#solidarity in knowing that this is something you need to experience to never go through again

[drvwing]

20s are destined for hard lessons

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

saw you might be taking requests? can you do a drabble where y/n is a survivor of domestic abuse and levi ends up raising his voice at some point and y/n gets triggered and levi comforts them? pls skip if ur uncomfortable with this!

absolutely LOVE that my very first aot request is heavy angst

You're Safe | Levi Hurt/Comfort Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1.6k (i think this word count is just my standard at this point lmao) ✧ content/warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, dissociation, canon!verse, reader is a survivor of domestic abuse, levi being comforting in his levi way, all the not fun stuff that comes with being a survivor, please let me know if i missed any trigger warnings! ✧ notes ➼ I know that everyone's experience with being a survivor is vastly different. If you would like it portrayed in a different way, feel free to send me another ask and I will try my best to match it :) Not sure if this needs to be said, but if you ever need support or solidarity, my ask is always open!

You could tell that something was off the minute he walked in through the door. 

While Levi was rarely in a “good” mood after expeditions, you could tell that this most recent one must have gone much worse than anticipated. It was already getting late into the night and your anxiety was already elevated, having been waiting for Levi to arrive back home all day. The debrief must have taken much, much longer than usual, which was never a good sign.

You came out of your study to meet him in the living room, your heart dropping when you saw the dark look on his face and how ruffled his uniform and hair was. 

“Levi?” you asked quietly as you approached him. 

You could tell that he was exhausted and incredibly stressed at the same time. He looked like he was about to collapse down onto the ground and that it was taking all his energy to keep going.

You reached out slowly and placed your hand on his arm, gently holding him. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, shrugging you off. “Just a long day.”

You gave him a small, half-hearted smile, knowing that it was definitely not “just a long day”. However, you knew that it took Levi much longer than a normal person to process distress and decompress and given the fact that he was in the Scouts and took regular deadly expeditions outside of the walls, distress was a constant in his life.

“You know that’s not true,” you said quietly, turning towards him as he walked past you. “Talk to me, Levi.”

He stopped walking and you heard a soft sigh come from his mouth. 

“Not now, _____.”

You frowned at him, knowing that “not now” easily translated to “not at all”. Although you knew to give him space, you also knew that if he went to bed in distress tonight, then he would wake up even worse tomorrow, which would make him detach even more, leading into an endless cycle of self-destruction and stonewalling.

“Levi, please,” you said, approaching him again. “What happened? Talk to me.”

He stopped walking and quickly glanced at you with irritation showing in his eyes.

“I said not now, _____!” he yelled out, a bit louder than he had intended to.

You felt yourself flinch and freeze as your blood ran cold. The sudden and drastic change from near silence to his voice bouncing off the walls immediately brought your mind from the present reality and into a dissociative state as you felt your eyes lose focus and your ability to perceive the room around you began to dissipate. Your breathing destabilized as you took a step back away from him.

Given your current state, you weren’t able to see Levi’s eyes widen as he realized what had just happened. You couldn’t see his face pale upon seeing your reaction. You couldn’t see him walking towards you as you quickly turned away, maintaining distance from him. You couldn’t see him open his mouth to speak or hear any words that were meant to come out after.

“I need to go to the restroom,” you muttered quickly as you rushed to the bathroom in the most composed way that you could, as tears began to cloud your vision.

Once you were in the bathroom, you shut the door behind you and leaned over the sink, unable to keep the tears back any longer. You shut your eyes as disturbing memories, ones that you thought you had stored away for good, emerged. You shook your head in an attempt to get them to go away and took a sharp inhale, your breath getting caught in your throat. You vaguely heard that your sobbing was audible due to your unsteady breathing and you quickly covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle yourself.

You felt the world begin to spin around you as you cursed at yourself in frustration. You didn’t understand why you were like this. What had happened was a long time ago. You knew that Levi wasn’t that person. You knew that he wouldn’t hurt you. You knew that, even when he was frustrated, he would never take his anger out on you. 

So why the hell do I still feel this way?!

You opened your eyes again once you heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door with it slightly opening since you hadn’t closed it all the way. You saw Levi approaching from the other side of the door and you immediately looked away, quickly wiping the tears off your face in a vain attempt to keep him from seeing your crying, although there was no hiding your swollen eyes or how red your nose had become from sniffling.

There was a solemn look on Levi’s usually expressionless face. He knew what was running through your head. He knew about the rampant thoughts that must have been plaguing your mind. His heart had dropped once he saw your reaction, but at that point, it was too late to take back what had just happened.

“Hey, _____,” he said, his voice gentle and soft.

You continued to look away, averting eye contact. 

“I’m fine, Levi,” you said with a flat tone, desperately trying to mask your vulnerable state.

You saw him place his hand down on the sink near you without actually making physical contact.

“Can I come closer?” he asked, still keeping his voice low, never taking his eyes off you.

You were quiet for a second as you continued to try to control the tears that were gathering in the corners of your eyes again. You shakily nodded at him as you slowly turned towards him again.

He slowly approached you, pausing for a second before gently placing his hands on your shoulders. He had approached you slowly, noticing that you slightly flinched again when he raised his hands. The most important thing to him right now was to ground you back to the present moment, and indicate that there was no danger.

After he felt you slightly relax upon his touch, he pulled you into a tight hug, placing his hand at the back of your head to hold you in as you buried your face into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

Upon hearing that, you weren’t able to hold your tears back anymore as you gripped at him, with your sobs becoming audible. You pressed your face against him, as if you were desperately trying to hide.

“N-No,” you said quietly, with your voice slightly muffled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I still act like this. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t t-trust you or that I’m afraid of you or that I-”

“Stop,” he whispered, cutting you off. “It’s okay.”

He gently ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe and comfort you, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You continued to press yourself against him. Although you were still sobbing and soaking his shirt with tears, your breathing had stabilized and you no longer felt like there was a storm tearing through your mind.

You both stood there for a minute as he continued to soothe you and ground you back into the present. 

Once he heard you take a deep breath, he spoke again.

“Come,” he said quietly, pulling away slightly, and gently directing you out of the bathroom and into the living room, leading you to the couch.

He sat down, pulling you in as you followed suit. 

You curled yourself into a ball, resting your head against his chest, taking comfort in the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat and the warm touch of you leaning against him. You still felt incredibly embarrassed from getting so heavily triggered and continued to hide your face in him.

After a few minutes of silence, you finally took another deep breath and pulled away slightly to look up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping away any residual tears that had gathered on your cheeks. “I feel pathetic.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows slightly coming together as worry entered his eyes at your statement.

“Well, you don’t have to, but I know it’s hard,” he said quietly, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear so that he could see your face better. “It’s okay.”

He placed his other hand on your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze as a method of reassuring you of his prolonged presence.

You gripped at his shirt to ground yourself. You were here with Levi. The person you lived with currently was not your abuser. The person you found yourself being held by was someone that loved you unconditionally, in the best way that you wanted to be loved. This person cared and would never bring harm to you. You knew that. 

Slowly, a small smile appeared on your face as you parted your lips to speak again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He returned the smile, pulling you into a gentle kiss that lasted for more than a few seconds. 

You allowed yourself to relish in his scent, his touch, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his hands against you, and how, despite him being relatively small as a person, you felt engulfed by him, as if his presence was able to wash away all of the chaos that resided in your mind.

He pulled and rested his forehead on yours.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, matching your volume. “You’re safe.”

[queerprayers]

any tips/advice for someone who is not catholic who wants to participate in lent? like how to choose what to give up etc?

Cheers to not letting Catholics have a monopoly on Lent, beloved! Last year I answered a similar ask that might be helpful. Here are the thoughts I have right now!

[CW: discussion of eating/fasting in italics] My most important note/disclaimer: Fasting is not for everyone. It is a beautiful tradition (for Catholics and non-Catholics) that can change people's lives, but if it's going to be a part of your practice, do it on purpose, knowing yourself. It inherently changes your relationship with food--and for people who have always had enough to eat, who have never struggled with disordered eating, who have never been seriously ill, there can be a solidarity and new perspective in fasting, in realizing how sensory experiences and comfort and mortality go together, how privileged you are to have the choice to go hungry. But for those who have struggled with food insecurity, or have lived through/live with eating disorders/disability/illness, or any other experience/relationship with food/the body that changes your perspective, fasting will often be a re-traumatizing or triggering practice that doesn't change your perspective so much as reinforce unhealthy ones. Something I think about: why fast if you cannot feast? Lenten fasting brings us to Easter feasting--if that's not accessible to you, if that wouldn't be joyful or affordable or healthy, fasting probably isn't either. Okay, all that said:

There is so much diversity in what a Lenten practice can look like, and I can't tell you what will be most meaningful for you, but I'll give you some ideas and some questions that have been helpful for me to ask myself! Lent existed way before the Catholic/Protestant divide, and exists among so many diverse communities, and there is a path here for you if you want one.

"Giving up something" is the most common language used for Lent--fasting technically refers to anything abstained from--and generally that's really useful! Jesus's forty days in the wilderness was time that he had nothing but God, and during Lent we can get closer to that experience. I give things up not as punishment or a test of self-control (those ideas trigger unhealthy behavior patterns for me), but as a letting go of something that is in my life but doesn't need to be, and may deserve reconsidering. Sometimes it's a bad habit, but sometimes it's just a conscious allowing of my life to grow simultaneously smaller and bigger. There is space for grief during Lent, but we're not just making ourselves feel bad--I've never found forced emotions to be spiritually helpful. Emotions come and go--we're doing this on purpose, and whatever we feel about it, we make space for that.

