#representation matters so much y'all

[lastoneout]

Fr tho I would like to ALSO thank One Piece Fan Letter for finally giving me now what 10 year old me so desperately wanted. No one would have expected the central character in a fan focused short for one of the most popular shonen manga of ALL TIME to be a girl. The target demographic is boys. No one would have batted an eye if the short was about a little boy who was inspired by Luffy or Usopp or Zoro or Sanji. But it wasn't, it was about a young girl inspired by Nami. And tbh, knowing One Piece, I was genuinely shocked when that girl said she was almost 15 because SHE LOOKS IT and that's SO refreshing!! She looks like a kid!! And she acts like one, all rude and funny and flustered and stupid and brave and weird!! That right there is exactly what little me needed, what I've always said was my dream, a female character in shonen who is allowed to be a normal person just like the guys, instead of a Girl(tm) who is always played as opposed to everyone else's shenanigans and interests because girls don't like boy things, don't ya know(or at least looks like a normal person instead of a stick figure with boobs). I wanted a character like Nami's fan so bad as a kid. And she exists now!!

This episode really was special. This and Echoes of Wisdom is just so validating, like bit by bit we're making progress!! And while it's fucking long overdue I'm so thankful that I'm actually here to see it.

[twelvebooksstuff]

AND LOVE TO SEE IT!! If you don’t mind me adding on, Season 1 Episode 4 of Fraggle Rock: Back to the Rock “The Glow” also has an excellent story that was explicitly designed to invoke LGBTQ+ experiences as well as Neurodivergent ones (while still being relatable to almost anyone via a pretty brilliant metaphor IMO). The “Fraggle Talk” podcast has a beautiful in depth look and how “The Glow” was created and why it was intended to have such a resonant message. In all honesty I cannot recommend Fraggle Rock: Back to the Rock AND the original series Fraggle Rock enough. Truly one of the best children’s media EVER created, and painfully underrated, these truly are stellar examples of what children’s media should be and how it can be impactful for people of all ages!

Breaking news: Non-binary person declares an episode explicitly touching on non-binary experiences and portraying them with all the love, care and respect they deserve to be the person's favourite episode of the show. Raise your hands if you're shocked.

[saltpepperbeard]

Be a Lighthouse - Fight For OFMD Season 3

Hi everyone. The news of our cancellation is both incredibly devastating, and quite shocking considering the trajectory of the show and its fanbase. Everything looked like it was lining up in a positive fashion...only for the rug to get yanked out from under us.

I cried. I went numb. I stared at the wall for a while.

But then, something sparked. Like Ed who was resolved to his fate in S1Ep4 only to rocket back upwards, I was struck with a realization: we need to be a lighthouse!

Fanbases have campaigned before, and have gotten results. Sense8 was able to get a two hour finale to properly wrap everything up. Lucifer was able to get picked up by Netflix after being cancelled by Fox. Brooklyn 99 was able to get picked up by NBC after being cancelled by Fox. And many more examples.

Be it a proper renewal, a finale wrap that entails Ed and Stede's wedding, or the attention from another network, I say we fight that good fight. So, here are some ways we can be heard; if you think of any additional points, please feel free to add them!

If you don't cancel your Max Subscription, continue watching the show and leaving feedback on Max's online feedback form. I had a kneejerk reaction when cancellation was announced and pulled the plug...only to sit back and reconsider. I want them to still get my metrics. I want them to still see the show means something to me. And whether that's through words or statistics, I feel like that's something.

2. Follow @renewasacrew and keep up with their resources/campaigns. They're very active and passionate, and have already come up with different ways to fight for our show.

3. Sign the petition to give us just that little bit more of a chance to have our voices heard.

4. Stay active on social media, and stay positive. Continue sharing how much this show means to us. Continue creating. Continue loving. Use hashtags like-

#RenewAsACrew

#SaveOFMD

#RenewOFMD

#BeALighthouse

#OFMDSeason3

or anything equivalent on any and all OFMD-related posts. Keep the buzz about it going on social media. Comment on posts, keep spreading the word, and get the light burning.

5. Renewasacrew has given us another outlet; an official HBO email address. Write an email detailing your personal experience with this show, and how significant a third season would be.

6. Tweet/email other platforms to pique their interest. Be it Amazon Prime, Hulu, Netflix, or whoever else, let's see if we can't catch someone else's attention. A romcom with iconic LGBT representation seems pretty enticing if you ask me!

This show means the world to me. Y'all mean the world to me. So let's show them why. Let's show them why, and get the proper ending we, the cast and crew, and the characters all deserve.

[bishiglomper]

I have been reading a lot of QPR/acespec/arospec Alastor fics and lemme tell you

I am so immensely greatful y'all are truly exploring his asexuality. I've never seen fics do that. I, an ace, haven't even really done that past the foundational "Yeah that's not (for) me" speculation.

Some fics really delved into his thought process and his place in the situation and its been very enlightening. Just seeing through another's take on asexuality/aromanticism has been eye-opening. I know others have confessed to finding out some things about themselves because of Alastor fanfiction.

It's true, representation does matter

Don't get me wrong, I live for the smut and seeing all the different dynamics the different ships bring. Those are fun. But there do be some big feels from some of these seemingly innocuous self-indulgent drabbles.

LET ME TELL YOU

THE YEARNING I feel after some of these characters just. Accept Alastor? For who he is and what he wants/doesn't want. Who are willing to metaphorically hold his his hand and walk him through the conficting ideas he has about himself and what he wants? I have no words for how special that is. It's so damn special, y'all are truly out there doin' the lord's work. (ノ_＜。) I luff you all so much

[dr-spectre]

I wanna say one final thing about the Marina stuff that went down.

Seeing all the cool fan art that has sprouted due to what has been going on and people sharing their love and passion for Marina is absolutely incredible and reminds me of the importance of the character.

Marina as a character speaks to such a wide range of people and i think it's incredibly sweet and powerful stuff. This character and the culture she embodies is important to a ton of people and as a community, we should NEVER... EVERRRRR forget that!!!!

Marina is my second favourite Idol, i find a lot of relatablity in her despite my appearance looking absolutely NOTHING like her. It feels amazing to know that there is a HEAVILY autistic coded character out there who i can find some comfort in. Not the same kind of comfort as Callie, but different.

I really do love Marina, and I wish my brain would hyper focus on her instead of the magenta squid woman...

I hope we can move past this and learn how to treat people who look different from you much MUCH better. Although the Splatoon community can be very accepting of others and is genuinely one of the more kinder communities out there, it still has a really awful and down right racist side to it, that makes me sick to my stomach.

The stuff i saw about the situation involving Marina and her VA really pissed me off, and i felt so incredibly disappointed. I want this community to do better, and i want minorities to feel safe and comfortable here. It's not fucking fair man.

