still-Daniel stands and assess his body.

"Wow, kinda thought girl-me would have a bigger rack."

"You're taking this well."

"Well, obviously, we're dreaming."

"Hm."

Daniel twists in his spot, watching his reflection as he gives his ass a smack. Max is immediately hard.

"Daniel."

"Max," he echoes with faux shock. "Relax, this is, like, a seriously vivid dream. A horny one at that. I think we boned last night."

Max can't utter a word. He just watches as Daniel feels up his own body, smaller hands drifting over smooth skin. His nails skate along his thigh's tattoos, upwards to drift along fine hair between his legs. Max squirms and feels anything but asleep.

"So real," Daniel whispers.

"Can you maybe put something on?" Max begs. Daniel cocks an eyebrow and smirks. Max feels unnerved seeing his expressions in a feminine font. Daniel's refreshing confidence always made Max feel... too much. Like if he wasn't careful, he could spill over with it all. Watching Daniel now fondle his chest, pressing the small mounds together as he assessed himself in the mirror, Max felt ready to burst.

And they fucked. He turns and heads out to the hotel room.

Life is cruel and this dream sucks and he wishes he could remember.

"Hey, Max, hey," Daniel soothes, coming up behind him and blessedly covered in a hotel towel. "I seriously think this can't be real. Just like...what's that DiCaprio film?"

"Huh? Inception?"

"Yeah, that one. Just a really, really good...weird dream."

"Okay, then hit me." Max walks up to Daniel. He's not used to being this much taller. He feels dizzy again with need, wanting nothing more than to pin the older Aussie down on the bed. To hike his soft yet strong legs over his shoulders. Maybe it'd be fine if they did it again, since it maybe is an impossible dream and Daniel's not a boy right now. Not that it mattered normally. Max didn't care, he just wanted to feel him all over again.

"What?" Daniel smiles, eyebrows knit in confusion.

"In dreams, that's how you wake up. Like, a kick to jolt you awake, right?"

"Oh, right. Yeah, we should wake up."

Max leans closer and turns his cheek.

"I'm not smacking you, Max. Here," Daniel takes Max's hand in his. All Max wants was to knit their fingers together, to feel the way his palm is finally bigger than Daniel's. "We'll do it to ourselves, okay?"

Daniel places Max's hand against his own cheek. He watches the gorgeous woman in front of him mirrors him, hand raised gently, fingertips against the curls that fall so, so long down to the middle of Daniel's back. He'd look so good with hair like that even as a boy. Max thinks to tell him this and stops himself.

"On three, yeah?"

"Okay."

Daniel counts down, in that singsong voice that's his but not his pitch. Max tries to commit it to memory as he gives himself a just-too-painful slap.

And nothing changes. The only thing that changes is now Daniel panics.

"Holy fucking shit, Max."

"Daniel-"

"This is real."

"We'll fix this," Max tries as Daniel starts tearing apart the hotel room. Max glances at the clock on the nightstand while Daniel goes on a heated search for something. "We don't have to leave for the flight for two hours."

Christ. He pictures telling their team anything. Daniel can still race, of course, Max thinks. He'll just need a new suit that fits better. And some adjustments to the car's seat fit. And a good PR statement that, yes, something impossible happened overnight but no worries we'll be set for Hockenheim so don't worry about how this happened.

"This!" Daniel says, leaping up to Max and putting a small card in his hand. "This is why! Read it. It came with the wine that hot girl gave me."

Max rolls his eyes and reads it. He narrows his gaze. "A change, temporary, good for two? What's that mean?"

"Beats me, but read it again. Temporary." He sighs, letting his head knock back. Max stares at the line of hickeys down Daniel's thinner neck, too faint. "I do kinda miss my dick."

"How does it feel?" Max asks despite himself. "To be a girl?"

"Good, I guess." Does Daniel press his thighs together reflexively, Max wonders. He feels pent up and horny again. "Like, I don't mind it, but it'll be hell to buy a whole new wardrobe," he attempts to joke through shaky laughs.

"Maybe that note meant 'two' like in two times," Max says, voice quiet.

All he can hear for a moment is the whirl of the hotel aircon. He watches Daniel's feminine frame, his big eyes and wet lips.

"Can you remember any of it?" Daniel asks, voice barely registering above the whirl.