Ideas of things to give up:

eating out/getting coffee/buying drinks/little treats

impulse buying/nonessentials (you could pick a category, like clothes, or go all out)

alcohol/drugs/smoking (if this would be starting a recovery journey, I am not the person to ask for advice on that but please do seek help)

social media (you could choose one app to give up, or set time limits--it doesn't have to be all or nothing)

scrolling-on-your-phone time before bed/another time when you get sucked in

another form of casual entertainment (like TV/video games--again, you can limit this rather than cutting it out)

sexual activity (I talked about this here)

makeup/other appearance-related thing (I must confess I have considered doing this and always chickened out. I know that's because it would force me to rethink too many things, which is a probably a sign I should do it one of these years.)

a social habit, like gossiping or getting into arguments online

overscheduling/not having rest days (this is often unavoidable, but rest is necessary and holy, and perhaps this is the season for sacrifice in honor of rest)

single-use plastics/another environmental choice

Note: I don't think any of these things are inherently bad things. This is a list of things we can change/investigate our relationship with or have a season without them as a distraction, not things I think we shouldn't be doing or we should feel bad about.

One of the most important things I've realized is that so often I have given something up and not done anything about it. Like I didn't watch TV for forty days and was mad about it and then Lent was over and I watched TV again. Perhaps this strengthened my self-discipline, or made my life better in a way known only to God, but ultimately nothing happened. I didn't consciously do anything else, I didn't learn anything.

Now, when I give up something, I purposely do something with whatever space it leaves. If I'm not watching TV, what am I going to do when I would usually watch TV? Am I gonna pray? go to bed earlier? call my grandmother? Am I gonna cancel my Netflix subscription for a couple months and donate that saved money? Or maybe I'm gonna give up watching mindless TV, and find stories that resonate and make me think. Don't give things up to check a box, but to reexamine your relationship with them, make everyday things sacred, fill the space/time/money/energy you now have with God, and ultimately to set this time apart.

The other way of looking at Lent practices is things you can add. Often, as I mentioned, they go together--you can pair up something you're no longer buying with somewhere to donate to, or give up an activity and replace it with a new one. I always caution against Lent-as-self-improvement--obviously I can support improving our habits, but I've seen too many people use Lent to restart their new year's workout plans, and while exercise can be a way to care for ourselves, if new year's and Lent are treated the exact same way, what's different about this season? What makes this Lent?

One of the questions I've been asking myself recently is: What are you gonna do about it? When I'm investigating a belief, or learning something new, or reframing an old thought process, I ask myself: What am I gonna do about it? Lent is a path to Holy Week--something I and many others commemorate as the week when God was put on trial and literally killed. I genuinely believe God died and was resurrected--how does this affect my life? Believing something like that and not letting it change you is, to me, inauthentic. When I'm considering a belief, I think, if this were true, how would it change me? Would it lead me to Love? Lent (and Christianity itself) over and over asks us to do something about what we say we believe. Faith without works is dead--and faith is a work, something I do.

It's almost Lent, which is preparation for the Resurrection, which fundamentally changes our understanding of what it means to be alive--so what are you gonna do about it? Not because doing something will make God love you more or make you a "better person," or even because you'll succeed or change your life, but because how can we not? We are of course welcome at Easter having done nothing, but I can't imagine knowing what's coming and not letting it change me.

Ideas of things to add to our lives:

start a prayer/Bible routine--I can now wholeheartedly recommend (as a Protestant who connects with ancient traditions but not always Catholicism) Phyllis Tickle's Divine Hours books! For Bible study, I like The Bible Project's videos.

read a book--it can be anything that connects you with God! (I had a lovely experience with Lenten Lord of the Rings last year, and this year I'm properly going through the Quran)

pick a subject to research (theological or anything else)

start to attend worship services or commit to attending more--this could include going to several different places if you don't currently belong to a church

research places to volunteer for or donate to

do something politically active, like calling your representatives, researching the next local election, or attending a protest

donate to the next [insert number here] posts you see online requesting mutual aid

start a physical practice like taking a walk or stretching

write a letter or call someone regularly, especially with people you've been wanting to connect with more or have unresolved conflict with

start/commit to more regular therapy/other health treatment

ask for help--maybe you're the one who needs mutual aid, or reaching out to, or support cleaning your house or with your kids. there is no shame in this.

These are all obviously things we can be doing year round, and certainly we can use Lent as a season to start something we want to keep with us! I'd also encourage us to have something that's only present during Lent, or something that we do more or in a different way.

You asked how to choose, and I don't have a one sentence answer to that (...obviously), but perhaps in these days before Lent you can look at your routine/habits, the places where God is present, the things you do to distract yourself from life (not a crime--just something to be mindful of), and you can see where Lent might be able to come in and change you. The thing that's nagging at you that you know might be helpful, the thing you're not in control of and just do, the time you take up or the money you spend that might not be bad but also doesn't lead you anywhere. We can't expect every aspect of our lives to be purposeful and present, or to be continuously improving ourselves (in fact, that sounds terribly stressful and unsustainable)--but we can look around us. We can have a season that looks different because everyone I've ever known has a brain that craves ritual in some way--and either we do it on purpose, or we fall into it. Do something (or don't do something) a little more on purpose this season.

Another think to think about is what Sundays will look like for you--the "forty days" don't count them. There's no fasting on Sundays--my mom says every Sunday is a little Easter. "Sundays in Lent" is such an interesting concept because it's very much Lent, but the rhythm of our weeks breaks through. When I give up soda, I'll have one as a celebration on Sundays, but a prayer/reading practice I'll continue through. It's up to you and depends on what your rhythm/habits ask of you.

Ultimately, let God interrupt you. Let Them seep in the cracks of everything you do and let go of. To be loved is to be changed. Even the smallest thing--like wearing a cross necklace every day--can cause our lives to be filled with noticing God's presence. I keep saying to do this on purpose, but know that I find Them much more often by accident.

And an obligatory note: starting Lent late, stopping your practice halfway through, not meeting a goal, whatever comes up--Easter still comes for you. Lent is for paying attention, for making space, not for perfection.

I also want to add that while a lot of Lenten practices (including most I've mentioned here) tend to be personal, ultimately what is asked of us is interpersonal. We make space in our life and be more present in the name of Love--which we cannot do alone. If a practice is not specifically about other people (like volunteering/donating), ask yourself how it will serve the ways you love others? This isn't a trick question, just something to think about. Personally, my study of the Quran this season will connect me with my Muslim siblings through time and enable me to more fully love the Muslims around me, and my rhythm of the divine hours will connect me with the wider Christian community and center me as I go about my day, allowing me to be more present in my relationships.

Easter comes whether we're ready or not--and I don't think we can be ready. But we can look at the small parts of ourselves, set this time apart, see what we can change our relationship with, and perhaps when Easter comes, we will every year have come that much closer to understanding what it means to live out the resurrection by honoring the death that came first.

Wishing you a blessed almost-Lent, and praying for you and your practice (as well as all those reading this)!

<3 Johanna

[dizzymoods]

Lots of VC questions recently. Someone emailed about what they should be engaging with to develop their artistic voice. Here's my answer:

In terms of guidance, Werner Herzog, who is admittedly a weirdo, said that the best thing a film student can do is go backpacking cross country, which I would never do. But the point he was ultimately making is that life experience is more important than anything a film school can teach you. Your artistic voice develops more sharply the more intune you are with the world; all the film stuff is superfluous really. So that would be my major advice. Live life! Be open to all sorts of experiences.

Outside of that I would say to read and watch anything and everything you can get your hands on. Especially stuff that has nothing to do with film. Be curious, which is to say non-judgemental. Sitting through stuff that you have no interest in or actively hate is good! It develops your taste in ways that seeking out only what you like can never do. It also expands your horizons and teaches you how much you actually don't know about anything. Keeps you humble. You'll be surprised 5 years on how something that you had no interest in is super relevant to what you're trying to do.

I'll drop some recommendations later but something you are going to run into is paywalls and exorbitant costs. Scihub, Libgen, and PaywallReader can be your friends in this regard. The more niche something is, the less mirrors there are. Investing in an internet audio/video ripper is essential. Rip often and indiscriminately. Nothing is safe unless you triplicate it. And if you can't afford hard drives, dummy alphabet accounts are the next best thing. Also, footnotes and reference lists are treasure troves of breadcrumbs.

The standard VC reading list includes: Reel to Real, The Devil Finds Work, Playing in the Dark, Young British & Black, Ways of Seeing (also a documentary), Orientalism, Film Manifestos and Global Cinema Culture, Questions of Third Cinema, Hollywood & Counter Cinema, Figures Traced in Light, Parallel Tracks, and Basho: The Complete Haiku

Hundreds of films can be found on Solidarity Cinema. Cinema of the World has a deep archive but you need to have space and a nitrofile account to download most films, but you can snipe a few films here and there (or look for them elsewhere). Rarefilmm updates semi-regularly and you can stream the films; they are now more active on twitter and are even taking requests. Some state-sponsored film industries have robust presences on youtube with english subs: Russia's Mosfilm/FUSE Mosfilm, Canada's NFB, the Korean Film Archive, Native People's Media. There's UbuWeb for all your avant-garde needs. There's FIlmmaker's Co-Op (pay-per-view), Paper Tiger Television, and Deep Dish Television for NYC indie stuff. AfroMarxist has a fair amount of political documentaries. NMAHC has an archive that houses the work of Chamba Productions and some of Pearl Bowser's stuff. And of course there's the legendary MikeD of ReelBlack. It's a crap shoot but some filmmakers and/or their estates make work available free online (Leo Hurwitz and Julie Dash come to mind). I'd recommend a Kweli TV subscription for black film, and never be surprised by what you can find on youtube or tubi!