It's insane to me that the series that's an allegory for racism is full of racist individuals who freak out over seeing a person that isn't white and straight... UGHHHH! It makes so angry, SO. ANGRY. God forbid a woman has a darker tone of skin...

We got 4 idols based on Japanese culture and its different aspects in terms of Idol popstars, a Brazilian singer, an Indian performer, and a black octopus woman. Being racist and defending the act of white washing in a series full of diversity and representation is such vile shit and there is no place for you here, or anywhere else for that matter.

Im not even talking about the person who made that pale skin Marina art, they have said sorry and will focus on improving themselves, only time will tell if they do. But, the people who defended them and then got mad at others who crictised something as important as a character's skin tone... Fucking despicable behaviour.

I really wanna believe in good and hope that the Splatoon community can really grow from this and actually fully embody the messages the games have shown us. But so far, it seems like some of y'all haven't got the message drilled in your fucking heads.

If you freak out over two dark skinned fictional women like these girls right here, then I'm genuinely worried about how you act towards real-life women of colour.

Do better. Seriously. Get better at how you perceive others and really reflect on yourself and what you say towards people who look different than you.

[maerhiya]

in regards to the constant dismissal of his aroace identity, i hate it when alastor 'fans' say and use the excuse: "he's fictional, he won't get offended."

like, you're right, but it can and will offend us.

when you see yourself being represented on screen, of course you'd feel enthusiastic about it — representation allows individuals to see themselves reflected in the media they consume, validating their identities and experiences. but when so many people take that representation and decide to disregard and discard it, it is so fucking frustrating. we finally have another character to be part of the tiny amount of representation we have, but then people don't even care about how much it means to us? like yeah, alastor won't get offended because he's not real, but it frustrates and annoys us. do you realize that it's also technically invalidating the aroace community? that you're invalidating our feelings? imagine feeling like you're finally being seen because your orientation is finally being represented in media, and people just decide to blatantly ignore, discard, and invalidate it.

media has such a powerful influence on real life, representation being a prevalent factor of it. there are numerous posts that dictate how people went to watch a movie/show or read a book just because a character depicts their identity in it — obviously, being represented is an incredibly uplifting and validating experience.

which is why seeing an aroace character in a popular show is so meaningful to us because we live in a world where romance and sex are literally everywhere and prioritized above all else. (and it's pretty obvious that alastor's on the repulsed end of the spectrum, but even if he wasn't, at least make an effort to acknowledge his sexuality instead of continuing to portray him as allo; aroace folks can be in relationships but it's not going to be the same thing with allos' experiences.)

any and every representation matters, but why does that seem to stop at people under the aroace spectrum? like y'all can't even let us appreciate the scraps of representation we have. we barely have any, so are we really that dramatic for being upset at how people easily disregard and dismiss our identities that are being depicted on screen just like that? is it truly wrong of us to want to defend and maintain the little representation we have?

[bluecrocss]

Following up on the RACIST PJO Fan artist that likes to antagonize other Fan artists (Sevsalio)

So, I recently made this post detailing a racist interaction I had with this user.

Aka the person who made the following fanarts:

And despite other people reporting similar interactions, I have a lot of non-black people white-splaining how they're not anti-black or how what they said is fine.

Newsflash, my first post was for non-racist pjo fans to be aware, in case they interact with that user. For those of you that defend them, idrc, keep engaging with them, its so clear how normalised anti-blackness is in this fandom.

The user themselves had this to say:

That is called deflection. They're trying to make it seem as if the issue was that I disagreed with their opinion about mixed fanart between the book and the show.

First of all, their initial post that started all this was them accusing artists that draw Show!annabeth (black) with book!percy of being Racist. That is what they said. They have literally used the term "reverse-racism" in 2024.

They claimed that it was unfair that artists that draw Book!annabeth and Show!percy get "lynched" (more racist language btw), yet when asked, they couldn't give ONE example of that happening.

This user is not a victim being attacked for no reason. They hate seeing fanart of Show!annabeth with book!percy, and decided it was their place to call artists that did that racist. Then made up imaginary scenarios of the reverse to justify their statement.

The whole interaction can be read here, if they want to accuse me of hiding context or whatever.

They also specifically used the "Leah Sava Jeffires" tag (aka the black actress for show annabeth, who dealt with 2 years of relentless racist hate mobs & death threats), so that any fans of hers or the show would see the post.

I'm not just calling them racist for that though. Their response to my prodding had them revealing a lot of their blatant anti-black views (which they quickly deleted. wonder why?).

This is what they have to say about black people:

(Pretending to be black to deflect accountability. Nice).

And when confronted on their bigotry, this is how they like to respond to people:

Oh, and funfact, they're also transphobic (or atleast enjoy antagonizing other queer people. And no it doesn't matter if they're also gay):

Fyi, "I hate everyone equally" isn't an adequate response when people are telling you you're being bigoted :)

This person intentionally antagonizes other artists and has made it clear that they believe that there is too much representation for black people, racial minorities and queer people (all statistically under-represented groups).

I don't care if they said they're not racist, or transphobic or anything else. You think conservatives or homophobes openly think they're hateful? But if you enjoy antagonizing marginalized groups and multiple people within those groups have called out the shit you say... maybe it's not up to you to determine if you're a bigot.

The creator of the series himself, has literally made it clear even he doesn't appreciate people like you in the fandom, so your sense of entitlement is baffling.

Stop coming into my comments/messages to defend this person. IDC if you still wanna be friends with them, but y'all wont gaslight me into believing this rhetoric is okay. Good day 🩷

[idontbeatgames]

For the last several weeks, I've gotten to witness what may be the most positive thing I've ever seen the DC fandom do. 

To not let Blue Beetle become forgotten or ignored, a group of Twitter users got together and unironically formed what is now known as "The Blue Beetle Battalion". If you didn't know about this the "Blue Beetle Battalion" grew to become a genuinely positive group of folks who had one intention: to positively promote Blue Beetle as much as possible because Warner Bros/DC Studios couldn't do so. 

To most people's shock, that group grew to become a massive amount of people across Twitter to the point where even the cast of Blue Beetle became aware of its existence and started to push the #BlueBeetleBattalion hashtag to higher levels than we ever thought it'd reach. We'd spam gifs, tell people why they should support it, push all the positive stories surrounding Blue Beetle and even hype up all of the new posters that would drop. The best part is that along the way, a lot of people grew to become friends or at least aware of each other's existence and social media profiles as we'd joke around as we continued to push Blue Beetle across social media. At most, it was gonna be a funny joke to look back on where we'd all think "Man it sucks it didn't work out but at least we tried" but here we are today, having our efforts and love for Blue Beetle, Xolo Mariduena and the cast of Blue Beetle vindicated.