"Not much."

"And it kinda doesn't count, right? Because I'm not really me right now, so its okay? And you don't mind?"

It can count, Max wants to beg. It can. It can be okay after, too. It can be okay all the time.

"I don't mind. You're hot as a girl." The last three words feel too final. Daniel's shoulders fall as he nods.

"Yeah, a stunner, huh? So, well, we'll take her for one last ride."

Finally, Daniel walks up and pushes Max onto the hotel bed. Max's mind reels as Daniel lets the towel drop. Two breasts in Max's face as he feels thighs straddle his waist. His hands fly up to trace eager lines up Daniel's spine and rake gentle tracks back down with his nails. They both shudder.

"Last time, right?" Daniel says between kisses down Max's neck. Max feels his eyes water. It doesn't have to be. But he doesn't say anything. He flips Daniel over on the bed, body tenting over the smaller frame. And this time, he focuses. He wants to make Daniel feel good. He wants to come inside. He wants to etch every moment deep in his mind, so he'll remember every gasp, every touch, every sigh.

[tintamm]

i just know it in my BONES that John Price is the type of husband that converts the spare bedroom in your home, into a crafting/library/personal room for you.

He builds any shelving and furniture you need for your space. Helps you paint the room and adjusts everything to your liking.

Or better yet, if you have the space in your backyard, he builds you a beautiful little studio. It probably costs a small fortune but money is no matter when it comes to making you happy. <3

You ask him to help you place a bed in your space too--just for the days when you need to sleep on your own. (You get easily overwhelmed and just need a little alone time). John agrees but gets a little sad when he thinks about spending a night without you. He can't sleep well if you're not near him!!

So he ends up asking if he can sleep on the floor of your studio, just to be close to you. But then you end up feeling bad...his poor back!!!

"Dammit John, just climb in bed with me". He gives you his signature smile.

The bed is too small for you and John to sleep comfortably (its a twin sized bed lol). With some maneuvering you both manage to fit. He snores all night! >:(

The studio is your favorite space! You journal, paint, read, and play your favorite video game for hours on end. (Yes, you lose track of time in there lol.)

John loves watching you in your element. Loves how much peace and joy your little studio brings you. Ever the doting husband, he makes sure you're hydrated and well-fed. (Price is an excellent cook!) You always give him a big o'l kiss every time he drops by.

His heart nearly bursts when you tell him how lucky you are to be loved and cared for by him.

"You're so easy to love, sweetheart"

[saturninemartial]

ok I need to write a little future fic where zosan get married on the sunny and then they're persuaded by the rest of the crew to take a little honeymoon on an island they're passing by. but the newlyweds have a run-in with some pirate hunters and hold up their bounty posters stating roronoa zoro and black-leg sanji. and while kicking ass, sanji is like, "actually, it's roronoa sanji 😼" and zoro is like, "yeah if it doesn't get fixed soon he's not gonna quit bitching about it." and then when they're done, they kiss over the groaning injured bodies of the hunters, their love and dedication to each other once again reignited :)

[tomfrogisblue]

but yeh nah

seeing the old spawn again and SOME OF THE FUCKING CAPYS has single-handedly made today five thousand times better

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 31

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy/infertility

(I meant for this to be funny/lighthearted but it turned slightly angsty? Don't worry though. It's sandwiched between fluff.)

Consequences

Killer woke up before you did. At some point in the night, the positions changed until you were now the little spoon and he was curled around your back, face pressed into your hair, inhaling the way you smelled. His hand rested on your stomach, having very innocently moved your shirt out of the way so he could feel the soft skin underneath. It slid down to gently knead at your love handle. He wanted to stay like that for longer; unfortunately a ship of hungry pirates was not pleasant to be aboard. "Y/N," he whispered. "You're gonna help with breakfast, aren't you?"

You groaned, pulling the sheets over your head. "Not now, boss. M'sleepy." Clearly, you were somewhere else in your head.

His fingers prodded your ribs until a soft giggle came from under the sheets. "Wake up, breadcrumb."

"Killerrrrrrrrrr." You turned to face him with half-lidded eyes, barely peeking out from the sheets. You were about to plant a kiss on him, but shrunk closer to him when you heard boots approaching the door to the bathroom. He was also turned on his side, facing you, so you were hidden behind him, still under the sheets.