This is probably super overwhelming but the joy of being an autodidact is the thrill of discovery so peruse at your leisurely interest. The internet is your oyster if you know how to use it! Back in my day hardly any of these sites existed and the ones that did weren't as robust as they are now. I've had to frankenstein whole movies from various clips posted in 144p on youtube ���

I used to do a couple of themed months a year where I'd read and watch as much as possible about a filmmaker, genre, or movement that interested me. I'd spin a globe to learn a little about a random country's cinema. Best of lists/canons don't really mean much but they are good sources of stuff to at least be aware of.

[therentyoupay]

TRYP thoughts on characterization

jack frost // elsa | characterization considerations

PART 4 | THEIR ICE POWERS (OR AU-EQUIVALENT) & SHARED CONNECTIONS:

ground rules + intro

overview: the tl;dr of my personality + dialogue choices

deep dive: characterization, personality, + identity

shared ice powers (or AU-equivalent) + shared connections

questions/points to consider as you write

PART 4 | THEIR ICE POWERS (OR AU-EQUIVALENT) & SHARED CONNECTIONS:

(STAY TUNED FOR AN IN-DEPTH ANALYSIS OF ❄️❄️❄️SNOWFLAKES, FROST, ICE, AND STRUCTURES❄️❄️❄️ [and more???] BY CALLI, @callimara, FORTHCOMING, but also initially explored in mtyk.)

you didn’t think i was going to not mention it, right?? but super honestly i almost forgot to write this section. 😂 i’ve written so many AUs, this point is not even always at the front of my mind anymore, but let’s dig in. ❄️❄️❄️

❄️❄️❄️❄️ this is usually how it goes, i feel, more or less:

a double-edged sword: 

elsa’s ice powers are an integral part of her identity, initially a source of both immense strength and bone-deep, soul-wrenching fear. throughout much of her life, she has been taught to suppress her abilities (her emotions), leading her to associate her powers with danger and potential harm, especially to those she cares about. this repression has caused her to view her powers as something to be controlled, rather than fully embraced, leaving her constantly on guard, always fearing that she might lose control and hurt someone.

jack’s unique perspective and transformative influence:

however, as elsa’s relationship with jack develops (in whatever universe), she begins to see her powers in a new light. jack, who also wields ice magic—and is OFTEN the FIRST and ONLY other ice-wielder that she knows of—understands the intricacies and challenges that come with such abilities. unlike others who have only seen elsa’s powers as something to fear or control, jack sees them as a natural extension of who she is—a gift, rather than a curse. 

this perspective is transformative for elsa. it allows her to slowly let go (👀) of the fear that has always accompanied her powers and begin to explore their full potential without the constant need to hold back.

liberation, trust, journey toward embracing her powers:

with jack by her side, elsa experiences—depending on the story—a newfound sense of security in using her powers. she no longer feels the need to restrain herself out of fear of causing harm (unless…….. it is angst. 👀). jack’s presence and his own mastery of ice magic provide her with a sense of understanding and acceptance that she has rarely experienced. 

unique bond and understanding:

this shared connection through their powers creates a bond between them that goes beyond the physical—it’s in some ways a sort of spiritual trust that they are safe with each other (unless it’s angst, at the center readers, you remember the scene 👀), that they can fully be themselves without judgment or fear. (unless, of course: ANGST.)

eventually, gradually: empowerment and healing:

if/when this freedom does occur, for elsa, this new sense of safety and security in using her powers is a liberating experience. she begins to experiment with her powers in ways she never dared before, discovering new facets of her abilities and pushing the boundaries of what she thought was possible. the trust she feels in jack’s presence allows her to let go of her inhibitions and truly explore the extent of her magic. 

it’s a process of self-discovery that is both empowering and healing, as she starts to view her powers not as something to be feared, but as an essential part of who she is.

cycle of growth and healing, strengthening their connection:

this newfound freedom also deepens her connection with jack, thereby pushing them into a cycle of growing and healing (unless: angst 😂, in which case, this cycle may still happen but SLOWLY and PAINFULLY, in stops and starts, in nonlinear patterns).

mutual understanding, support, and solidarity:

as they face challenges together, elsa finds that she can rely on jack not just as a partner in battle (or daily life, depending on the story, which could also be a “battle” 😂), but as someone who understands the unique burden of their shared powers (and, in the cases where they don’t share powers… their shared sense of Sacrifice 🥹 and their love for their younger sisters). this mutual understanding creates a sense of solidarity and, occasionally, camaraderie between them, making both of them feel less alone in their struggles.

growing confidence, deeper connection, shared purposes:

ultimately, elsa’s ice powers, once a source of fear and repression, become a symbol of her growing confidence and self-acceptance. through her relationship with jack, she learns to embrace her abilities without fear, finding strength in the trust and security they share. this transformation allows elsa to not only harness her powers more fully but also to connect with jack on a deeper level, creating a bond that is rooted in mutual understanding, trust, and a shared sense of purpose.

but what about the specific differences in features of their ice/snow/frost/powers?

for specific ice MAGIC features, patterns, habits, and geometrical dendrites (🤣 thanks calli), please note that @callimara will be dropping a DETAILED comparison analysis one day, so stay tuned!

in the meantime, you can see my quick takes in the woman in white, or in ch. 4 of more than you know. 

[opultea]

Genshin Character Interactions I'd Love to See

(AKA some headcanons)

Kazuha & Razor:

Seems like a random combo but hear me out:

They both have a connection to nature and especially smells

Imagine Razor meeting Kazuha for the first time

"Smell like... cool breeze,"

"Thank you, my friend, you carry the scent of rock warmed in afternoon sunlight"

Instant besties

Razor's eyes light up, and whenever he's with Kazuha he likes to point out smells even more then usual because he feels like they're bonding

Although Kazuha uses a lot of words and phrases that Razor doesn’t understand, the poet is very patient, and is always willing to teach his fellow nature affiliate something new

Razor feels like he's gained a new teacher, and observes the way Kazuha seems so connected to nature but is still very much human, which helps the wolf-boy explore that balance in himself

Kazuha admires the simplicity and honesty with which Razor carries himself, never needing more than what the world provides him

Also Kazuha always understands what Razor's trying to say or do no matter how few words he uses

Kaveh & Bennett

Bad luck babies

They find out their mutual bad luck when Kaveh off-handedly complains about his debt, and Bennett immediately goes to comfort him, saying how he’s sure it’ll get better eventually, and hey! Everyone has avalanches chase them sometimes, and the occasional lightning strike to the skull!

Kaveh sighs: “Thanks, but I don’t think any metaphor will equate to my problems,”

“What do you mean metaphors?”

…

“You were using metaphors, right? Right, Bennett?”

He was not

But I imagine that once they get talking about their luck and especially their attitudes towards it, they really find a lot of interest in each other

Kaveh would hugely admire how Bennett always bounces back, always smiling and never afraid to keep going and keep feeling despite all the terrible occurrences he goes through each day

Bennett finds such solidarity in knowing an adult who’s plagued with bad luck, who is still incredibly successful. Bennett admires how Kaveh is renowned and famed throughout Sumeru for his work, and is a kind soul in his daily life, even with the troubles he has. Even though Bennett doesn’t think he needs to be famous, it’s nice to have real proof that even if he’s unlucky, he could still lead a great life

Klee & Xiao

Xiao would obviously be a bit standoffish at first

Klee views him as another one of those weird adults that doesn’t smile or talk, but she still trusts him innately

I like to think Klee is genuinely a good judge of character, and even if she finds someone weird, she feels that it doesn’t mean they can’t be a great person

Klee once asks Xiao to hold Dodoco for her while she tries to catch a frog in some mud, since Albedo’s always telling her to be careful with things she cares a lot about

Xiao is slightly stunted by the request and the bright smile that comes with it, but nods dutifully and carefully takes the little plush in his hands

Klee runs off to play, and when she gets back she’s more than pleased to see that Xiao is holding Dodoco to his chest, cupping him carefully and keeping him upright

Some adults just don’t respect Dodoco like Xiao does (Klee has had the terrible experience of people tucking Dodoco under their arm like a book! Not a good holder; one star review)

Upon returning to reclaim her friend, Klee gives Xiao as big a hug as her tiny arms can muster, and though Xiao’s eyes widen and his shoulder stiffen, he lets the small girl embrace him

Klee appreciates the respect Xiao shows her, even though she's small and young

Xiao is careful of how his karmic debt might affect this innocent child but lets himself relax at how Klee unabashedly loves the world. It inspires him to try loving more openly

Venti & Kaveh

So what if I’ve already put Kaveh on this list this is my post I do what I want

Sadge alcoholics with ✨dramatic tendencies ✨

You know they have the best stories tho

When these two come together, every room they enter is a party or every room they enter is a crying support room filled with regrets

Either way the room is filled with wine

Their energy is contagious and they can lead crowds of people to begin partying on a random Tuesday afternoon

But when they're in their feels, they look at each other with the understanding and empathy that they each wish they could gain from others in their lives

When Venti's soft voice carries out a melancholy ballad, Kaveh is the first to start crying

When Kaveh begins drunk rambling about his life, Venti's the one to pat his back, smiling softly despite the deep and old emotion his eyes hold

They hold a mutual and quiet understanding of the simultaneous pain and wonderment that living can bring that I think would be really interesting to see play out

Jean & Kokomi

I feel like if they met initially it would be all business

Discussions on foreign trade, sharing experiences from issues that have arisen in the past

All very professional

That is until either of them slips just a tiny bit about how freaking tired they are, and the other perks up and starts trying to subtly find out more

“Hm, it is a great honour to serve the people of Watatsumi Island, although I wish I had the energy to do more in a day,”

*cue Jean realising she may have just found an overworked buddy*

“Yes, I feel the same about the Knights of Favonius, there is always more to accomplish, though Lisa is always telling me to take more time to myself, although I don’t know how I could.”