At the time of this post, Blue Beetle has gone against all the odds and currently sits at an 85% on Rotten Tomatoes! The highest DC film score since The Batman, can you believe it!?

As I said in so many of my other Blue Beetle posts, please support this film. Please go out and watch Blue Beetle with your friends and family. As the first live-action Latino superhero film, the representation that it's bringing is such a warm welcome and no matter what people say, we need more superhero projects that represent massive cultures to have amazing lighthearted success stories now more than ever. Let Blue Beetle be the beginning of this amazing trend of these incredibly important films overcoming all of the odds no matter how many people choose to immediately write it off. 

Blue Beetle releases Aug 18 in theaters across the world y'all

[ohshitfangirlalert]

My feelings about agathario are actually so intense. I don't know how a show so 'little' had such a HUGE impact on my life. I don't think this will go away for a long time. Or, ever. I think about these characters daily.

This is what we mean when we say "representation matters". It only takes the right actors and a good, relatable plot, amazing visuals and a passionate team to make a TREMENDOUS impact on a young person.

I think it really changes so much for me and out a lot of things in perspective about adulthood, and love, and caring for people and sharing your truth and vulnerability. Women in media, proper queer women in media representation is so much better. Passion, grief, pain, worry, confusion. We saw so much emotion we saw so much rawness from the characters it just was both heartbreaking and heartfelt. It was rejuvenating, I felt like I was shedding my thick snake skin and my skin now is glowing.

It made me feel, no jokes intended.

I hope to thank everyone that took part in this wonderful project and the fandom, which has made me feel at peace and at home after so many years of estrangement in the queer community.

I love y'all. This is for you— a big hug.

I hope we continue to see things like this and continue to share about this show till we can't no more..by allowing ourselves to be vulnerable we share space for safety.

[hannahmanderr]

Now that I have y'all's attention, I would like to bring up another subject matter that is sorely slept on in the phandom:

Danny Fenton with white in his hair.

There is so much potential there in terms of both art and storytelling and I see it so rarely used that I go feral just about any other time I see it.

Like I just got done talking about too-ghostly Fenton and not-ghostly-enough Phantom, well BOOM here's a perfect physical representation of how his two halves aren't completely separate - they play into one another and exchange information and make Danny into something beyond human or ghost entirely.

The white hair is a great visual for showing the fact that even in human form, Phantom is still there, bleeding over.

Bonus points if that white hair goes black when he goes ghost, showcasing the humanity and part of Fenton that will always remain.

Plus come on, y'all have to admit it looks wicked cool. Not like how they did it in Phantom Planet, but y'all can't tell me you don't love the idea of something actually well placed/executed.

If I were better at drawing, I'd draw it myself. Even still, you can absolutely bet that I will always try to work in the white hair streak into whatever story I'm writing, you cannot stop me

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 20

Part Nineteen Part One Link to ao3

A huge thank you to so many people but it's especially @thefreakandthehair for betaing, being the best, and generally encouraging all of my nuttiness. Also a big shout out to Bowie ( don't remember your Tumblr my lovely!!) for doublechecking some sensititvity reading for me. Y'all rock!!!

Jeff had the decency to wait until Frank was safely in his house before he called Eddie out on his shit. 

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Jeff sighed the second the door closed behind Frank, leaving only the snow, Eddie’s headlights, and two best friends about to have an incredibly awkward conversation. 

“Driving you dicks home?” Eddie tried, hoping that he could fool Jeff into not having the uncomfortable conversation that was already beginning. He kicked the van into reverse, throwing a hand casually over Jeff’s seat as he turned and began to maneuver his way back to the road. 

“Eddie.”

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t anything really. Just his name, nothing more, nothing less, but it was Jeff’s tone. 

That voice, the voice he always used when he was trying to cut through Gareth and Eddie’s bullshit. Corroded Coffin had lasted all these years because of balance. Frank was their rock, steady and sure; Eddie and Gareth were the stream, bouncing and playing and whirling around in a daze; but Jeff was the earth around them. Jeff was everything, and Eddie might be their leader, but Jeff was the one that held everything together. 

And he was the only one who could get Eddie to drop the act with just one word. 

“Honestly, dude? I have no fucking idea what I’m doing,” Eddie sighed, slightly curling in on himself as he focused on the road. The snow was only mildly awful at the moment, but winter in Indiana could turn on a dime and Eddie wasn’t looking to run his van off the road just because Jeff was grilling him about his stupid little completely non-existent crush. 

“Well, what do you want from him?” Jeff asked, dragging the first word slowly out as he thought about what he wanted to say. Sometimes the other members of Hellfire would do things like that— talk slow or choose words carefully, just to try and avoid Eddie’s sparky temper. 

Unfortunately for him, Eddie was already worked up about this particular topic. 

“Great question!” Eddie snapped, going to throw his hands up before choosing to be wise and hold the wheel steady. A small squall was beginning to form around them, and his visibility was starting to cut to next to none.

“Okay, okay,” Jeff said, placating to Eddie’s need to be a bit of an asshat, “So what happened between you and Steve that’s got Gareth so pressed?”

If it was any other person in the car with him, Eddie might have been able to fake it. Even Frank might have fallen for a lie about Gareth’s hatred of jocks and conformity and how Steve was just a representation of that. 

But it was Jeff. Jeff, who was their Earth, who knew that Gareth’s grudge wouldn’t have lasted this long if it wasn’t motivated by protectiveness. That the only reason Gareth wouldn’t have started to warm up even a little bit was his need to make sure his people were safe. 

Few things in life were assured, but death, taxes, and Gareth Winston’s need to protect his own were all a given.  

“Steve probably doesn’t even remember, so it doesn’t matter,” Eddie muttered, evading the question just as he narrowly evaded a pothole that seemed to appear out of thin air on the road in front of them. The storm was picking back up again, and this was not the conversation to be having right at this moment.  

“Well, do you want him to fuck you?” Jeff asked bluntly, cutting through the fat and straight to the juicy meat of the problem. 

“Jeff!” Eddie blurted out, a nervous burst of laughter escaping along with his name. He took the risk of looking away from the road for a few seconds to give the other boy a wild-eyed look, but Jeff seemed unphased, cool as a cucumber as a lion’s smile began to curl on his face. 

“Do you want to fuck him?” 

Unbidden, a dozen images flashed through Eddie’s head. Steve in his bed. Steve shirtless. Steve underneath him with his hair splayed out on the pillows, wrists trapped in gleaming silver cuffs as he begged so pretty for—

No. 

No no no no no no NO. 

“Dude!” Eddie groaned, turning away from the road again to shout at Jeff. 

And then it happened. 