The door opened and Killer half-turned to see Kid standing in the doorway. "Killer, why are there three toothbrushes?" Kid's eyes were narrowed. 

"You must have taken out another one when you were drunk." Killer didn't feel like dealing with Kid this early in the morning. 

"No. Mine is blue, yers is red, and now there's a purple."

Killer straightened slightly. "Mine is blue."

"Pretty sure mine is the blue one."

"Kid!" Killer knew all too well what Kid did with his mouth and frowned at the implication they had inadvertently been sharing. "Why the fuck would I use red when that's your color? I'm blue. You're red."

Kid shrugged. "I like blue." He shook his head. "Wait that's not what I'm here to argue about. Why is there a purple!?" Kid walked around Killer's bed to see who was in it. He had a suspicion that Killer hadn't invited him to your nighttime activities like he promised. Kid grabbed the covers and yanked at them, but they didn't budge, firmly in your grip. So he did the next best thing and snaked his hand underneath, finding a small foot. "Aha!" He dragged you out from the end of the bed.

You tried to grab something to hold onto to no avail. "Killer, help!" You reached for him and giggled. "Noooooo!" You yelled as you were rudely pulled out and left to plop onto the floor. "Ow, Kid." You sat at the foot of the bed on the floor, letting your head fall back against the mattress behind you. 

"I knew it! Ya fucked without me!"

"No, we didn't, Kid." Killer rolled his eyes and reached for his helmet on the side table. "Swear on your life."

Kid looked confused. "Why not? On yer period or somethin?" Why else would you be in the same bed as Killer and not fuck?

Killer scoffed. "What does that matter?" He got out of bed and started to get ready for the day.

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "I don't even remember when the last time I had one was." You didn't think anything of it. Kid was, again, ruining your nice moments with Killer and it was annoying you. "Believe me. I tried." You added, "We just... cuddled. It was... nice." You felt yourself starting to flush and took that as your cue to leave before Kid could make fun of you. You moved in the shadows, trying to avoid being seen leaving Killer's room in pjs and simultaneously praying you didn't get a splinter in your bare feet. Somehow, you were successful on both fronts. Emma and Quincy noticed your absence all last evening, but they assumed you had been helping Killer in the galley and then stayed with Kid. You didn't correct them. It was weird. You could care less if people talked about you and Kid. Killer, though, you wanted to keep that to yourself. It felt wrong to talk about it, especially since it respected his privacy, too.

You met Killer in the galley to help with breakfast. Every time he put his hand against your back to push past you or grabbed something from you, brushing your hand, you felt hot. You kept feeling hot. Really hot. The feeling didn't go away and you were sweating. You leaned against the counter, feeling lightheaded.

Killer stopped his buzzing around the kitchen to put his hand on your forehead. "Are you ok?"

You shook your head. "I think I need to lay down." You felt fine when you woke up so why did you suddenly start feeling cruddy? 

"Do you want me to come check on you later?" Killer probably would have just done it, however he didn't want to overstep, afraid that you would feel suffocated if he gave you too much attention too soon.

"I'm okay." You didn't want Killer wasting his time looking after you. After all, you were the doctor.

You headed directly to the infirmary, rifling through the cabinets for a few things. Before you had the chance to take the rainbow of pills sitting on the counter, a wave of nausea overcame you. Sprinting into the bathroom without a second to spare, you were hung over the toilet, heaving your guts out. Mostly bile came up since you had digested the previous night's food already. When your stomach decided to calm down, you dragged yourself to lay on one of the gurneys, promptly passing out.

The captain was in his workshop, still miffed about being left out. So what if there was no fucking? Maybe he wanted to snuggle, too. So what if he was a brute? He liked soft things, too. The sound of you entering your side of the involuntarily shared space directed his thoughts elsewhere. Kid heard all the commotion through the massively huge hole in the wall, still not fixed. "If yer gonna puke, at least shut the door. Damn," Kid mumbled. He wondered what had you feeling like shit. Surely, it wasn't Killer's cooking. He couldn't think of a time when he had ever gotten sick from his first mate's food. But there was an itch in his brain. Something you said earlier. It sent him into a cold sweat. "I don't even remember when the last time I had one was."  One by one, every time he fucked you played in his head, and by default, every time he came, some times on you, but mostly in you. "Shit." Kid, paler than ever, went to find Killer. 