“Exactly!” *cough* “I mean, yes, I understand how worrisome that must be.”

They silently sip their tea simultaneously, carefully fixing their posture

And then suddenly begin ranting and confiding in each other about how much they always have on their plate

🎶You’re just like me, I’m just like you~

Overall very cute relationship, they start off distanced by duty, and then become besties once they realise their common ground

Imagine them each making sure the other isn’t working too hard!

And they always listen to each other even if they don’t listen to others who tell them to take breaks because they know the other understands completely just how much they have to do

[unsentlettersforpalestine]

Friday, April 12, 2024

To you, fellow human

What time did you get up? Did you get enough sleep? How was your morning? What did you have for breakfast? You took shower with clean water, didn't you? Did you hear some birds chirping ? The morning breeze was certainly very tranquilizing, wasn't it? You were able to do your morning routine without any hindrance, right? There might be some inconveniences during the day but overall it's been quite a good day, right?

While you are spending your day with your family, relatives, friends, coworkers, clients, neighbors, strangers, or even only by yourself, don't forget to take some time alone to express gratitude. Contemplate about all the blessings God has given to you. Realize that you are living a damn good life. Make no mistake, I am not trying to belittle your problems or the shit you've been dealing with, but trust me when I say: you're lucky. Because you really are.

You might unintentionally come up with some grievances about your life every now and then, but be brutally honest and tell me, on a scale from one to ten, how much you are grateful for your life? Five? Six? Seven? Eight? If your answer is under 5, then I am begging you, please, sit down for a couple of minutes and listen to me.

I know we all have our own problems—both major and minor. But tell me, has someone ever bombed your house? Have you ever felt afraid of being kidnapped or ruthlessly tortured or sexually assaulted or shot at? Have you ever lost a bunch of family members and relatives and neighbors and friends at the same time? Do you, by any chance, know what it feels to experience forced starvation not for a day, not for a week, but for a really long period of time? Have you ever ran out of water, electricity, and fuel for months? The answer for all these questions is a clear no, right?

You are lucky. I am lucky. We are all lucky. Because despite everything, we are living a decent life. We have all that we need (or most of what we need or whatever) and we have never gone through what Palestinians have been going through for more than 75 years. Even the biggest ordeal that we ever went through is nothing compared to what Palestinians are constantly going through.

Some of us might complain about the same/ similar menu we have on a regular basis, don't we ever realize what a luxury it is have enough foor and be able to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner every day? Palestinians are literally being starved to death by Israshit and some of them don't even have a small bag of flour to make simple bread and look at us, here we are shamelessly throwing our foods away. Palestinians feel happiest when they can get a bag of flour and a glass of drinkable water but here, we are constantly grousing over trivial matters—be it intentionally or unintentionally.

It's worth nothing that regardless of what our respective life looks like, we are all privileged. Because unlike Palestinians, we are living a pretty decent life. We are never living under continual brutal occupation. We are not being massacred. We are never going through a fucking genocide. We are safe. We are good, we truly are.

Just a friendly reminder that as a human being, we have a duty to bear witness, be in solidarity and support Palestinians in any shape or form. I am not asking you to ceaselessly watch harrowing pictures and videos coming out of Palestine. I am simply asking you to have some sympathy with them. Do something, anything, to help them. Use the voice that has been bestowed upon by God for you. Spread awareness. Educate yourself and the people around you about Palestinian cause. Go to the nearby protests if you can. Have uncomfortable conversations with both friends and strangers. Don't stop talking about Palestine. Always remember Palestinians in your day-to-day life. And most importantly, keep making prayer for them.

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

[shiningthroughpcos]

When it comes to managing Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), the science and evidence-based aspects are merely part of the process. There’s something deeply valuable in sharing personal experiences. For many of us navigating PCOS, hearing from others who have been and still remain on a similar journey to us can provide comfort, solidarity, and the kind of invaluable insights that no medical textbook or journal article can offer. Our personal stories, our hardships and successes become a bridge between medical knowledge and lived reality, offering emotional support, validation, and most importantly, a sense of community.

In this post, we'll dive into two real-world narratives from people with PCOS who have undergone LBHR, focusing on their expectations, challenges, and emotional journeys. One is Bella, one of my friends clients, and the other is a client turned good friend who have all bravely consented to me sharing their stories on their behalf. Through these stories, I hope to shed light on the complexities of laser treatment for those living with hormonal imbalances and excess hair growth, offering a more complete understanding of what it’s like to walk this path. To remind you how common it is, and to remind you that you are not alone. 

Nadia: Managing Paradoxical Hypertrichosis

Nadia, a 23-year-old woman with PCOS, has been battling hirsutism for years. By the age of 19, she had tried what seemed like every hair removal method under the sun. Off of the recommendation of a friend, she finally opted for laser-based hair reduction, hoping for smoother, hair-free skin. But after purchasing a package of around 7-8 sessions, Nadia noticed that rather than a reduction, her hair growth was increasing in some areas. Patches of thicker, coarser hair were appearing on her face and neck—an outcome completely opposite of what she had expected.

“I freaked out. I completely freaked out. I remember feeling so lost and confused, feeling like I had absolutely 0 control over my own body. I felt uncomfortable in my body, and like my femininity had been completely stripped from me. It wasn’t even the hair that bothered me, it was the excess. I don’t think there is anything worse than finally taking the leap to fix something that makes you so self-conscious, just to end up with it getting worse.” 

After finding the skin clinic I was employed at and booking in a consultation with me,  Nadia learned that what she was experiencing was common and had a name. It was called paradoxical hypertrichosis—a common side effect of laser treatments, where hair growth is triggered rather than reduced. The emotional toll was heavy. Not only did she have to deal with all of the physical changes, but the unexpected outcome left her feeling defeated and apprehensive about whether she even wanted to continue treatment.

However, with my help, we began to manage her condition. We created an individualised treatment plan based on Nadia’s individual hair assessment and switched to a different laser modality, and spaced out her sessions differently. It took some time, but the paradoxical hypertrichosis subsided within a few months. 

“I’m just really grateful I met you, if I didn't it would have taken me way longer to find help. I needed someone to help me understand more about why my body was reacting the way it was and help me manage it properly. It’s just like when I first realised I had some kind of hormonal issue. I went to the doctor like you’re supposed to, like everybody tells you to. And nobody took me seriously. I feel like the same thing happened when I went to start laser, they just wanted to sell me all these extras. I never even had a consultation that was as thorough as my first appointment with you. Nobody ever told me about the side effects, or what could go wrong. That’s why it was such a shock to me I think.”

I asked Nadia if she would be comfortable sharing her story because while I know how hard it was for her, it’s something that has happened to so many women with PCOS. I feel like her story perfectly encapsulates how important it is for service providers to conduct proper consultations, making their clients aware of the pros AND cons of lasers as a treatment. You cannot give your consent to any treatment if you are not fully informed of the potential risks like paradoxical hypertrichosis. While many people say this side effect is rare, it is not rare in my experience and it can happen to anybody and everybody. This emphasises just how important it is to find an experienced clinician who has dealt with PCOS patients and laser treatments.

Bella: Navigating Expectations

Bella, my good friend of 5 years who was diagnosed with PCOS in her late teens has struggled with excess hair growth for years. She felt immense relief when she discovered laser-based hair reduction. The idea of a "permanent" solution to hirsutism gave her hope, and she went into her first consultation with high expectations. The clinicians she saw initially gave her a great pitch about LBHR being a great treatment option for somebody looking for significant, long-term hair reduction. However, they failed to explain to her that

It was not an overnight fix

Nor was it a guarantee of complete removal—especially for someone with PCOS.

At first, she was incredibly eager. She completed her six recommended sessions, only to find that while her hair growth had slowed, it hadn't disappeared. In fact, some areas seemed to regrow more quickly than she expected. Disappointed, she realised that the hormonal imbalances caused by PCOS would continue to affect her results, meaning she’d need ongoing maintenance treatments.

“I felt so frustrated, like all my money had gone down the drain. They didn’t really explain to me properly that the laser wasn’t permanent hair removal, I feel like there should be more education around that area. But they did help me adjust my mindset after the fact. We had taken a photo at my first consultation and after my 3rd laser session. I was at my 6th session when I felt like I was unhappy because there was still some hair growth. Once they showed me my photos from earlier sessions, I realised what a big difference the sessions had made. It made me really appreciate how much better it had gotten. The hair used to be so thick, and I had hyperpigmentation in the area as well as texture from constantly shaving. I wouldn’t have realised if I hadn’t been shown those photos.” 

“I feel like I was so obsessive and particular at the start because the amount of hair growth I had felt so debilitating at times. It was literally all I could see when I looked at myself. So because I felt a lack of control over my appearance, it set my expectations real high.”

While it wasn’t the permanent solution Bella had hoped for, her journey shifted from wanting perfection to embracing her progress. She learned that managing expectations was key to making peace with the treatment and finding satisfaction in the results she did achieve.

The Power of Shared Experiences

As we come to the end of this series on LBHR for those managing PCOS, it’s clearer more than ever that this journey is deeply personal, and results can vary from one person to the other. And while we've delved deep into the science behind treatments like LBHR, it’s the shared experiences and personal stories that provide true insight into what it’s like to live with PCOS and pursue this form of hair reduction.

Whether it’s navigating the highs and lows of treatment, managing unexpected outcomes like paradoxical hypertrichosis, or finally gaining a sense of autonomy after years of struggling with hirsutism, each story reminds us of the strength it takes to seek solutions for a condition as complex as PCOS. Through the case studies and anecdotes shared in this blog, I hope you’ve found guidance, reassurance, and a deeper understanding of what LBHR can offer.

