#obligatory tag reblog

[jay-aro]

the bond between an aroace person and the fictional character(s) they find hot is a sacred thing

[beetlebabber]

#reblog#beetlebabes#beetlejuice#i know her baby daddy is dead but he's a wet fish dead and BJ is a mold and bugs dead#also i should say when i wrote this i was thinking of#BJ actually being Astrid's biological father through some ghost or dream sex#he's haunting Lydia pretending to be human because he's her husband#even if they didn't get married in the first movie they could have gotten married later like say however many years old Astrid is ago#and when he “dies” its because his time has run out#pretend you can only stay in the land of the living masquerading as one of the living for a couple decades or something#okay anyway whether lydia knows its BJ or not is unclear to the audience#astrid has no idea#and doesnt find out until BJ calls her his daughter and says something like “ah you get that from me#“like father like daughter” and astrid is like “step father?” “no blood daughter or I guess ectoplasm whatever I've got”#sorry got side tracked#back to lydia and the movie and astrid#everything continues as it does in the movie except of course BJ fills both his role and the husbands role#literally what is his name i completely forgot#are they even married#well lydia and BJ get married a third time#married thrice#they're one of those couples who likes to renew their vows and that's how BJ3 fits in#i mean he literally got lydia pregnant the minute they reunited and she had his baby#and then they woke up together and said they had a strange dream#so fucking cute#wow did not mean to write a fic in the tags but here we are (via robindrake93)

YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION

Astrid's dad should have been Michael Keaton out of the BJ makeup.

[winkleclit]

Imagine accepting the truth.

[greenglowinspooks]

Ok done wallowing in self pity now. Gonna make new designs bc the old ones won’t fit the format I’m constricted to

So obviously I need to do a poll about this

I’m gonna make a separate poll for the girls bc I know they wouldn’t win popularity-wise against the boys😭

[iphigeniacomplex]

লিখি লোৱা, মই এজন মিঞা ("Write Down 'I am a Miyah'", 2016) by Hafiz Ahmed, translated from Assamese to English by Shalim M. Hussain, began a movement of resistance poetry among Assamese Muslims of Bengali descent, referred to as Miya Poetry after a slur used to describe this community. From Abdul Kalam Azad, for Indian Express ("Write...I am a Miya", 2019):

This poem went viral and other young poets started responding to him through poems. The young poets also started reclaiming “Miya”, a slur used against us, as our identity with pride. This chain of Facebook posts continued for days, reiterating the violence, suffering and humiliation expressed by our community. As time passed, more poets wrote in various languages and dialects, including many Miya dialects. The nomenclature ‘Miya Poetry’ got generated organically but the poets and their associates have been inspired by the Negritude and Black Arts movements, and queer, feminist and Dalit literary movements, where the oppressed have reclaimed the identity which was used to dehumanise them. The trend transcended our community. Poets from the mainstream Assamese community also wrote several poems in solidarity with the Miya poets while some regretted not being poets. Gradually, this became a full-fledged poetry movement and got recognised by other poets, critics and commentators. The quality and soul of these poems are so universal that they started finding prominence on reputed platforms. For the first time in the history of our community, we had started telling our own stories and reclaiming the Miya identity to fight against our harassers who were dehumanising us with the same word. They accused us of portraying the whole Assamese society as xenophobic. The fact is we have just analysed our conditions. Forget generalising the Assamese society as ‘xenophobic’, no Miya poet has ever used the term ‘xenophobic’ nor any of its variants. The guilt complex of our accusers is so profound that they don’t have the patience to examine why we wrote the poems.

Amrita Singh, writing for The Caravan ("Assam Against Itself", 2019), detailed the political backlash against Miya Poetry, in particular the above poem.

On 10 July this year, Pranabjit Doloi, an Assam-based journalist, filed a complaint at Guwahati’s Panbazar police station accusing ten people of indulging in criminal activities “to defame the Assamese people as Xenophobic in the world.” Doloi claimed that the ten people were trying to hinder the ongoing updation of the National Register of Citizens, a list of Assam’s Indian citizens that is due to be published on 31 August. The premise of Doloi’s complaint was a widely-circulated poem called, “Write down I am Miya,” by Hafiz Ahmed, a school teacher and social activist. “Write. Write down I am a Miya/ A citizen of democratic secular republic without any rights,” Ahmed wrote. The police registered a first information report against Doloi’s complaint, booking all ten persons for promoting enmity between groups, among other offences. [...] At the press conference, Mander emphasised that people in Assam are in distress because of the NRC’s arbitrary and rigid procedures. “One spelling mistake when you are writing a Bengali name in English … that is enough for you to be in a detention center, declared a foreigner,” Mander said. “If you are not allowing this lament to come out in the form of poetry, then where is this republic of India going?”