Kid burst through the galley doors, trying to be cool, but the shifting of his eyes gave away that he was in his head. "Hey, Kil." He pretended to be interested in the food, which was hardly pretending except for the fact his stomach was doing flips. "Did ya, uh, notice anything about Y/N this morning?" 

That got Killer's attention. Kid had never referred to you by name before, always using 'Rotten' or his other nicknames. Killer continued to cook, "Yeah. She didn't feel good." Where is he going with this? 

"I heard her puking in the infirmary bathroom." Kid seemed anxious.

Killer was immediately concerned. "You think it was my spaghetti?" He sounded dejected. The pride he had in his food would be severely wounded if he had accidentally gave you food poisoning. He felt fine, though, and you had eaten the same thing. 

Kid rubbed his arm. "No. I think it possibly, may be, slightly my fault." He was sweating.

The first mate knew his captain well, and knew that he was struggling to say something. "Kid," he said lowly. "What did you do?" Killer didn't know what to think. Did Kid pull a prank that went wrong? Maybe he accidentally poisoned you. Killer knew Kid had been annoying you by moving stuff around in the infirmary. What if he switched the bottles of something and you took too much of the wrong thing? "You better go apologize for whatever it is if you're sweating this badly over it."

"I don't think an apology will do much." Kid took a deep breath. "Remember earlier this morning? When I said the thing about the period and then she said she couldn't remember the last one." 

Killer put 2 and 2 together. "Kid... We've talked about this." The world didn't need any more red-headed pirates in it.

"I know. I know! But in the moment... And she didn't stop me! So it's not all my fault!"

Killer wasn't all that worried. Sure. It was a very real possibility, but he doubted a woman so hellbent on revenge and being reckless would even allow it to be a remote one. "She's not stupid, Kid. If she wasn't worried, then either there's not a reason to be, OR she wanted to have your kid. And I HIGHLY doubt the second possibility. She can't stand even the one of you."

Kid looked a touch offended. "Killer, you aren't taking this seriously." Kid ran a hand through his hair. He hadn't put that much thought into thatpart of his future. 

Killer shrugged. "It's not my kid." He knew that would rile Kid up, but couldn't resist poking at him. If he was actually concerned, he would be more empathetic. 

Kid huffed. "Well the way the two of ya are getting on, yer gonna be the step-dad." He folded his arms, reminded of being left out.

"Oh my god, you're jealous." Killer chuckled. Kid was so cute when he was jealous. His pouty face and grumbling voice made Killer grin under his mask. Killer shook his head and sighed. "Why don't you leave her alone for now, and later I'll go with you to check up on her, unless you want to go by yours-"

"No. I need ya to come with me." Kid quickly interjected. It's not like he was scared or anything. It was for you, in case you needed Killer's support.

After an entire day of Kid pacing the ship, freaking out in his head, Killer had found him and the two went to check on you. At first Kid was freaking out about the presence of a child on a pirate ship, though none of them were raised in savory conditions in the first place, so maybe it would be fine. Then he was freaking out because the combined personalities of you and he would be an absolute demon of a child, and how would he make it listen. Kid didn't really love the idea of a kid, but he would be damned if he let it grow up like he, Killer, Wire, and Heat did. If you even stayed, or wanted it, or wanted to participate in raising it. There were a lot of uncertainties. Unwarranted, as he would soon find out.

Killer knocked and entered. 

"I told you not to check on me," your voice was strained. They didn't see you initially. You had opted to lay with Mini on the floor, instead of the gurney. Lay was a strong term, you were curled into a ball, shivering. "Don't come closer!" You held your hand out in a gesture to stop. 

"You look like shit." Killer saw how green and clammy you were. Sweating, yet shaking like you were freezing. He could plainly see that you were sick. 

Lifting your head to look at him, you didn't think Kid would be there as well. You assumed Killer would probably come check on you or send Heat even though you said not to. Kid, though, he wasn't the type to show concern for another person. You pulled yourself up to be sitting. He had a weird energy about him. "What's your problem?" You directed it at Kid.

"YER PREGNANT!" He blurted it right out. 