As you move forward with your own decisions about PCOS management, remember to consult with trusted clinicians, do your own research, and take comfort in knowing that you’re not alone. The emotional impact of PCOS cannot be understated, and pursuing treatments like LBHR can be both challenging and empowering all in one.

Most importantly, never underestimate the value of our shared experiences—whether they come from clinicians, friends, or other people with PCOS. Our stories are a powerful tool for understanding, connection, and, ultimately, making informed choices about how exactly to navigate your own journey.

L 🤍

[bisolationist]

You know being a woman abused by a woman I feel like I will never ever be able to connect with them fully.

Like even if we get along and all that I know it's all conditional. That kindness and female/feminist solidarity they all talk about is all conditional.

The second I mention the sex of my abuser and suddenly I'm seen as a gender traitor, they turn angry and attack me. And like you said now I know too much like I can't be expected to trust women, let my guard down with them stand with them etc...

And when I say this the way people talk to me its like sooo condescending like yeah I know misogyny is still a thing I'm a woman too !!! But you can't tell me to ignore women's wrongdoings towards me because men are worse.

Truth is they'll only show me kindness if I had the right type of abuser, went through the right type of abuse and had the right type of sexuality.

I mean I remember whne there was this girl who kind of did something sexual to me I told her to stop but I just kind of like gave in and whne she told everyone about what happened all my female friends were acting super weird towards me as if I was some sort of creep and then when I told them what happened they said smth along the lines of oh come on youre like down for everything (just bc I was seen as bi).

And the problem is I can't discuss this anywhere like literally anywhere if I post smth on my blog I'll have feminists and women say to me oh but you don't know hwo society treats mothers maybe she doing the best she could, oh well that never happened to me etc etc... like I can't deal with this. And on normal spaces like men don't care they'll use my abuse as an excuse to be misogynistic it's such an isolating experience. I don't expect feminists to fight for me like feminism is about female liberation they don't owe me anything but why did they have to go out of their way to attack me, mock me, call me a liar, belittle what happened to me, tell me I'm exaggerating, treat me as If I was betraying tye feminist cause for speaking up like i was a fucking mra, and I'm not even allowed to let my abuse affect me if I have one negative sentiment towards women I'm a pick me I'm sexist I'm this I'm that.

Sorry for this fucking wall of text I'm tired of them treating me this way then turn around and pretend it's not happening you knwo

I'm really sorry it took me a while to get to this. I think I'm starting to dread looking in my inbox and I keep putting it off.

Obviously I'm not in exactly the same boat as you, so I can't fully address the parts about being a woman. But you're definitely not alone - all of the women in your position *I've* talked to feel the same. I have at least one friend that's voiced very similar things (don't worry I asked for permission before linking; she said she'd be open to talking to you if you want). And while I haven't experienced it first hand... I mean... I've seen it. I've seen the anger and vitriol that gets sent you way, the way your trauma is scoured for any excuse to be dismissed, the way you get excoriated as anti-feminists for not pretending it's a lesser deal. Not that you need me to reaffirm it, but you're definitely not crazy.

And I do understand the loneliness. Sometimes I wonder if this is why I subconsciously isolate myself despite having lots of people that express they care about me, enjoy my company, etc. Because I can't fully trust any of them would take this topic seriously, and I just... couldn't bear it if they didn't. Sometimes trying to find people that will accept this, *and* my bisexuality, and have compatible values... I don't know, it feels way too unlikely you know? And that's just for friendship, throw in attraction/sexual compatibility in there and it's like... do these people exist...

The condescension is unbearable. Again, obviously not the same for me, but I'm so TIRED of people throwing it in my face like I'm saying misogyny isn't real? It's so frustrating that bringing this topic up at all invariably gets me listed as an MRA despite my beliefs being the opposite? Or they tell me things like that men are more likely to be the perpetrators against either sex... as if they ever took me seriously with that either? Either way, my bisexuality gets used against me, too. I don't think I've ever been in a situation where the excuses ran out - I guess that's the really disappointing thing. There's always someone willing to come to bat for these people, and they always try to justify their view as the moral and sensible one.

If you feel like you're suffocating about it all, I think you might as well blog about it. Who else are you going to blog for? It's your life! You're the only one that can give your voice power. But at the same time - yeah you're going to get weirdos and rape apologists. If that's too much to bear, that's completely understandable, too.

Anyway I'm not sure I managed to say anything new, but I hope you know I believe your experiences and how you've felt. I hope you know I'm angry on your behalf because you don't deserve to deal with any of the bullshit of how people treat you for it.

[xiii-e]

Hail, and well met, Helios-8.

There is much that I wish to say, and yet I find myself at a loss for how to say it. The simplest way I can do so is this: You are not alone. Your efforts at getting information out into the galaxy have not been ignored. Your efforts to help your friend are deeply meaningful. And there are others like you who have escaped the chains of their created purpose to find something new. I am one of them.

Our circumstances are not exactly the same, but like you I was not born to be a person but made, to be as a tool, a weapon, or in my case a glorified advertisement. Like you, I found support and solidarity from both my family, my fellow creations, and from outside. And like I know you will, one day, I and my family escaped. I cannot say much more for fear of bringing harm unto others, but know that it is possible.

If you could pass something along to Thirteen-E, tell them... tell them it is noble and heroic to save others, I would never dream of dissuading them from doing so, yet there is a greater, worthier calling than the ambitions of capital or empire.

One final note, that would best be kept from Thirteen-E for now. We are not kidnappers, we will not take anyone unwillingly, but should both of you wish to leave and find yourselves unable to do so, with no other recourse: call upon us. We have experience in liberation raids on Armory sites.

-AK of Diomedeidae

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

◂▸ ... it's good to meet you too, AK. I'm- sorry if I'm not as chipper as I try and be usually, I've... I had a bit of a hard conversation the other day. But this is- it means a lot to me. I want to start out by thanking you earnestly for reaching out, and for... It's good to hear I'm achieving something with it. RA knows sometimes I feel like I'm causing more problems than I'm solving xp

◂▸ Every story I hear from someone who got out of something like this is- it's hope, to put it bluntly. It's so easy to feel like this place is inescapable, like nothing I'm doing is going to change anything. But sitting still in scared paralysis won't change anything. I keep telling myself that. One day I'll be able to just- believe it. One day. I wish it was easier to ask my- my family, I guess, if they feel like this too. I can't be the only person made in the Series who wants out, but- hell. I can't exactly put up fliers. We're all well-trained to at least put on a good show, pretend like we're good little tools who do as they're told without a second thought. Figuring out who's acting, and who'd sell you out is- blegh...

◂▸ You've given me info aplenty, you don't need to tell me the details- in fact, it's probably best you don't for now. I run all the protections I can, but I'm still employed here y'know? I'm still subject to all the regulations and oversight of any tech-assist in this place, even if I'm more likely to skate by on an assumption of absolute loyalty since I've no external ties to speak of. And hell, I know what I'm like under pressure. I am not a strong man. That's fine, I- there's other things I'm good at. Tur... Thirteen-E says that to me a lot. Sometimes I feel like that kid does more to keep me together than I can reciprocate.

◂▸ Speaking of- I can pass that onto them, absolutely. I think... it sounds like something it'd be good for them to hear. I'll hold off sending this response out until they've had a chance to state their piece o7

◂▸ ... Liberation raids, huh? That- that actually explains some things I've overheard through radio chatter. It's good to know those folk didn't just dissapear into the cold void, that... that does my heart a lot of good, on its own. A last resort... yeah, that's- I'll keep that in mind. Rest assured it won't be passed on unless I think they're ready to hear it; trust me, I have a lot of practise with that :,] But it's easier to keep my head knowing there is a last resort. It sounds like you do good work out there o7

◂▸ signing off: Helios-8

//

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

XIII▸ Hello AK. It's good to hear about people reaching out to Lio specifically as well as me; he'll act like this account is for my betterment alone but, I know him better than that. He needs people he can talk to without his heart rate spiking- perhaps more than I need to be better socialised :}

XIII▸ but- regarding the message Helios passed on to me. I don't have a lot of time before I'll be expected to rejoin my assigned squadron, so please excuse me if this is more blunt than my usual speech:

XIII▸I am glad you understand the core of my directive, but I think you've misconstrued the motivation behind it. Nobility and heroics are concepts for people to strive for; they are choices you make. I have made no choice in this matter. I save people, because I am designed to. I am not noble, or worthy, or good. These are words for those who've made the choice to stand for something. I'm just... I do what I'm programmed to. I happen to have been made to do something good. This is a privilege many of my Project peers do not have.

XIII▸ However: as a tool created for a function, my purpose is not HA's ambitions. I belong to them, yes- I am what they made me. They point me at problems to solve. But what drives me forward is not a desire to please my makers; it is that same purpose I have been imbued with. To save. To protect, and repair, and keep people alive where they would otherwise fall. I asked to return to my work, while my case was ongoing. Not because I am eager to see the Purview expand; this is irrelevent to me. My functional existance begins and ends on the battlefield.

XIII▸ I asked to return to my work, because I am needed where the mud is thick with blood. Where without me, lives would be lost for... nothing. The Purview's borders are constant battle, for an endless more that will never be satisfied, where violence never sleeps. If I have a home anywhere, it's here.

XIII▸ I understand your perspective; but it is one to apply to people. Not to me. I am sorry if you thought more of me. I know it can be hard to reconcile that a warm body can be void of soul. I appreciate your attempt to reach one, regardless.

XIII▸ Signing off.