Ahmed's poem is influenced in structure by "Identity Card", a 1964 poem by by Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish which uses the symbolic figure of the Palestinian working man to confront Israeli occupiers. Darwish's identity card, a symbol of Israeli subjugation transformed into a cry of Palestinian national identity, is reshaped by Ahmed into the National Register of Citizens for Assam and the accompanying fear of statelessness and disenfranchisement for the Miya people.

This solidarity between writers from oppressed groups is, of course, not one that ends with Darwish and Ahmed, nor with the Black, queer, feminist, and Dalit influences of Miya Poetry. As long as there is oppression, there will be companionship and recognition reflected in art and activism. On December 13, 2023, Black Agenda Report reprinted Refaat Alareer's "If I Must Die", acknowledging the connection between Alareer's poem and "If We Must Die" by Claude McKay, written in 1919 in response to the Red Summer white supremacist riots. In 2000, Haitian community activist Dahoud Andre translated "If We Must Die" into Kreyòl, and the Black Agenda Report editorial honors Alareer in a similar way, reprinting "If I Must Die" with an accompanying Kreyòl translation. (POEM: If I Must Die, Refaat Alareer, 2023.)

Transcripts under the cut.

[Hafiz Ahmed Transcripts (Assamese and English):

লিখি লোৱা, মই এজন মিঞা

লিখা, লিখি লোৱা মই এজন মিঞা এন. আৰ. চিৰ ক্রমিক নং ২০০৫৪৩ দুজন সন্তানৰ বাপেক মই, অহাবাৰ গ্ৰীষ্মত জন্ম ল’ব আৰু এজনে তাকো তুমি ঘিণ কৰিবা নেকি যিদৰে ঘিণ কৰা মোক?

লিখি লোৱা, মই এজন মিঞা পতিত ভূমি, পিতনিক মই ৰূপান্তৰিত কৰিছোঁ শস্য-শ্যামলা সেউজী পথাৰলৈ তোমাক খুৱাবলৈ মই ইটা কঢ়িয়াইছোঁ তোমাৰ অট্টালিকা সাজিবলৈ, তোমাৰ গাড়ী চলাইছোঁ তোমাক আৰাম দিবলৈ, তোমাৰ নৰ্দমা ছাফা কৰিছোঁ তোমাক নিৰোগী কৰি ৰাখিবলৈ, তোমাৰে সেৱাত��� মগন মই অনবৰত তাৰ পিছতো কিয় তুমি খৰ্গহস্ত? লিখা, লিখি লোৱা মই এজন মিঞা গণতান্ত্ৰিক, গণৰাজ্য এখনৰ নাগৰিক এজন যাৰ কোনো অধিকাৰ নাইকিয়া মাতৃক মোৰ সজোৱা হৈছে সন্দেহযুক্ত ভোটাৰ যদিও পিতৃ-মাতৃ তাইৰ নিঃসন্দেহে ভাৰতীয়

ইচ্ছা কৰিলেই তুমি মোক হত্যা কৰিব পাৰা, জ্বলাই দিব পৰা মোৰ খেৰৰ পঁজা, খেদি দিব পাৰা মোক মোৰেই গাঁৱৰ পৰা, কাঢ়ি নিব পাৰা মোৰ সেউজী পথাৰ মোৰ বুকুৰ ওপৰেৰে চলাব পাৰা তোমাৰ বুলড্‌জাৰ তোমাৰ বুলেটে বুকুখন মোৰ কৰিব পাৰে থকাসৰকা (তোমাৰ এই কাৰ্যৰ বাবে তুমি কোনো স্তিও নোপোৱা) যুগ-যুগান্তৰ তোমাৰ অত্যাচাৰ সহ্য কৰি ব্ৰহ্মপুত্ৰৰ চৰত বাস কৰা মই এজন মিঞা মোৰ দেহা হৈ পৰিছে নিগ্ৰো কলা মোৰ চকুযুৰি অঙঠাৰ দৰে ৰঙা সাৱধান! মোৰ দুচকুত জমা হৈ আছে যুগ যুগান্তৰৰ বঞ্চনাৰ বাৰুদ আঁতৰি যোৱা, নতুবা অচিৰেই পৰিণত হ’বা মূল্যহীন ছাইত!

Write Down ‘I am a Miyah’ Hafiz Ahmed, 2016 trans. Shalim M. Hussain

Write Write Down I am a Miya My serial number in the NRC is 200543 I have two children Another is coming Next summer. Will you hate him As you hate me?

write I am a Miya I turn waste, marshy lands To green paddy fields To feed you. I carry bricks To build your buildings Drive your car For your comfort Clean your drain To keep you healthy. I have always been In your service And yet you are dissatisfied! Write down I am a Miya, A citizen of a democratic, secular, Republic Without any rights My mother a D voter, Though her parents are Indian.