You stared at him blankly. How the fuck did he reach that conclusion? A bunch of things went through your head at once. It was something you didn't go telling everyone. But you realized you probably should have mentioned it to the guy who was shooting loads in you basically every day for weeks off and on. You didn't feel bad, however, because you were still mad at him for a variety of reasons and he deserved to sweat a little. "Well, fuck I would have stopped drinking if I knew that." You got serious and frowned at him. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

Kid stammered. "I-I- uh." He didn't have to struggle for long. He thought you were crying before realizing you were laughing at him.

"Kid, relax. I'm not." You smirked. "Is that why you ran out of here like a scared animal this morning?" You shouldn't be laughing at his mental torment, but seeing Kid a little scared was interesting and you were a little delirious from whatever concoction you whipped up for yourself. 

"Told you." Killer stated, matter-of-factly, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

"Shut up. I wasn't worried." Kid grumbled, though visibly relieved. "But explain anyways," Kid demanded. "You were puking and... you know all the times-"

"All the times you couldn't pull out because this pussy is too good? Yeah I recall." Mainly, you didn't want to go about your day dripping cum into your panties. You gave up on asking him to pull out however, because he simply couldn't. "I would have been a lot angrier with you if there was a risk of getting pregnant, dumbass. But now I can't help but wonder how many brats you have out there in the world with that shitty ass pull-out game." You were giggling. 

"I'm more careful with whores! Shut up!" Kid was fully red. 

Killer shot you a dubious look.

"Aw, does that mean I'm not a whore to you?" You decided to grace him with an answer. "It's physically impossible for me to have a kid. So you can continue to nut as you please, when I decide to fuck you again." '

"When?" Killer questioned, a cheeky look on his face.

You corrected yourself. "If. If I decide."

Normally Kid would have been focusing on the part about the nutting. However, he was stuck on the first thing you said. You weren't a whore to him, but what were you to him? Both you and Killer had assumed he was jealous of the time Killer spent with you instead of with him. Kid found himself strangely jealous of your attention. He wanted more of it. "Why can't ya?" Kid didn't mean to be rude, for once. He just wanted to know, to be sound of mind.

Killer hit the back of his head. "You can't ask that!" 

"It's fine." It didn't really bother you. You never wanted kids in the first place and in this life, it was a blessing in disguise. A really painful, terrible disguise. You pulled up your shirt, holding the hem in your teeth, and unbuttoned your pants, pulling the waistband down until it was at the edge of your pubes. "You probably never noticed it since you were preoccupied with... other things." There was a pale, silvery, jagged scar about 2/3 of the way from your belly button to your mons, just above your pubic ramus. "Katana got me." You shivered and put your pants back on. 

"Oh," was all Kid said. 

"You really don't look good. Do you need some soup? Water?" Killer saw how uncomfortable you were and also wanted to change the subject since he wasn't sure how much it bothered you. 

"M'fine." You let yourself slide back down on your side. Mini picked up her head and licked you.

Stubborn. "Ok. Will you have someone get me if it gets worse?"

"Probably not."

"It wasn't a question," Killer put on his first-mate voice. He continued, "Kid, why don't you keep an eye on her?"

"I'm not fuckin staying here ta get sick."

"Lucky for you, someone installed an observation window," Killer motioned to the big fucking hole in the wall, "so you can sit alllll the way at your workbench and still see." 

Kid grumbled, walking over to his side of the space and Killer left. 

You barely moved over the next day and Kid couldn't stand the sight of you shivering. So damn annoying. He tried to ignore it, ignore you. Every noise or sudden movement you made had his head snapping up to see what was wrong. He couldn't focus on anything he did. With a frustrated growl, he stomped over to look down on you. "Yer so damn irritating." Shrugging his coat off, he laid it over you. "If ya barf on this, I'm throwing ya into the sea, got it?" You didn't give any response, deep in sleep. His eyes flicked to your right ear. The top part of the helix was missing, damaged from the attack you had endured. He didn't know what came over him the other day, but as he fiddled with scraps, he had an idea. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small, crescent shaped piece of metal that he hid from Killer earlier in the week. It was cuffed and made from a nice silvery-colored metal. With a gentleness unbecoming of hands so rough and calloused, he moved your hair out of the way and slid the metal prosthetic, though it was more like jewelry, over your ear. It attached to the helix that was left to resemble the part that was missing, like the tip of your ear was dipped in silver. "Hmph." A small flicker of pride lit inside him. It looked good. Of course it does. I made it. He didn't know why, but he did.