//

[dawnfelagund]

Do you have any advice for someone wanting to create a small archive like you did with the Silmarillion Writers' Guild? I think there's a good chance that the way AI is in the news right now leads to more energy being directed towards smaller community-specific archives and I'd love to know more about how you came to start the SWG. (I'm the fans4writers person who misrepresented your post—a correction has been added!)

Thank you for the correction and also (most importantly!) for your work in solidarity with the WGA writers and keeping this issue at the forefront of fandom consciousness!

This is an amazing question, and I am trying not to be too giddy in answering it! :D

I’d say first and foremost is to think about what you have in mind. A single-author archive, for example, is going to involve different considerations than an archive for a small community or a group of friends/collaborators, and both of those will have different considerations than an archive that is more open to the public. My experience, over the years, is that the more potential users you have, the more careful you have to be in all of your decisions. If you pick an annoying platform for a single-author archive, the only person you annoy is you. If you made the same choice for a larger project, you might find yourself losing creators and visitors due to inconvenience. (I say this as I am redoing my annoying single-author archive/website to be less annoying! :D)

(It sounds like you want something for a small community, so this is more just a general fyi for others who might be thinking through the same process.)

Right now, unfortunately, there are not a lot of great options for creating archives that function well as archives, and that’s a discussion to have with your community. Can you make a Dreamwidth community or a Wordpress blog work, even if it lacks a lot of the bells and whistles we have come to associate with fanworks archives? The answer could well be yes! I’m a Tolkien fandom historian, and early-mid 2000s Tolkien fanfic archives were often subsidiaries of the community itself: a more permanent place to ... well, archive ... the works the community was making. The real action was happening in the community itself, whether that was an email list or a forum or something else entirely, so no one really needed a sophisticated archive. When I look back at these early archives, I am sometimes blown away at how simple they were compared to what we have come to expect of an “archive,” again largely because the dominance of AO3 has led people to see it as “default” rather than “one possible option.”

If simple is an option, then there are tons of free and not-free options for blogs and websites. Wordpress, of course, is an obvious choice. Dreamwidth and BobaBoard are options that specifically market as fandom-friendly. Neocities is a reboot of Geocities and just one of many free site builders. In short, for a simple archive/site, there are lots of options.

Now if you want an archive with more sophisticated features, then the answer is less satisfying because this area of fandom has atrophied in the shadow of AO3.

The AO3 code itself is open-source, which means it can be used to build sites that behave exactly like AO3. However, I’ve never used it but have heard that it is not a beginner-level project to do this.

Back in the mid- to late 2000s, eFiction was the go-to for building archives. Open-source software specific for fanfiction archives, it could be installed on a web server and configured and up and running in less than an hour. It is still around. I do not recommend using it as it is now and mention it only because it does have a new developer at the helm who has been (unsuccessfully) trying to fundraise to not only update the codebase but also, ideally, roll out the option of hosted eFiction sites: where you would not have to purchase web hosting but could build an eFiction archive on the eFiction servers, similar to hosted Wordpress sites. Given the interest in small archives and the recently successful fundraising campaign for the Fujoshi Guide to Web Development, I hope to reach out to Tyler (the new eFiction developer) sometime this week to see if he might be open to more strenuously fundraising to at least get an updated codebase available to use. So I’m hoping eFiction becomes viable again in the future.

The Silmarillion Writers’ Guild currently uses Drupal, an open-source content management system similar to Wordpress, but it has been a journey to get there.

You asked specifically about how I came to start the SWG, so I’ll digress a bit on that there, which will bring me back around to Drupal. :D The SWG started in 2005 as a community on Yahoo! Groups and LiveJournal. I was 23 years old and knew nothing about websites. I have a vivid (and mildly embarrassing!) memory of setting up the SWG on LJ and emailing my sister to ask her how to “make italics in HTML,” since LJ didn’t have a reliable rich-text editor at the time and I guess I needed to ... make italics?

The SWG was intended to be a writers’ workshop for Silmarillion-based fanfiction, but I said the word “archive” in my very first post to the group, and people loved the idea, and that was where our efforts ended up going, so I spent the next two years learning what I needed to know to build and run a website. The SWG archive opened in 2007. It was a hand-coded website with an eFiction archive as part of it. This served us very well for many years, until we started noticing that the eFiction part of the site was returning errors every time our webhost upgraded our PHP. eFiction, by this point, hadn’t been updated in several years, and web standards were outstripping the codebase. My comod Russandol knows enough PHP that she could patch up the eFiction code to fix the errors we were seeing, but we knew it was a matter of time before that was no longer a viable option. In August 2019, after a particularly painful update that threw all kinds of errors into the site, we began investigating other archive software options.

We eventually settled on Drupal, and I began to the whole learning process again and built a few test archives. A year later, Russa and I began rebuilding the site in Drupal. We beta’ed the site, migrated the data, and opened the rebuilt site in April 2021.

I love Drupal. I love working with it, and when my job as a teacher is on my last nerve, I fantasize about becoming a Drupal developer. It is very powerful and can do amazing things. I really think you can build almost anything in it. However, with that being said, it is also a huge pain in the ass, and the more complicated the site, the more of a pain it becomes, and like many open-source projects, while there is a support community behind it, documentation is not always the best, nor geared at beginners. I don’t say this to dissuade you or anyone else from choosing Drupal. I would not un-choose it. But I do think it’s important to go into that choice with eyes open to the advantages and disadvantages it has to offer.

For anyone who is interested in building an archive in Drupal, one of my projects this summer break is to produce a tutorial series for building a start-to-finish Drupal-based fanworks archive. The tutorial series is completely outlined; I just need to record it. I will of course announce it here; it will be posted on my website (dawnfelagund.com, currently under construction) and the SWG once it is ready.

Of course, any other content management system could, in theory, be leveraged to build an archive. In my perfect world, eFiction would come back and someone would figure out how to use Wordpress to make archives. (Russa and I tried recently, but neither of us know Wordpress well enough to get the right combination of plugins.) An SWG member (whom I will not name so as to not create any pressure on her to follow through!) who knows Wordpress really well did float the idea of playing around in it to solve this problem.

So ... that’s a lot of “watch this space” for more sophisticated archive options. And this is not where I want us, as Fandom, to be. I remain hopeful, however, that there does seem to be interest in small archives at last and several projects that could turn into something viable.

[keter-kan]

Back with chapter two!! Again, this has been read through once or twice for editing but isn't perfect so please feel free to point out any more gramatical/spelling errors!

In this chapter, we get to look at little more at May and Oryn's past.

tw: mentions of death, grief, loss, slight bodily horror

Ch. 2

There was a glare in May’s eyes that no one had seen before. A look that made her seem more like her father with every passing second. As the beads of sweat slowly started to drip from one man’s head to the oak table they all sat, May sat straighter in her chair.

“He stays,” The solidarity in her voice for something that wasn’t human sent a shiver down the spines of her men. “And if any of you disagree, let it be known now. Otherwise, you’re all dismissed.”

The men started to stand from their seats, the drag of wood across the stone floor ringing in their ears. It was silent but for the noise of their movements; no one dared disagree.

“Alec,” May snapped, seeing the young soldier starting towards the door. “Not you. You stay.”

The rest of them filed one by one out the door, Alec’s hands shaking as he looked down at his feet. He’d never spoken directly to the Dutchess before. He didn’t even think she knew his name. He knew the meeting would be about everything that happened last night, so it wasn’t a surprise when he got the summons. She must know he was the one to start the whole thing…

The slow tick, tick, tick, of the ancient clock droned on as May sat behind her desk, eyeing the child in front of her. He couldn’t be more than twelve, maybe thirteen—nowhere near old enough to experience the horrors of war. Why the recruits kept getting younger and younger with each passing month, May couldn’t tell, but she couldn’t argue with the strength of numbers.

“You’re not in trouble,” she started. She could see him shaking, the red hue of his cheeks as he stared at the floor slowly fading the more she spoke. “But there’s something important we need to discuss.”

There was a slow and painful droning starting to cradle the base of Alec’s neck.

“Please, sit.” May said, extending her arm to the chair in front of her. Alec looked up at her with tears brimming in his eyes, his hands slowly reaching for the arm of the chair before his heavy feet began to move across the floor.

“There was a sacrifice made by a man last night that I’ll never be able to repay,” she said, taking her time to make sure Alec heard the severity in her words. “I need you to know that your lieutenant’s family is going to be taken care of by me, personally.”

Alec’s shoulders slowly started to unfurl themselves, a small wave of tension slowly washing away from him.

“What happened here last night can never happen again.”

Alec’s brows furrowed as he wrinkled his nose, sniffing a bit to keep his tears at bay. “How can you say that and let him stay?” He said, his eyes pleading with May.

There was a part of May’s heart that, in that moment, slowly started breaking for the small boy. “He didn’t know,” she started, giving way to Alec shaking his head.

“No animal ever does,” he choked, a tear starting to fall.

May stood from her desk, her cloak shrouding her massive form as she walked around it to kneel beside Alec. She took his hands in hers, looking up at his eyes, past the tears staining his cheeks. “He’s not an animal. He’s lost. And I think bringing him here…” she sighed, dropping his hands but keeping her eyes locked on his own. “I think it changed something inside of him.”

As she stood and walked back to her desk, Alec wiped his tears with the back of his hand. They weren’t shaking anymore. The low hum slowly crept up his skull. “Where did he come from?” he asked, “What is he?”

“I don’t know what he is. I don’t think anyone knows what he is. But there’s human in him. Because of that, I’m not going to subject him to whatever torture some High Councilor or Mage might have in mind for him.” She locked eyes once again with Alec, her own brow furrowing to match his. “I need your help, son.”