If you wish kill me, drive me from my village, Snatch my green fields hire bulldozers To roll over me. Your bullets Can shatter my breast for no crime.

Write I am a Miya Of the Brahamaputra Your torture Has burnt my body black Reddened my eyes with fire. Beware! I have nothing but anger in stock. Keep away! Or Turn to Ashes.

]

[Mahmoud Darwish Transcripts (Arabic and English):

سجِّل أنا عربي ورقمُ بطاقتي خمسونَ ألفْ وأطفالي ثمانيةٌ وتاسعهُم.. سيأتي بعدَ صيفْ! فهلْ تغضبْ؟ سجِّلْ أنا عربي وأعملُ مع رفاقِ الكدحِ في محجرْ وأطفالي ثمانيةٌ أسلُّ لهمْ رغيفَ الخبزِ، والأثوابَ والدفترْ من الصخرِ ولا أتوسَّلُ الصدقاتِ من بابِكْ ولا أصغرْ أمامَ بلاطِ أعتابكْ فهل تغضب؟ سجل أنا عربي أنا اسم بلا لقبِ صَبورٌ في بلادٍ كلُّ ما فيها يعيشُ بفَوْرةِ الغضبِ جذوري قبلَ ميلادِ الزمانِ رستْ وقبلَ تفتّحِ الحقبِ وقبلَ السّروِ والزيتونِ .. وقبلَ ترعرعِ العشبِ أبي.. من أسرةِ المحراثِ لا من سادةٍ نُجُبِ وجدّي كانَ فلاحاً بلا حسبٍ.. ولا نسبِ! يُعَلّمني شموخَ الشمسِ قبلَ قراءةِ الكتبِ وبيتي’ كوخُ ناطورٍ منَ الأعوادِ والقصبِ فهل تُرضيكَ منزلتي؟ أنا اسم بلا لقبِ! سجلْ أنا عربي ولونُ الشعرِ.. فحميٌّ ولونُ العينِ.. بنيٌّ وميزاتي: على رأسي عقالٌ فوقَ كوفيّه وكفّي صلبةٌ كالصخرِ... تخمشُ من يلامسَها وعنواني: أنا من قريةٍ عزلاءَ منسيّهْ شوارعُها بلا أسماء وكلُّ رجالها في الحقلِ والمحجرْ فهل تغضبْ؟ سجِّل! أنا عربي سلبتُ كرومَ أجدادي وأرضاً كنتُ أفلحُها أنا وجميعُ أولادي ولم تتركْ لنا.. ولكلِّ أحفادي سوى هذي الصخورِ... فهل ستأخذُها حكومتكمْ.. كما قيلا!؟ إذنْ سجِّل.. برأسِ الصفحةِ الأولى أنا لا أكرهُ الناسَ ولا أسطو على أحدٍ ولكنّي.. إذا ما جعتُ آكلُ لحمَ مغتصبي حذارِ.. حذارِ.. من جوعي ومن غضبي!!

Identity Card Mahmoud Darwish, 1964 trans. Denys Johnson-Davies

Put it on record. I am an Arab

And the number of my card is fifty thousand I have eight children And the ninth is due after summer. What's there to be angry about?

Put it on record. I am an Arab

Working with comrades of toil in a quarry. I have eight children For them I wrest the loaf of bread, The clothes and exercise books From the rocks And beg for no alms at your door, Lower not myself at your doorstep. What's there to be angry about?

Put it on record. I am an Arab.

I am a name without a title, Patient in a country where everything Lives in a whirlpool of anger. My roots Took hold before the birth of time Before the burgeoning of the ages, Before cypress and olive trees, Before the proliferation of weeds.

My father is from the family of the plough Not from highborn nobles.

And my grandfather was a peasant Without line or genealogy.

My house is a watchman's hut Made of sticks and reeds.

Does my status satisfy you? I am a name without a surname.

Put it on record. I am an Arab.

Color of hair: jet black. Color of eyes: brown. My distinguishing features: On my head the `iqal cords over a keffiyeh Scratching him who touches it.

My address: I'm from a village, remote, forgotten, Its streets without name And all its men in the fields and quarry. What's there to be angry about?

Put it on record. I am an Arab.

You stole my forefathers' vineyards And land I used to till, I and all my children, And you left us and all my grandchildren Nothing but these rocks. Will your government be taking them too As is being said?

So! Put it on record at the top of page one: I don't hate people, I trespass on no one's property.

And yet, if I were to become hungry I shall eat the flesh of my usurper. Beware, beware of my hunger And of my anger!