Jeff’s shit-eating grin disappeared, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates as he shouted a wordless warning cry and Eddie had less than a second to turn back to the road, slamming his foot on the brake and throwing his arm out to protect Jeff from the inevitable crash. 

There was something on the road in front of them. The snow made it impossible to see beyond the shape, but, whatever it was, it was massive. Huge, and hulking, with a dark shadow that sent a chill down Eddie’s spine, and he was sure his van wouldn’t survive the impact. 

But no impact came. 

His tires skidded, the van turned half a quarter, but no collision, no smashing glass, no pain. Just twin panting from him and Jeff, and an empty road all around them. 

“What was that?” Jeff whispered when he was able to form words again. 

“A deer, I guess,” Eddie murmured back, not really feeling all that sure of his answer. He had never seen a deer like that, but he also hadn’t really seen anything. His wild imagination wanted to run with it, but there was no point. Whatever it was, it was gone, and that’s what mattered. 

He leaned back against his seat, his heart still racing as he patted Jeff’s chest twice, slightly assured when he could feel Jeff’s heart pounding through his shirt as well.

“Sorry.” 

“Shouldn’t’ve distracted you,” Jeff mumbled, lacing his fingers together to hide how badly they were shaking. 

“Hey, not your fault,” Eddie said, knowing how Jeff’s anxiety tended to latch to any blame it could when it got tripped like this. Eddie tested the van, carefully pulling back onto the right side of the road. They stayed quiet as Eddie turned them towards Jeff’s house, driving at a turtle’s pace with both hands on the wheel. 

“I want to help him,” Eddie offered into the silence, eyes firm on the road. “If I can.”

When Jeff didn’t immediately respond, Eddie thought that was the end of the conversation, but as they approached Jeff’s neighborhood, the boy next to him spoke up again. 

“Steve needs the help. Something’s really wrong with him, Eds.”

“You’re turning over to Gareth’s side?” Eddie joked, the words thin and frail and instantly disappearing the second he put them in the air. 

“No,” Jeff replied, no veil of humor over his words. “There’s something wrong with him like there’s something wrong with me.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Eddie said on instinct, hating the bitter scoff Jeff gave. He pulled up to a stop sign and put the van all the way in park, turning in his seat and giving Jeff his full attention 

“Look at me.” Eddie ordered, waiting until Jeff’s dark eyes met his own in the dim light of the streetlamp before speaking again. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Jeff. Nothing.” He said, making sure that there was zero wiggle room in his voice. 

Because there wasn’t, and Eddie hated that his best friend thought there was. There was something wrong with Hawkins, with the country they lived in, with the world. There was something wrong with a species that somehow made color a defining factor in a person’s worth, but there was not, and never would be, anything wrong with who Jeff was.

“Fine, then something wrong happened to both of us,” Jeff amended, a ghost of a smile crossing his face at Eddie’s insistence. “Either way, just be careful with him,” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be giving Steve the shovel talk? Not the other way around?” Eddie joked, putting the van back in gear and turning onto Jeff’s street. 

“When you get him, I’ll give him the talk,” Jeff promised, crossing his heart as he did. 

When, not if. Just one word instead of the other, but a flush of warmth flooded Eddie from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Jeff was right to use the word ‘when’, because Eddie’s chances were not even ‘if’, but he loved the positivity. 

“Have a good night, man,” Jeff said as they pulled into his driveway, holding out a hand for a quick shake as he unbuckled his seatbelt.  

“Hey,” Eddie called, grabbing the edge of Jeff’s coat as he stepped out of the van. “Us freaks stick together. Always.”

It was a little reminder, just a hint of a conversation they had over a year ago, but judging by the way Jeff’s eyes softened and his shoulders lowered, he knew exactly what Eddie was reminding him of. 

“Always,” Jeff echoed, squeezing Eddie’s wrist once before he hurried towards his darkened house and slipped inside. Eddie waited till the porch light turned off before sighing heavily, resting his head against the steering wheel for a moment before reversing again. 

Back to the lion’s den. 

The house was dark as Eddie quietly let himself back in, but the glow of the pool and the embers of the fire crackling in the fireplace gave just enough light to see the aftermath of the party. It wasn’t half as bad as some of the messes Eddie had seen from Steve’s previous parties, but it was still pretty messy. There would be a lot of cleanup coming tomorrow, and Eddie’s heart ached when he thought about Steve spending Christmas Eve alone cleaning up his house. 

Damn this boy. Eddie didn’t even celebrate Christmas, and here he was worrying over Steve about being alone for it. 

Maybe Wayne wouldn’t mind having one more person over for dinner. Usually it was just the two of them, but Wayne loved his strays almost as much as Eddie did, and Steve was an easy guy to care about. 

Eddie would ask him tomorrow morning. Call before anyone woke up and see what Wayne said. Then he would offer to help clean and ask Steve when it was just the two of them. After all, no one should be alone on the holidays. 

Eddie was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost missed the sound of an angel singing somewhere up above. 

Are you lonesome tonight?

Do you miss me tonight?

Are you sorry we drifted apart?

But no, there was no missing that voice. Eddie was a connoisseur of music, but he already knew that almost any other song was ruined for him. He was the cat caught by the canary instead of the other way around, lost in the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in years. It was deeper now, fuller, grown almost into a man from the boy he had been the last time Eddie heard him sing.  

Does your memory stray to a bright summer day

When I kissed you and called you sweetheart?

He climbed the stairs slowly, drawn like a moth to a flame, knowing it would burn, but needing to be close anyway. 

Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare?

Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

Outside the room now, Eddie could see it all while still staying hidden. Steve was sitting on the floor, his head leaned back against the bed that was filled to the bursting with his sleeping children. 

His entire self was on display for Eddie, not just his body, but his soul and his mind, a gift being given without knowing, and Eddie was too selfish not to take it. 

Is your heart filled with pain?

Shall I come back again?

This was the boy Gareth couldn’t see, but the one Eddie couldn’t stop looking for. A boy who knew their first memory together. Without a doubt. Who had never forgotten, no matter how much Eddie tried to convince himself he had. 

There was no other reason to pick this song. 

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

And without permission Eddie was thrust into a memory.

Despite it only being his sophomore year, Eddie was more than used to getting detention. In the two years since he had moved to Hawkins, Eddie had earned his ‘problem child’ status at least twice over. This particular afternoon, he was stuck sitting at a graffitied desk in the detention room because he dared to argue when his teacher told him that it was valid to not believe in evolution when it went against your religious beliefs. 

Evolution. The base of all humanity. 

She was wrong, but she was the one with all the power, so Eddie was the one in trouble. 

Still it could’ve been worse. Wayne had given him the van for his fifteenth birthday, so he wasn’t stuck waiting on the steps for a ride home after missing the bus. It wasn’t technically legal, but Hopper tended to look the other way as long as Eddie continued to give him discounts on ‘merchandise’. 