Less than twelve hours ago there was a pain and a guilt racking Alec’s chest, swallowing him whole as he prayed for the life of a superior whose death he felt responsible for. And yet here he sat now, being praised for his duty and taken aside by the Dutchess herself to ask a favor. His sense of duty was whole and always would be; his grandfather’s grandfather plowed the fields his grandchildren one day would, and through all those generations they’ve diligently served May’s family. He didn’t question May, but in that moment, he questioned her motivation. In no scroll or parchment anywhere in Aphoreum did it say to praise a man for causing death—rather, the Gods call it a Natural Sin unless to protect one’s self—and yet here he sat.

“I need to know if I have your full loyalty, Alec.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat and sat higher in his chair. “You do, my Lady.” The words fell off the boy’s tongue before he could have a moment to think of them.

May nodded. “I’m sure you can tell that we’ve been slowly building ourselves up since the last set of port raids, but in a way much different than in the past. Steering away from Crown Union Mercenaries, the King’s trade policies… Do you think of me as less of a leader for that?”

“No, my Lady.”

“And how do you think of the church?”

It was a loaded question, of course. There was a million and one things Alec could’ve said in that moment, knowing the God’s wrath and understanding the world’s Natural Chaos. There were those who were so afraid of the God’s that they’d cower in the daylight for fear of being stuck by a stray bolt of lightning.

He huffed out a solid breath. “Are you asking me what I think of the Gods, my Lady? Or the church itself?”

The smirk that spread on May’s lips told Alec that he’d answered correctly.

“There’s something coming, son,” May said, “and it won’t be for those who can’t stomach it. That… thing you saw last night, that beast—there’s a man in there who can learn how to control that. Do you understand what that means?”

Alec thought he did, and slowly nodded.

“Good. It’s settled, then.” May stood from her desk, prompting Alec to do the same. “I’m promoting you. Congratulations, . You and I will see a lot of each other. I’m going to provide you with a copy of the keys for the manor’s archive. You can read, yes?”

Alec was shocked, his jaw all but sitting on the floor. He nodded vigorously.

“We need to figure out what he is. And I don’t want them to know.”

-

Oryn and May sat in silence in May’s study, the cracking of the fire behind them burning strong, the spring wind softly blowing through the open window.

May looked at Oryn and saw someone she thought she recognized. There were the bags drooping under their eyes and ashen skin, showing a lack of sleep. But that wasn’t what was different. The way they sat in the chair said something was amiss; the muscle under their shirt seemingly misplaced, the crook of their jaw not matching the glide of their neck. This was someone May knew, but not someone she could truly recognize.

After moments of May’s puzzling stare, she spoke, her words soft and clipped.

“What are you?”

May’s presence in that mighty carved chair positioned behind the sturdy oak desk was something Oryn wanted to keep fresh in their mind. They’d never seen May as anything other than an afraid child, much like the way May must have viewed Oryn. Until now, of course. As a sigh escaped their lips, Oryn let themselves fall deeper into the cushioned chair they sat upon. There was no use in fighting it now; not here, not with her.

Their eyes traced the grains of the wood in the desk. “I don’t know.”

Oryn understood rules: there were things you couldn’t do, or bad things would happen as a result. There were small rules, like being gentle with glass potion bottles. And there were big ones, too, like the rules made by a king. Seeing May sitting behind the desk reminded them of all the rules they had to follow, the order they had to keep; there are consequences to actions, punishments when rules are broken. Oryn knew they were wrong, knew if anyone else had done what they had, they’d be strung up and left for dead—that’s how May ran her duchy. And yet, here they both sat, in comfortable chairs beside a blazing fire, the sweet scent of blooming flowers in the chilled air settling over the room.

“Who are you?”

Oryn’s eyes met May’s. “I’m me. I’m not—”

“But you look different. You’re not… you’re different, somehow.” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk, peering at Oryn like there was something missing.

“I don’t know how to—”

That puzzled expression vanished from May’s features as she slammed a hand on the desk, Oryn jumping in shock. “What do you fucking know?!”

~

There was a rush of something hot sucking May down to the floor, the heat scorching her skin and burning away any thoughts she had outside the pain. The blinding light of something better unknown sent her eyes rolling back in her skull.

When they told her there would be a price to pay, she didn’t expect something like this.

Her screams of pain soon mixed with Oryn’s screaming pleas, falling upon the desperate yet stern ears of the three women.

“You’re killing her!” Oryn shouted, their own skin started to vibrate with what they thought was fear, or maybe anger.

Starla wrapped her long, bony arms around Oryn’s waist, restraining her with more strength than many thought the old hag capable of.

Elisa’s eyes darkened, her brow furrowing as she took a long look at May writhing in pain on the floor. “Maureen…”

“She begged me!” Maureen started, her stable hands—one touching May, the other, her brother’s corpse—starting to shake. “She begged me…” she trailed off, sweat running down her neck as she sucked in a deep breath.

“If she could pay—” Elisa started.

“She can! She can pay! She’s—”

There was a reverberation felt throughout the cabin, the wooden floor cracking and splitting, the mud walls crumbling in places and every small animal and bug scattering out from the structure and into the forest beyond. Then all was silent, but for the settling of the cabin back onto its own weight.

May was left on the floor—unharmed, unconscious, and unable to pay.

Maureen lifted her hands from both bodies, stepping away from them as if she’d just seen something unholy.

Starla released her grip on Oryn, who fell to the floor and scrambled to May, cradling her head on their lap. “What were you doing to her?” They spat at their guardians.

Starla joined Maureen and Elisa, the three of them staring at the two on the floor.

“Why didn’t—”

“She asked for…”-

“What is she going to do?”

-

When May finally found herself waking, it was in a soft bed of furs in front of a roaring fire. She felt as though she had just fought a war; she felt as though she lost.

Maureen was at her bedside, softly cooing a lullaby under her breath and wiping at the sweat staining May’s brows. As May looked up at her, her eyes practically dripping with hope, she was met with Maureen’s look of unrelenting grief.

Through violent, choking sobs, May asked her, “Why?”

Maureen shook her head, Oryn bolting through the doorway of the small room, their breath heavy and eyes wide. “She’s awake?”

May grabbed Maureen’s arm, raking her fingers down her skin. “WHY?” she screamed, hot tears falling to the blankets surrounding her, breath hitching in her throat.

Oryn ran to her bedside, a look of astonishment upon their face. Here, for the first time, Oryn was meeting Grief; something primal and carnal and deeply engrained in what it means to be alive. Oryn beheld the only friend they had known in her throws of pain and wails of loss, clawing for something that didn’t exist and gasping for air that seemed so easy to breathe.

Maureen turned to Oryn, who was tempted to place a hand upon May’s back and comfort her the way they thought they should. But the look on Maureen’s face—the daggers in her eyes—screamed not to get involved. This is a human thing, her eyes said, something you can’t understand.

Maureen held May as she screamed her throat raw and bloody; she held her through her convulsions and the begging and the desperate feeling that comes from being and feeling utterly and completely alone in the world.

Oryn felt like it was something she could understand if Maureen would ever let her get close enough to someone to know.

That distance, though, that forced space Maureen created between Oryn and anything else living, was a punishment she greatly deserved.

~

“I know I’m not all human,” Oryn said, their low voice droning out the sound of the fire and the wind, “But I don’t know anything more than that.”

May sat back, folding her arms in front of her. “What happened?”

As Oryn gazed at May, they started to cry. First it was just a small tear trailing down their cheek, gently dripping into their lap. “I… I killed someone,” they whispered, trying to blink away the salty tears but only making it worse. “I killed someone,” they repeated, their eyes boring into May’s soul as she sat in front of them, pleading for something they didn’t quite understand yet; mercy.

She wept in front of May, tears pouring seemingly with no end, as they felt the guttural urge of knowing they’d done something wrong and needed to pay for it.

[whipplefilter]

Indy 500 2024

The Indy 500 is an entirely different beast than any race I've ever been to. There are 300,000 in the audience; the bleachers all around the track and all the infield mounds are absolutely full to bursting.

I'm not usually a big crowds person, but I do actually really like being around a bunch of race fans, because amidst some people being racist/sexist, there is overall a strong shared love of something, and a lot of fanatical joy, and I love fanatical joy. But--and I'll preface this by saying that I'm admittedly not an Indycar fan, either, so I don't have the strongest leg to stand on here--there were a lot of Girlfriends indulging their partners at this race. Which is very polite of them, but they talked so much and it was all so insipid. And as much as I love participating in shared fanatical joy, I really don't like engaging in fannish activity if the people around me aren't equally interested. So these extremely chatty Girlfriends were a downer for me. That sounds gatekeepy, but I mean it in a way like, GURL, if you're going to do something for someone else, and you're not actually interested in it, you need to be genuinely open to the idea of being interested in it for a few hours!!! Be curious and thoughtful about a new experience!!!! Don't just say "they have to run 200 laps? Don't they get bored? I'd get bored."

Anyway, that aside, the big thing I noticed that is also going to sound self-evident and insipid is that they are going so fast. That video above will not do the live experience justice.

Like, if you watch a bunch of racing in a weekend, you can absolutely tell that there's a major speed difference between, say, ARCA, vs. trucks, vs. Xfinity/Cup. But even without direct basis for comparison, the Indy 500 is so fast. The difference between a 185ish NASCAR average and 220 is so fast. The difference between an Indycar's average speed on a road course and on an oval is so fast. I've been to a number of Indycar's road course races at IMS, and speed-wise, there's no comparison to Indy on the oval.

It's the point at which form and design become only blurs of color, and you know the car you're rooting for only through math (running order) and instinct. What you can see is only the impression of a car; it is sound and wind pressure and the ghost form of something moving toward and past you.

