#so far i've only been in one this year and it was bc it was a tiny market in a tiny town next to mine

[drdemonprince]

i'd like to say sth abt the x gender marker thing. i've just started getting the paperwork done for it myself, and although its an exhausting grueling bureaucratic pricess, it's filling me w the kind of joy i last felt when i got my first hrt prescription. i know i will have constant difficulties in a system of institutions that have no official way of dealing w nonbinary identities, and i fully expect the openly white nationalist party in my country to become a significant influence in national government within the next 10 years. i also have an escape plan of sorts, but i'm fully expecting that i may be legally detransitioned again. i would still be betraying myself fundamentally and stealing joy from myself, something that i get to have very little of, if i didn't do it anyway, bc i already cannot access plenty of services including healthcare bc i'm simply too dysphoric and institutionally traumatized to show up and be misgendered. there is no such thing as stealth or passing for a nonbinary person in the society i live in, only erasure; i might as well exercise this tiny amount of power i have been given for a brief time to force them to acknowledge me as who i am. i agree that having one's gender be irrelevant to one's personhood, including legally, would be vastly preferable, but i don't see how me getting an x in my id detracts from or otherwise influences that. my government already has plenty of ways of getting lists of trans ppl if they ever want one. i may be painting a target on my back, but as far as i am concerned, it is already there bc i am already incredibly vulnerable and restricted as a trans person for whom passing or stealth is not an option. i might as well get marginalized for who and what i am and make them look me in the eye at a doctor's office while they awkwardly tell me they don't have the infrastructure to process me as a patient than cringe and stammer while i tell them that actually i'm transgender and i would prefer for them to address me as this or that while knowing damn well they just see me as a quirky woman that they may or may not humor for hashtag diversity's sake. they may still do that ofc, but for all the risks and trouble i am incurring, it also corrects the scales of institutional power just a tiny bit in my favor by giving me legal grounds to argue. i'm also terrified of the police for good reasons, but i'm more terrified of them as a misgendered and scared but not out trans person unsure if and how much to advocate for myself than i am as someone confident enough to at least get hurt for who i am, rather than for who i am not and hiding out of fear of worse punishment. i am not advocating for anyone else to do or not do the same bc it is a subjective and highly varied set of risks and rewards that must be personally evaluated, and above all i'm very aware that as a white (not us) person, for all the institutional violence i have previously endured, i would be risking far worse if i were not, but as far as i am concerned, it feels like one of the best, most powerful things i can do for myself right now is to get the damn papers even if in the worst case they end up taking them away from me again.

Thanks for sharing your experience. I remember that when I was nonbinary and not medically transitioning, I felt much the same way. I was ready to really throw myself on the pyre for the sake of just actually being seen as not the gender I had been forced to be, for once. And honestly? Nothing short of medical transition did that. All the changes to my personal style, hair, comportment, voice training, the pronoun pins, the asserting myself, the putting pronouns in my email signature, the changing my medical forms and documentation at work to make me nonbinary, none of it made what felt like any lick of difference in how i was treated, because nonbinary identities are so thoroughly erased. The ONLY thing that got people to start treating me as gender ambiguous or to they/them me was to begin to transition as a trans man and use he/him pronouns, lol. (And eventually, most people did switch over to actually gendering me correctly as a guy, tho I still do get the they/them once in a while which annoys me and it's always VERY telling who tends to do it).

I don't know your situation or if you have medically transitioned in any fashion or not, or if you even want to, and our stories are different, but all of which is to say, I know how immensely frustrating it is and how confining it is to interpreted as your assigned gender seemingly no matter what you fucking do, and that sensation of being willing to take on serious risk to be seen. if anything that was part of what tipped me over into self conceptualizing as a gender nonconforming man rather than outside the binary altogether. different risks that i chose to take on, but still, the decision to take on risk rather than be locked away inside how people saw me.

I think structural nonbinary erasure runs so deep that very few individual level actions can make a dent in it and it's maddening. Of course there's all the intersections with transmisogyny that also impact who is visible as trans and who is not and who finds themselves yearning for greater visibility and those for whom visibility is nothing but massive vulnerability that itself cannot be escaped. But I understand that you've considered everything carefully and are aware of the risks in what you're taking on, and I hope that it does mean you don't feel that confined unseen feeling anymore. Because as much as I'm qualifying things I do know how fucking awful that sensation is and how few avenues there are for doing a damn thing about it that people will take seriously.

[onyourstageleft]

[kuromi-hoemie]

having vague thoughts about E3 and the current state of AAA game development in general..

like yeah direct promotions have had more of an impact than Big Events for me, and the main thing I'd want to see out of E3 are trailers for new games or the conversations that follow online - but a few points on that

I can just as easily look up “new games for [platform] [year]” on youtube

Something about the way AAA games are built these days makes me get bored of them ⅔ of the way through, if I even make it that far, on top of them charging more for less content and hiding away the rest behind multiple DLC packs

I've mostly been buying indies the past few years and have gotten a lot of fun out of them; they continue to deliver a nearly unrivaled experience of fun gameplay mechanics and interesting/emotional stories at a ridiculously low cost

I also have emulators for going back and playing old games I really liked so I'm not exactly desperate for new games

and idk!! weird to see E3 officially ending but I also think the landscape is very different these days including the game companies themselves. I'm not a game dev so I can't rly speak to what the change has looked like on their end over the past 10-20 yrs.

[knightdykes]

the second the lights go down I'm taking my edibles :3

[scarlettfevor]

How it feels to watch minecraft diaries as a 21 year old woman

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[graciousdragon]

guys...keep your eyes peeled tonight or perhaps tomorrow morning for I Have Cooked Something

[freeforaugust]

Communicate like an adult and get results :)

[sjweminem]

wait you were in a documentary????

sure was my man

[fridayyy-13th]

i am feeling So Many Things at the moment but mostly i just feel like a disaster

[xieliancore]

today i got rejected from another artist alley and that marks the 4th one i've been rejected from this year T.T who cursed me

[astrxealis]

okay rambles but i started creatively writing in like ... 5th grade? and. oh god just a little encouragement to anyone looking to get into writing or insecure or whatnot, but HELLS, maybe it's to he expected with my (obviously) very young age and inexperience with writing then, but my writing was really. yeah. Yeah. but then i'm what... a lot older now, obviously, and my writing has gotten leagues better. i'm probably not a good example for this bcs childhood years development stuff are different etc etc BUT practicing writing more and whatnot really does go a long way :]

[polygondotcomvideoproducer]

Uni lecture is making me think about my future for a minute and auuuggghhhh the agonies

[lesenbyan]

I think it says a lot about the narratives we're still not allowed to tell that I always feel immensely more kinship with sci-fi and fantasy biracial characters than those in fiction that more mirrors current day

[aethenia]

adhd medication is so crazy. you're telling me that over a decade of mental health problems have virtually all but been cured by one pill? that i have been writing a diary consistently for months? that i work 35-40 hours a week in a demanding, stressful job that i love? that i have been able to salvage and create friendships that i maintain? that i can get out of bed in the morning, keep my space clean, read regularly, and eat on a schedule? that all along, all those desperate hopes, those long nights and heartaches could have been avoided?

[deathnoting]

Literally had a dream last night that you got published and I was able to buy your book! Put me in a good mood for the rest of the day :)

!!!!!!! anon i hope you are psychic !!!!!

no but odds are i will one day publish a book & you will be able to buy it but that day is still far in the future judging by the progress i have been making on the novel lately

but thank you for the message! it is sweet & encouraging to know that somebody cares :'-)