All Eddie had to do was wait out the clock. Mr. Whiter had already fallen asleep at the desk up front and at six, Eddie would be free. Maybe he could even stop at Benny’s. The man always gave him extra fries to bring home to Wayne, and Eddie was making good money now that Rick was in the slammer. He was the last dealer left in town, so things were looking up. 

Well things would be looking up, except the kid next to him refused to stop sniffling. 

Eddie muffled an irritated sigh, sliding his eyes over to take stock of the boy sitting across the way. Clearly a freshman, and obviously his first time in detention. He was looking around the room with wide-eyed horror, slightly terrified of every single thing he saw, and obviously trying to brush tears away from his bruised cheek and busted lip. 

Normally, Eddie would just tell him to shut up. That detention was barely anything to have to deal with in the grand scheme of things, but he had seen the fight that landed the kid in detention, and it had been bad enough to warrant some misery. 

One second he and another boy (obviously a friend given how upset the kid was) were laughing by his locker, and the next second they were exchanging blows. It had been bad, taking three teachers to separate them, and somehow this kid had gotten in trouble for the whole thing!

But Eddie had seen the start, and it was the other twerp that had thrown the first punch. Yet somehow, he was already on the bus home and this schmuck was stuck in detention with the Freak of Hawkins High

The unjustness gnawed at Eddie’s soul, and the longer the kid sat there doing nothing but brush at his already dry cheeks, the harder it was to ignore him. 

Fuck it. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon. 

Eddie grabbed his notebook, slamming it open to a fresh page and dragging his favorite purple pen across the paper, taking a cursory glance at Mr. Whiter’s snoring form before sliding his chair over to the other boy. 

“Hi!” Eddie said, throwing a big smile in the kids direction and hoping that would grease the wheels a little. Eddie knew how intimidating he could look to the rest of the world, and he liked it that way, but it sometimes made it hard to make friends. 

Sure enough, the kid startled the second Eddie spoke, looking at him the way a deer looks at the hunter right before they hear the death shot. He didn’t seem like the type to just outright tell Eddie to fuck off, but he did look massively uncomfortable with Eddie invading his space.  

Oh well, what was the worst that could happen?

“Wanna kill some time?” Eddie offered, holding up his notebook before placing it down on the desk in front of them. A tic tac toe board sat in the middle of the page, and a scorecard was up in the top corner with the word ‘Eddie' on one side and the words ‘Random Kid 'on the other. 

A barely there smile glanced across the kids face as he looked down at the page, and then those big brown eyes were on him. Eddie waited patiently, forcing his body to stay still which was actually a pretty herculean task— not that this kid knew. He had the worm on the hook and the line in the water, and now he was just waiting for the curious fish to bite. 

Whatever the kid was looking for, he must’ve found it because that same soft, shy smile was gifted to Eddie as he leaned down, rooting around in his backpack for his own pen. When he found the one he was looking for, he carefully crossed over Eddie’s purple writing, replacing ‘Random Kid’ with just one word instead. 

“Well, Steve, let’s hope your tic-tac-toe powers are better than your fighting skills,” Eddie joked, pleased when instead of getting mad, Steve’s cheeks darkened in a pretty little blush, and he simply ducked his head with a soft protest and an embarrassed smile. 

They played a few rounds in relative silence, the occasional quiet groan or cheer when one or the other managed to clinch a victory. It was nice, a little boring, but far preferable to what they had been doing before. 

And then Steve’s pen died. 

It was a slow death, long and drawn out with some furious scribbling to try and get one last juice for the squeeze. 

“Here, man, just take mine. I’ve got a spare somewhere,” Eddie offered, not even thinking twice as he gave away his favorite pen, even though he never let anyone borrow that pen. Wayne had gotten it for him on a day trip to Indianapolis for his birthday, just a tiny trinket to commemorate the day, and Eddie loved it to death. 

There was no way Steve could have known that, and yet he was looking at the pen like it was a live snake. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Steve asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the clearly treasured object in front of him. 

Eddie looked up at the other boy, furrowing his brow. 

“Why not?” Eddie said with a shrug, going back to his notebook with a plain black pen. He was scratching out another tic-tac-toe board to add to the dozens that were already on the page, but paused when he saw Steve wasn’t picking up his own pen. 

“People aren’t just nice,” Steve insisted, giving Eddie an unexpectedly guarded look. “They always want something…so what do you want from me?” 

“I want to make this afternoon a little less unbearable, I want to fight the system, and I want to make you feel better.” Eddie offered, quirking his head to the side and picking up his favorite purple pen to offer once more to the other boy, “Isn’t that enough?” 

They stared at each other for a long second, until Steve’s face broke into an incredulous smile and he ducked his head down. 

“You’re really weird,” he said with a soft laugh, taking the pen. It was a lovely sound, like birds singing in the morning, or the first soft strum of a guitar as practice began. 

Eddie needed to hear it again.

From there they were off, talking about everything and anything. Eddie shared about all of the  ridiculous reasons he had gotten detention over the years, and Steve explained that the other punk from the fight was Tommy, apparently his best friend for his entire life. They had lived next to each other since Steve had moved to Hawkins as a kid, and had done every single thing together. The reason Tommy had started the fight was Steve had told him he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to basketball try-outs tomorrow. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just want to try some other stuff too you know?” Steve said, looking up from their game to catch Eddie’s eye, “We’re in high school now, so it’s the time to try something new, isn’t it?” 

“Sure it is!” Eddie agreed eagerly, holding himself back from going on a diatribe about the laundry basket devils that ran the school and instead talking about all of the clubs he was in. He couldn’t really see Steve enjoying Marching Band or Creative Writing, but Drama might be a good fit, or maybe Art. 

“You could even join the new club I’m trying to start if you wanted,” Eddie offered, trying to stay casual but practically vibrating at the thought of having someone else to show Higgins that Hellfire was worthy of a place at the table. 

“A new club?” Steve asked. 

“Yea, it’s gonna be great,” Eddie started, taking a deep breath to start his long rant about the joys of dungeons and dragons, “So it’s called—”

“Alright boys,” a nasally voice droned from the front of the room. “Time to pack it up.”

Both boys jumped at Mr. Whiter’s interruption, and Eddie rolled his eyes, frustrated at being stopped right as he had started to get to the good stuff. The geometry teacher either didn’t notice or didn’t care, too eager to get back to his own home to do whatever geometry teachers did when they weren’t at school. 

If Eddie had to guess, it was probably fucking their wives with compasses while reciting geometric formulas as foreplay. That seemed right. 

“And don’t let me catch you in here again, Mr. Harrington. I would hope your parents had taught you better,” Mr. Whiter said as they trudged past him. His blank potato looking face was only showing the barest hints of disappointment, but that was still enough to make Steve cringe away.