Next Chapter

[fromtheseventhhell]

Zutaras are really the original self-insert, "we understand the story soooooo much better than everybody else" girlies and they just never moved on

[saint-ambrosef]

ngl im still kinda stunned how quickly some of y'all got vitriolic and nasty on my playful joke post about protestant pastors. y'all proudly call yourselves christians but jumped on the chance to act smug and dismissive the moment someone showed what you assumed was ignorance. like all jokes aside, some of y'all seriously need to examine these instincts because that was pretty gross.

[cosmics-beings]

I wanted to make a post like this for a while, but since i was asked the question i can make it here!

i'm also speaking as an actual black person....so if you don't like these conversations where black people speak on black issues and how we feel, then just ignore this.

So in the past, yeah I agreed with this but my opinion has kinda changed with TF One.

However, I am still extremely uncomfortable seeing depictions of Black human formers Megatron because most of it, especially in ship art is extremely racist and relies on racist stereotypes of black men being abusive, violent, and problematic when his partners are drawn white or lightskinned (i see this all the time in megastar and megaop art. megatron is portrayed as the huge brutal black man and starscream/optimus are the small white twinks who are being beaten by him - it's gross and racist but for some reason it's common).

In general, I think it can be harmful to make a slave character, who inevtibly turns into a genocidal war lord and a generally awful person, a black person (even with his redemption arcs). it also racializes slavery, when we know that slavery doesn't have a race, and Megatron himself is a gladiator. Gladiators are slaves, and one of the most famous gladiators was from Thracia. This again is mostly a fan issue, because I at least have always seen Megatron coded as white in the comics and in the shows. In many depictions, he has a European accent, voiced by white European people (posh english lmao, or in ES Scottish).

That said, in TF One, I'm willing to let it slide. That's because Megatron isn't the only slave. Optimus, who is voiced by a white man, is also a slave, as is Elita, and Bumblebee. I think you know, not racializing slavery and having this notion that slave = black by default, is what makes it okay.

I still wouldn't feel super comfortable seeing Black megatron fanart because again, none of the depictions have been good in my opinion, as a Black person. And i mean none of them, and I do wonder where the thought in this fandom came from that making a person who canonically is violent and aggressive, was okay, just because he happened to be a slave. It is a far too common trope that I see in fanfic and fanfart, especially again...in a shipping sphere.

But I think TF One is able to balance it out, and since this is D-16, he is. a lot calmer, kinder, etc. I think things can get in muddy area when he eventually does turn into Megatron and he becomes the genocidal tyrant we all know and love....especially when you make the black one of the group the one who chooses violence whereas the white voices ones don't.

but who knows? My opinions are ever changing depending on how things are handled.

if you disagree with this, that's fine just do so respectfully and i mean at least be black

[anniilaugh]

"Something happened here. Something evil."

I edited an old b&w shot of my Kusuriuri cosplay from Cosvision 2014

Photography - C2 Cosplay

[moon7jay]

Just woke up and completed the last scene of my upcoming jay fic and i have no idea what I wrote (I'm officially losing my mind). The only part left is editing and it should be out by tomorrow. Hopefully.

[gayofthefae]

The idea that El, at its core concept - no semantics, would prioritize her boyfriend over her family is a fundamental misunderstanding of her arc.

She won't be choosing in the first place but if she was going to Will is literally her BROTHER. Idc if she's known Mike longer that mf lives with her, you thinks she's gonna wreck her FAMILY? Her HOUSEHOLD??? Threaten her HOME LIFE????!!!

[chaewberry]

they're scolding me on twitter because i called galadriel a whore in a joking and endearing manner. on twitter btw. what is the world coming to.

[exhuastedpigeon]

I have so many thoughts and feelings about Eddie and Shannon's relationship, but based on what I've seen on here most of y'all couldn't handle them so I'll keep my mouth shut.

[one-vivid-judgment]

Fuck it, we making BeerKluen be absolutely and disgustingly in love to the point TanFang's spot as the most ridiculously whipped couple in existence is actually threatened, simply cause no one can stop me and I know Beer would treat him right.