]

[gingerlee-holds]

guess who? :3

- love, ur favorite person in the world

I-

YOU-

HECKIN-

YOU ARE NOT THAT LARGE YOU FRIGGIN STINKER-

SHUSH NO NO I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS USHFASIDKFHUAILDGHSUJDFHIAEYG

YOURE NOT ALLOWED TO JUST- DROP THIS >///////////////////////////<

I WILL BE FILING A COMPLAINT WITH THE TWORD MONSTER DEPARTMENT-

[ward-leon]

hey. um. dunmeshi fans can you please tell me how you tag spoilers

[arsonists-oatmeal]

Idk if it’s the constant background buzz of the trauma of being a poc in a racist society coming to the forefront, or the fact that a lot of racism I’ve personally faced was from white queer folks But. I have been seeing a lot of “I was from a conservative family/was conservative until I found out I was queer” stories again, and to those people, I Have Some Words That I Hope You All Will Listen To So congratulations on getting away from your conservative family/your self discovery of queerness! Genuinely good job, it isn’t easy. You’ve probably had to unlearn all the homophobia/transphobia/queerphobia that you were taught growing up. Your journey of unlearning bigotry has just begun. Conservatives are really fucking bigoted, not just in the queerphobia but also the racism. You have unlearned the first part, but that second part is still there. There is a still a lot of internalized racial bias that queer people who grew up Conservative have, and a lot of those people make the mistake of thinking just because you are now one marginalized identity, you are now incapable of any kind of bigotry for the rest of your life. Being queer =/= being a poc. We are all marginalized but we’ve got a different set of problems and the ways people oppress us. So don’t make that mistake. Keep unlearning. You’ve already started doing it, you can keep on doing it. You will be a much more educated person from it, and not end up being an ass to a lot of poc

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

It’s dark, cold and gloomy in my corner of the Earth. Sounds like a perfect excuse to stay in and binge some fics! I hope you all are having a lovely weekend.

Everything I have written so far for chapter 6 of Depth of Reason is very rough and tentative, so instead of sharing one snippet, I decided to share six disjointed sentences that may or may not make the Final Cut. (My phone auto capitalized that, so I’m just going to leave it 😂) The first one is my current opening line for this chapter:

I may have made a huge mistake.

“No need to be so formal,” Penny says, as if she hadn’t just full named him.

“Maybe your mum just really had it bad for your dad,” I say, laughing as she makes a retching sound.

She said it was wildly unprofessional of me to be conducting social work appointments from a pub booth.

I fight the urge to reach across the table and grab his hands and instead shove my fingers under my legs to keep from doing anything rash.

“It sounds like a long shot.”

If you are up to date on this fic, you probably have a guess what that last one is in reference to. Also, there’s a lot of Penny in there if it wasn’t obvious 🥰

My writing has been…very slow lately. Thank you to everyone who is reading my WIPs and to everyone who continues to tag me here, even though I feel like I’m operating at a snail’s pace these days. I love you all 💛

Tagging back some peeps who tagged me recently @ileadacharmedlife @hushed-chorus @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @forabeatofadrum @larkral @artsyunderstudy @captain-aralias @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @whogaveyoupermission @aristocratic-otter @shrekgogurt @theearlgreymage @j-nipper-95

And also tagging @fatalfangirl @raenestee @ebbpettier @toonysart @blackberrysummerblog @onepintobean @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @yellobb @ic3-que3n @ivelovedhimthroughworse @johnwgrey

[may-fall]

Idk whenever i see some art of Dionysus i kinda smile :)

[winkleclit]

been fucking around lately

[the-king-of-lemons]

so like obviously i post all my interests on main because im too lazy to do sideblogs, but also the majority of my followers are from the mcyt days (not that those days are over lol), so whenever someone follows me from another one of my interests i just go: hello??? hi????? why are you here??????? hope you enjoy a shit ton of minecrafter art on your dash all the time!

[gingerlee-holds]

okay so April fools is upon us and I'm in a lee mood (shocker I know) so I wanna say that April fools in the tword community should absolUTELY be more fun like I get that most of us hate April fools jokes like I 100% will be the first to say I don’t like April fools but CMON mischief is at the heart of our community!!! so with that, here’s some April fools tword headcanons for you all:

-The ler hiding someplace like in a closet or under a bed and jumping out to tword the lee -The ler asking the lee to get something from a high shelf and then twording their underarms or sides -The ler offering to give the lee a massage, and when they're all relaxed, they strike with twords

but since i love fantasy headcanons as well,,,,

-Luring a lee into a tword machine -Planting a tword plant into a lee's garden -Put a twording spellbook into a lee's library -Slip a few drops of tword potion into a lee's drink

and yada yada yada

we all like to be comfy cozy lil lees and lers, and thats awesome sauce but there's a serious lack of mischief heehee

[squishescommishes]

about to plug away more on some comms now but this month's base wips are up for a vote now on patreon! this month ended up being fluffy shrimps and i had fun coming up with the ideas 83c

[bitsbug]

ok time to finally follow all the people I want to !! And expressing this in post form so I don't chicken out !!

[gucci-shinigami]

Finally celebrating Tgirl Tummy Tuesday (she/her)