“Yes sir,” he whispered, all joy from the last hour they had spent together vanishing in an instant.

“What? No warning for me Mr. Whiter?” Eddie inquired, batting his eyes and trying to take the attention away from Steve. 

“I don’t particularly like wasting my breath on hopeless cases, Mr. Munson,” Whiter droned, half raising one brow, as if shocked that Eddie would even bother to ask for an admonishment. “Try to get your homework done tonight, will you? I’d hate to add another zero to my gradebook,”

Hot shame rushed down Eddie’s spine, replaced quickly by a lightning fury that made his lips loose and his logic take a quick hike. 

“Well, I don’t particularly like making promises I can’t keep, sorry Tighty-Whiteys!” Eddie declared, grabbing Steve’s hand and dragging him away before they could get in any trouble because of Eddie’s big fat mouth. 

“Jesus H Christ, that guys a dick!” Eddie shouted, both boys laughing breathlessly as they burst through the doors of the school. 

“You gonna do the homework?” Steve said through his giggles. 

“Now? Hell no!” Eddie swore, cackling as he did and jumping up onto the low wall next to the school. “Gotta fight the system however you can, Stevie. Trust me. Listen to your elders.”

“Whatever you say,”  Steve said, continuing to laugh at Eddie’s antics. He idly looked around the parking lot, his mood starting to darken as he looked again, searching the parking lot again, but Eddie wasn’t exactly sure what for. 

Then Steve sighed, plopping down on the curb and wrapping his arms around his knees resting his chin on top of them and rapidly blinking. 

“What’re you doin’?” Eddie asked with concern, shocked at Steve’s sudden turn and hopping down from his spot on the wall. 

“My parents aren’t here,” Steve muttered glumly, staring out at the empty lot instead of looking at Eddie as he sat on the curb next to Steve. “The school called after the fight, and they knew when I was getting out, but my dad’s probably going to make me wait ‘till after dinner or something.”

It wasn’t exactly the most damning thing to say in the world, Eddie could think of a dozen things that his dad had done to him that were worse, but the thought of making his own son wait for hours in the cold and dark still made something in his stomach squirm. He could never imagine Wayne doing anything like that to him.

Steve curled up even tighter around himself, completely unaware of Eddie’s internal struggle. 

“God, I bet they’re so pissed.” Steve whispered into his knees. “And now my dad’s going to have to come get me, and he’s going to be even madder about that—”

“Why don’t I give you a ride home?” Eddie offered in an instant, shocking even himself with the boldness of the offer. He had just met the kid only an hour ago, but Steve’s genuine nature touched something in him, and there was a magnetic pull to want to help him that Eddie couldn’t quite explain just yet. “Then at least they won’t be mad at you about needing a ride, right?”

It would make more sense for Steve to say no, to try and play it off, but instead he was giving Eddie a watery smile and a look of gratitude as he nodded, starting to stand. 

Eddie had never really worried about what the van looked like, but as they walked towards where it was, Eddie jogged ahead, trying to throw the multitudes of wrappers and junk into the back where Steve wouldn’t see. Luckily for him, the younger boy seemed enraptured by the simple fact that Eddie had a car at all. 

“I want something cool like a Beemer or a truck, but my mom doesn’t want me to get a car ‘till I’m 18,” Steve said idly, pausing and furrowing his brow as he did, “She’s really weird about me driving for some reason.” 

Hopefully, she wouldn’t feel too weird about a random guy giving her kid a ride home in a kidnapper van. 

“Pick a tape for us to listen to,” Eddie offered as he climbed into the driver's seat, fighting with his seatbelt as Steve perused his choices. Unfortunately, Steve quickly skipped over all of the metal that Eddie had at the front of the pack, but soon familiar notes began to sing, and Eddie’s shoulders relaxed as he recognized the song. 

“Ahhhh, The King. A good choice,” Eddie commented as Elvis’s voice began to croon out into the air between them. 

“Who could hate this song?” Steve asked rhetorically, a wry grin on his face as the tune began to take shape.

“I always loved that nickname,” Steve said off handedly, staring out the window at the rows of corn, “King.” 

“You should steal it then,” Eddie said automatically. Sure, Steve was a kid right now, but Eddie could see it in his eyes. A few years, a couple more inches, and that kid would have the world eating out of his palm. That sweet nature, that funny little humor, ‘King’ wasn’t too hard to imagine when it came to Steve. 

“Maybe,” Steve replied, drawing out the word with a tone that showed that he wasn’t sure about that. He gave Eddie a few more directions, and they got closer and closer to their time being done together. A strange desperation started to make Eddie’s heart race, like he could feel the two of them pulling back into their roles, backing away from whatever they had this afternoon. 

“It’s got a good ring to it. King Steve,” Eddie pushed, pausing and making the turn into Loch Nora before he put his heart on the line. 

“Why don’t you blow off basketball try-outs tomorrow? Come to my club I’m starting instead. You can meet my friends.”

It was a chance, a choice. Steve could make the right one, and be one of them, or he could get sucked into Hawkins and all of it’s hell hole small town bullshit. Eddie was giving him an out. 

“That sounds really fun,” Steve said in a small voice, a secret smile shared between them before it was ruined by a shout from the house in front of them. 

“Steven!”

It was a woman’s voice, and Steve’s entire body stiffened. No more smiles, no more relaxing, Steve was a rod of pure steel, with a blank unaffected face. A man and a woman, Steve’s mother and father presumably, were standing on the porch together, twin faces of disappointed gravity that stole all of the air out of the van. 

“Well, wish me luck,” Steve laughed without humor, his fingers worrying over the straps of his backpack as he started to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asked, already knowing in his stomach that he wouldn’t. 

“Tomorrow,” Steve said, the word so thin and frail now. 

And he was gone. Out of the car, and most definitely out of Eddie’s life. But if he was losing this like he seemed to lose everything, Eddie wanted to at least say a proper goodbye. 

“See you later Alligator!” Eddie shouted through the window. Steve turned back, haloed by the setting sun, looking far too angelic for a gangly fourteen year old. 

“In a while Crocodile,” Steve called back with a slight laugh, just a shadow of his former self, turning and rushing to his waiting parents who gave Eddie one last glare before slamming the door shut. 

Eddie waited a second, staring at the locked door and listening to the song on the radio, wishing that the burning in his eyes would just disappear the way Steve had. 

Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and care?

Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

Is your heart filled with pain

Shall I come back again?

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

Eddie opened his eyes again, back in the present, to find Steve already watching him. 

In another world, things worked out differently, but not in this one. 