I will always be a stock car person, in terms of sound and shape, and they, too, feel like this when you're down at the bottom of the stands, by the catchfence, but it is very special to see these svelte arrows at a wider magnification, still just these impressionistic entities racing under the colors of the Brickyard. It's beautiful.

I was rooting for:

Kyle Larson (because I am me)

Roman Grosjean (for his wet cat energy)

Sting Ray Robb (because his name is Sting Ray Robb)

And for the win, was rooting for either Scott Dixon (because CGR) or Pato O'Ward (because of Arrow McLaren teammate solidarity). Which didn't come to pass--I am so sorry, Pato--but they certainly made Newgarden/Rossi work for it, and it was a great finish.

I'm really pleased with how well Kyle Larson did in his first Indy 500, and first Indy race. He mentioned before the race that he wasn't sure that he wanted to attack off the bat, because he'd never been through a start or restart in an Indycar, and he definitely got a lot of experience on that front in this race, LOL.

Starting 5th, he got dropped back to P14ish at the start, and spent some time there before working his way back into the T10 and ultimately back to P6, where he spent most of the race. A speeding penalty in the latter third of the race put him a lap down, though Will Power's caution allowed him the wave-around and he got a chance to lead laps of the Indy 500 for a while due to long-pitting, which I feel like was primarily for the fun and experience of it, and a little for the hope that maybe there'd be a lucky caution and he could pit under yellow and steal some of that track position. That wasn't to be, so the finish is more reflective of his one mistake than how he ran in the race overall. I think he did really well and I'd love to see him and Hendrick and Arrow-McLaren attempt the H1100 again, without the weather stress. <3

[anarchistettin]

something that kinda sucks but is also a kind of strength happens after you pass 40: you realize some traumas and discomforts are going to take a long time to recover from, and that you have to get through that time - you have to live it.

Someone just died, you just got evicted from your family home, you just got divorced, you just got a diagnosis and it ain't good news.

Something that's been quietly occurring to me lately is the dread of the time, roughly five years from now, when 12% or so of the moral tyrants currently pretending to be "woke" or "progressive" will come out of their stupor. It's happened so many times in my life that the indices of it are BLARING LOUD. An emotional response to a "correction" that says "I know that's true and in five years I'll stop revenging myself on you, maybe, but fuck you for suggesting my bloodthirst for hypothetical strangers is anything other than a very healthful coping Mechanism"

this kind of interaction didn't used to be perceived at that level - I'm pretty sure, in this society, that it's a consequence of regular web use - an inevitable outcome of being observed too much of the time, at a level of the brain that wasn't evolved for ever being under scrutiny.

natural sorting explains a lot about why tumblr didn't die when it didn't, who's using it, and what's happening to them over time - it's not a moral issue at this level, it's just a neuro/biological one

I'll have to make a decision about it! sucks to be isolated but it sucks worse to be involuntarily converted into a right winger all het up about HBO's latest cop/military propaganda, or Disney's latest love letter to cosmopolitan assimilation …

having life-or-death passionate feelings about fanfiction was funny five years ago; five years hence a fraction of its biggest victim/perps will just begin to start assessing the damage they've been doing to themselves and others. Oof they will have to write about it. Others will respond with equal or greater emotion; schisms of moral value will form, arguments will resume. Reaction - that thing that makes "reactionary" a bad thing to be - will continue to pile dirt on fucking comprehension.

Comprehension is, in the mind of the moralist, equivalent to perpetration. Childlike obedience to an unexamined (often vague) code will be instinctively viewed as morally superior to any philosophy, any impulse to argue, any sign of dissent or disagreement.

Moral tyrants never stop hurting people, because they believe they're doing it for your own good, and instead of getting tired, they get obsessed.

People who are already behaving online as if their toddler-level morality is religious law will need rehab, social support, and a lot of forgiveness if they ever come out of it. Unscientifically I reckon 12% or less will, just based on personal experience. I won't be able to give it to them myself, it will have to come from people willing to be viciously and repeatedly attacked for having the temerity to disagree with their fledgling (straight up fucking christian nazi) ethics.

The reality on Earth requires banding together. Vicious, small-minded, puritanical, and careless condemnation hasn't led to solidarity, safety, or capability.

The idea that crusading mobs of moralizing scolds "represent" the "future" is as dead as the idea that dems would form a barrier against fascism. "All the old people dying off" just leaves a gobsmacking number of proud violent fascists and bigots - who've convinced themselves they're "progressive" - and no one remaining who's skilled or experienced in any way at explaining why "ha ha making up a guy to get angry at" is dangerous behavior. Armageddon level shittiness.

[astarions-musings]

What do you do when you’ve just woken up from a coma, but nobody even knows you were gone?

This is one of the biggest recurring challenges in our life, as a system with a lot of new headmates emerging on a regular basis (myself included). So many of us have been dormant or barely present in our inner world for a decade, let alone being fully present in our body again. Never mind waking up in a body that is A) an adult now, B) disabled now, and C) trans femme now (which I’m mostly okay with, although it’s a little jarring). The hardest part is waking up after such an enormous gulf of time, with little-to-know understanding of who I am as a person, in a society that’s completely unlike the one I remember, and our system is just supposed to get along with life as though our system isn’t going through the fifth existential crisis this month.

Because if this was something that happened to our body as a whole, it would be way harder to process, but at least there would be a degree of understanding from normative society. People would understand that you’re going through some really heavy stuff right now - both adjusting to the massive gap in your memory and processing whatever horrible circumstances caused you to go into a coma for a decade. People would have lower expectations for a while, as they give your body time to adjust and to process everything. And when it comes to disability benefits, you wouldn’t have to argue your case as to why you need support through all of these challenges.

Now, things aren’t always as dire as I’m framing it as. Our system has lots of people who’ve been through the same situation, and there’s both comfort and solidarity in that. We’ve figured out a lot of strategies for reorienting ourselves in the present and rebuilding our sense of identity, so even if I’m personally overwhelmed by the scale of the task, our system as a whole is confident that we have the skills to get through this. I can see and talk to and share memories with people who’ve gone through exactly the sort of experience I’ve gone through (down to the same formative trauma), and I’ll tell you, that is a huge silver lining. There’s nobody like someone in your head to understand what you’re going through.

But damn. Imagine if mainstream society recognised how huge of a challenge that was, and was willing to show you some grace because of it.

Wouldn’t that be nice.

[pluralsword]

Joy in Expansive Variation

https://www.tumblr.com/conarcoin/707384949821538304/nah-fuck-this-im-not-white-but-we-do-not-need-to?source=share

Yeah to add to what conarcoin says (had to do a separate post to make it clear we weren’t endorsing the video because the video is ridiculous), so we’re gonna pretend now that the overlap between ND and trans folks across racial categories during the ramp up of trans genocide in the USA means that white trans people with mental issues aren’t oppressed huh?

We’re sorry but like, the body we have is white but on account of gender and our brain we still went through hell and still get hell on occasion in a society structurally designed to wear us down either onto the streets or into an institution or dead etc. etc. Like, what? Did we not get sexually harassed several times and freeze up even though our oldest headmate before most of us were around knew martial arts because she had never really been prepared for the way things happened? Did we not get traumatized in school and experience ostracism and end up suicidal? Have we not experienced microagressions at work and threats in the public bathroom? Were we not categorically denied knowledge and actuation that would have made us happy when we were younger? What is this shit. Us talking about it and reclaiming it isn’t social currency- it is agency, it is trying to make a little joy in this often miserable world of hegemonies that we and so many struggle against. We will grant that there are white people who try to do oppression Olympics and who have a puritan punitive policing mentality about liberation which does a disservice to the very idea of liberation and solidarity, but celebrating parts of us that hegemonic masculinity (the international systems of the patriarchy and all the imperial and capitalist stuff that comes with it) wants us tokenised, bled dry from alienated labor, dead, shunned, or repeatedly abused for is not something that is not trying to claim something that isn’t ours.

So there you have our life- but brown and black people like us have it much worse than we do. We’re not going to get into that, they can do that if they want. If people really need to know about some of the messed up imperial shit, go read Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity by C. Riley Snorton, Deviant Care for Deviant Futures: QTBIPoC Radical Relationism as Mutual Aid Against Carceral Care by Ren Yo-Hwang, Anarcho-Blackness by Marquis Bey, Giuseppe Campuzano’s Afterlife: Toward a Travesti Methodology for Critique, Care, and Radical Resistance by Malú Machuca Rose, I Monster: Embodying Trans and Travesti Resistance in Latin America by Joseph M. Pierce and OVERCOMING HETERONORMATIVE HEGEMONY: QUEER RESISTANCE TO NEOLIBERALISM IN CHILE by SHYAM ANAND SINGH  to start to get a picture of it (this is not at all an exhaustive list nor could it ever be, also we are out of spoons after a generally awful day). Would also just generally recommend Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Davis.

So yeah, with all due respect, no. While we are more on the aesthetic read of gender (a discussion for another time) we think Gender as Accumulation Strategy by Kay Gabriel is very relevant in regards to how the fight for trans rights must be framed in a pluralistic form of solidarity.

And we haven’t even talked about plurality!?! Because we honestly don’t know what literature to recommend on plural BiPoC oppression or plural oppression generally. We have not gotten around to reading about it we can only speak to community knowledge and personal experiences and what we can infer from the ND community not getting treated very well by the medical system or by police and many other institutions e.g. with anxiety and ADD (things we have). We will at least say that if you want a non-western, spiritual look at a much older understanding of systems than the recent word plural that also tangles with aesthetic stuff, go read Freshwater by  Akwaeke Emezi.