In reality, Steve didn’t come to Hellfire the next day. Tommy was at his locker bright and early, there to laugh the whole thing off and drag Steve to try-outs come hell or high water. Eddie had seen the whole thing, and he had known then and there Steve wasn’t one of them. Steve’s cheek was still bruised, but there were finger shapes on his wrist that definitely hadn’t been there the day before during detention. He had glanced at Eddie, but quickly glanced away, agreeing loudly that try-outs were going to be awesome. 

When Steve had caught his eye that day, when he had tried to say he was sorry without words, Eddie hadn’t been in a place to listen. He had a thousand chips of his own weighing on his shoulders, and an inability to see anything but his own opinion as right. 

There was no way to be two things at once, not back then. 

But that bruised beat up kid was in front of him again, big hazel eyes begging for forgiveness again. And this time, Eddie finally felt ready to give it to him. 

“Hi Alligator,” Eddie whispered, the words barely able to get out past the lump in his throat. A small smile graced Steve’s lips as his eyes began to shine in the dark. 

“It’s been a while, Crocodile,” Steve whispered back. 

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name@minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[getvalentined]

Thinking about how about half a year ago this video came out and I got to this bit:

And I literally said, very quietly to myself "...No. No way. They didn't—they wouldn't."

Because we've seen this scene before, right? In a thousand anime, a million movies, we've all seen the teenagers looking at fireworks together, and one turns to the other to say something, sees the look on their friend's face and stops, because that look on their friend's face is more precious and important than anything they could have to say. That moment when they realize something about themselves, or confirm something about themselves.

We've seen this scene before, but I couldn't fathom that this was intentional. Even having played Scarlet and Violet, where Nemona looks at the player and essentially says "my treasure is you," I couldn't imagine that was what they wanted from this scene—after all, she has the same line in-game regardless of whether you're playing a boy or a girl. The queer implications aren't unintentional, per se, it's just that it's less work to let her have the same dialogue regardless. I never assumed it was set up with a female player character in mind, because why would it be?

But this scene...that's just Juliana. A custom Juliana design, no less! But they didn't mean it that way, they couldn't have meant it. This is the largest media franchise in the world. There was no way.

...And then this happened immediately after:

And I literally started crying because yes, yes they did, they would and they did, holy shit.

"My treasure is you."

I know a lot of younger LGBTQ+ folk don't understand what a huge deal this is, but it is a huge fucking deal. I'm old enough that I remember when too much implication of queerness in popular media could get a series shut down entirely, so I'm always blown away when I see even an inkling of representation in a major media franchise—even if it's definitely just a matter of programming convenience.

This is absolutely not just convenience, this is completely intentional and equally overt, and over half a year later I still get super emotional thinking about it.

What a time to be alive.

Happy Pride, y'all.

[frankendykez]

as an ex-muslim queer i cannot stand the (mostly never have been muslim) people who keep complaining about muslim queer characters or even irl muslim queer people. i know i'm gonna get hate for this but tbh idrc so Please shut up and don't say anything at all if you ever see a fictional or real, especially real, muslim person who is LGBTQ+ in any sort of way. you are not helping to battle islamophobia in anyway and do you know how wrong it sounds when you tell them to just convert to atheism or stop being queer? i dont care if you're muslim yourself. i especially do not care if you are not muslim at all! Shut Up! I don't care if the creator of the lesbian hijabi xey/xem enby is a white atheist, queer muslims needs representation as much as non-queer muslims! you wouldn't tell people to stop writing non-queer muslims cuz they're not muslims themselves, would you? i agree that muslims can write themselves best, but still. i converted out of islam due to personal religious trauma, which my queerness is apart of, but so what? i am not everyone. if you allow or even encourage christisn and jews to still be connected to their faith whilst being queer, then why cannot muslims do the same? "b-but the qur'an!!-" not your problem is it? LMAO. let them do as they please, it's not your problem. queer people have existed everywhere as all sorts of people. y'all need to start minding your business because i need you lot to understand no one cares about what you think about them. no matter what the qur'an says people live and intepret their religions in different ways to you (why religious sects even exist in the first place). so. shut up!

dni zionists, terfs, radfems & islamophobes. this post is not for you!

[oldwritingm]

Hi could you do a Stan , Kyle ,Kenny , Craig, and Tweek x reader (separate) who has POTS and H-EDS , I just can’t find any representation in any fics, thank you and I hope you have a wonderful day

Of course!! I'm always more than happy to give y'all some representation! (and as always please let me know if I've written anything incorrectly,, I'm always trying to learn more! plus I never want to hurt you guys qwq)

South Park - Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Craig, and Tweek With a Reader Who Has POTS and H-EDS

Tweek

This poor soul spends every waking minute worrying about you

No matter how many times you try to tell him that you can handle yourself, he's never convinced

Standing up? He's at your side in a millisecond, even if he was across the room before

"Are you dizzy? Are you okay?"

His hands are under your armpits, ready to stabilize you, before you can even respond

And he's so so gentle with you, and even scolds you for not being gentle with yourself

"Hey hey hey! Take it easy!!"

When he first found out about your conditions, he pulled several all-nighters in a row researching everything about them

He has a little notebook filled with notes on the disorders

Sometimes he'll whip out a fact that even you didn't even know

He made a point to memorize everything, mainly because he was worried that if he forgot something you'd somehow die because of it :(

Honestly he's almost as affected by it as you are; he makes himself sick with worry

Over time he might get better, but in any case you can always comfort him by just taking it easy

And cuddling him while you do :)

Craig

When you first told him about your conditions, he was just like "what."

You explained it to him, of course, but he didn't bother to do any research beyond that

He figures that you know yourself and you can take care of yourself

But at the same time he's conscious about the things you can struggle with (only because you told him)

Like, when you stand up, he keeps his eye on you for a while

Or when you hit something on accident, even lightly, he asks if you're okay

And he checks the spot later for bruising/swelling/etc

"Lemme look at that spot on your leg that hit the table earlier."

He's not prone to worrying too much, but when he does worry he asks for your thoughts too

Especially if he wants to take you to the hospital

Because ultimately he trusts you to know yourself, and he's not going to go against your wishes

Unless you're like, clearly in need of emergency services

Then he's calling the ambulance no matter what you say

But overall he's pretty normal about it, he'll only make a big deal when he's worried

Stan

He definitely asks you a lot of questions about your conditions

He's not only curious, he wants to know how to help you

And even when he's well educated, he'll keep asking questions

"How are you feeling today? Is it worse or better than usual?"

They are not always... intelligent questions

But he's just trying to figure out how he can help you in the moment

Because that's always his goal; if you need his help, he wants to be there

But he'll back off (reluctantly) if you tell him to

He'll ask "are you sure" at least three times first though 💀

He's definitely a worrier, and helping you quells his anxiety just a bit

Either way he's keeping an eye on you

And he's buying you cute compression socks (if you use them)

He'll be over the moon if you actually wear them, not only because he likes knowing you're just a bit more comfortable + safe, but because he feels like he's helping :)

Kyle

He already knew what your conditions were when you told him (vaguely, at least)

But he decided to research them more in-depth when he realized that someone he cared about had them

His first search was: "how to help a loved one with POTS/H-EDS"

(he totally blushed while typing in "loved one")

But after that he dove deep into the more technical side,, like medical journals and stuff

He probably subscribes to a journal that specifically focuses on your conditions,, just so he can keep up-to-date on any new information

He does all this without telling you though, of course

He'll admit it if you somehow manage to find out about this, but he's going to try hard to make sure you don't find out

He doesn't want you thinking he's obsessed or whatever

But he low-key is

Even if you don't find out, you'll be seriously suspicious

Because he'll just whip out the most hyper-specific fact or bring up a new study

"You know they did a study on how [x] affects [y symptom], and they found that [x] can actually help. Maybe you can try it, or something."

He feels good when his knowledge actually helps you, though he also tries not to be a smart alec about it

Because, no matter how much research he does, he'll never know what you know from experience

(rare "Kyle being humble" moment spotted 🤯)

Kenny

I honestly don't think he'd take you all that seriously at first

Like, to him, if it doesn't affect your personality it isn't important

When you first told him he probably said something like:

"Damn babygirl, you still fine asf though.."

Only partially ironically 💀 (also, he uses "babygirl" as a gender-neutral term)

It's only when he actually sees you being affected by it that he gets worried

He totally freaks out the first time, and after that he sits down with you and makes you actually explain things to him

He tries to commit them to memory, but he's not going to remember everything

And he's pretty self-aware about that, so he just tries to be careful around you

Not "walking on eggshells" careful, just "no roughhousing/rough play"

And he always double-checks whenever you switch gears in terms of physical activity

"Doing okay? Need to sit down?"

He'll hold your hand and sit with you whenever you do need to sit down :)

And he'll talk casually; he always feels better when you're sitting

Mainly because he knows that's the only way you can't hurt yourself... just sitting doing nothing

Thank you for this request! And thanks so much for reading, take care duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

[mewos-laptop]

A lot of y'all have PAINFULLY missed the point of the story Mouthwashing is telling through Anya.

Now, take everything I say with a grain of salt, as *I am not a victim or survivor of sexual assault or rape*, however I know a disturbing amount of folks who ARE victims, and know quite a bit about the reactions and thought processes of those who have gone through sexual assault.

Anya's story is not one of revenge. That is not the story that is being told.

As much as I would love to see a story of a victim triumphantly killing their rapist, that is not what Mouthwashing's story is about, and you need to accept that.

Mouthwashing is telling a story about real life, it's giving you a realistic representation of what most rape cases are ACTUALLY like.

From what I know, none of the perpetrators of my friends' sexual assault have been given jail time, even if they were reported and the police were given proof.

Most of my friends' family members and friends didn't notice how uncomfortable they were around their abuser, nor what was happening, and I doubt most of them could have truly done anything about it, either.

Even when *I* noticed, the most I could do was lead my friend away from their abuser and try to stay in between them.

Most everyone on Anya's ship knew, but there wasn't anything to be done. It was the middle of space, so what COULD they do? They enabled Anya's abuser because most of them were given no choice, and by the time that maybe they'd care enough to enact anything on him, he was the co-pilot, so *they couldn't do anything even if they wanted to*.

Anya would not have killed Jimmy. Anya tried to get the crew to notice what happened to her, and they couldn't protect her either.

That's the reality of sexual assault.

You are not going to be a warrior of justice, killing this rapist and freeing yourself from the chains of trauma, you are a victim.

No matter how angry, how disgusted, and horrified you may feel about the events of the game, that will not change the fact that Anya's story is representative of the reality of sexual assault, and the reality that millions of people actually live through.

So no, Anya would not kill Jimmy. The crew would not kill Jimmy.

Mouthwashing deals with this reality. You are meant to sit with it, to sit with the horror and the reality of the fact that Anya will never be the same, and would not ever be able to get revenge or closure.

Mouthwashing is telling the story of rape victims through the media of fiction, but that does not give you the right to rewrite that message into the satisfying ending you think every story needs to have.

My friends will never get their satisfying ending. My relatives will never get their satisfying ending. All of their rapists are free people, and alive right now.

The aftermath of rape is not a satisfying story.

[hussyknee]

Let me make this very clear right now.

Israel is not a legitimate state.

Zionism is no longer an abstract belief in a Jewish homeland but the ideological battleground of pro-Israeli colonizers.

Bombing two million civilians in an open air prison in retaliation for the actions of the underground militia you empowered by invading a country and killing civilians for decades is still genocide.

If you believe objecting to the razing of Gaza means supporting Hamas's attacks on Israeli civilians you are simply justifying genocide.

Look up the bombing of Warsaw 1944

The US has elected to support this open war crime.

Which is what the US's entire military history has been about.

If you try to whitewash or apologize for Biden to stop the USAmerican left splintering in next year's election you are a racist imperialist scumbucket who's already proving you will never hold your leaders accountable.

None of this excuses going after vulnerable Jewish minorities in the rest of the world, in fact, the more you harrass and endanger them, the more you will shore up support for Israel, because scared people have no choice but to circle their wagons around the only people offering them refuge.

This is exactly what happens to Palestinians with Hamas. Persecution of minorities leave them no choice but to support whoever will defend them.

For people to make better choices they must have the freedom to choose.

Support for Palestine must be unequivocal, because peace only happens when you take the chainsaw away from a maniac trying to kill people with it for throwing rocks at them.

This is not a fight against Jews but against the violent colonial apartheid state created by USA and Britain because they didn't want to deal with the Jewish refugees and but wanted a foothold in the Middle East. It meant they could frame the Jewish diaspora as people that belonged to another country and manipulate them via a state over which they had no representation or political agency. It is effectively a Sword of Damocles they have been dangling over the heads of Jewish diasporas disguised as support for a Jewish homeland.

Fascism knows no race or religion. It's about fear and power sold as the price of stability and safety. No group of humans will ever be inoculated against its lure, no matter how keenly they have suffered.

No human being is acceptable collateral. If you fire on a human shield you are as much murderer as those holding them up and must answer for it.

I will be treating any discourse on this as a free blocklist. My people, the Sinhalese, did exactly this to Sri Lankan Tamils. There are no variations in the ethnofascist playbook. The blood on our hands will never wash away, and it will not for you either.

"Yeah but Palestinians elected Hamas in a free and fair election—" y'all elected Bush twice because a handful of Saudis killed 3000 people in one attack. So maybe understand that terrified people who are actually being genocided also want to be led by the biggest bully, and shut the fuck up.