#somebody asked me why i care

[uncanny-tranny]

If somebody in your life offers to knit or crochet or, really, create anything for you, please be an active participant in the creation of the piece they are making. I adore making and gifting things, but nothing bums me out quicker than a person who passively just goes "okay," to my ideas about what I'm making them - it can send the message that they won't like it, or that they don't care, even if they're happy about my offering. The back-and-forth feedback is a great way to make sure that you are being gifted something that was truly worth the time, effort, expertise, and money that will inevitably go into the gift!

I know it's really hard to be an active participant, believe me, I'm an anxious ball of horror, but it will only do good for both parties to interact in this situation. It is a big deal to be offered a hand-crafted gift, but it's also something we want you to love and use, and that can only happen if you tell us what would make you fall in love with what we create.

[kacievvbbbb]

I feel like I need to know more about Todo and Yuki’s relationship as mentor and mentee. Like they seem the same flavor of person which is very different from what gojo and megumi have going on.

But also Yuki is very adoptive “dad” coded in the way geto’s relationship to the twins is very adoptive “mom” coded.

In that Geto seems to take on primarily a caretaker role than a mentor while Yuki is more a trainer and life coach than she is a caretaker. Which is something you don’t really see given to female characters in anime.

Like Todo lives by her words and fights by her example. Everything he knows about jujutsu she taught him and Todo’s a very skilled and violent fighter and that reflects back perfectly on Yuki’s own fighting style. It’s so very anime mentor it’s insane she is just introduced to us as Todo (this absolute menace’s) teacher before anything else. I’ve never actually seen a female anime character be introduced this way.

in contrast to Geto who serves as the caring parent who was tragically taken from the girls violently and too soon and the girls wish to honor him and live how he would have wanted them too despite the ungodly situation they find themselves in. Which is such a stereotypical anime mom trope it’s almost funny. He even fits in with the still very much in love with and still speaks highly of the father that abandoned the family in hopes that the kid will one day understand and forgive them. He is essentially the mom from Full Metal Alchemist.

Gege that fucking deranged cat actually flipped the script on us and it’s so interesting which is why it’s so frustrating how little we actually end up getting off yuki when all her little scenes point to such an interestnn in character.

She is introduced as one half of a crazy dynamic that we never actually get to see put to screen and that’s such a shame. Because Yuki is such a welcome addition to the tropes of female characters we need more female “dads”

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ive been unhealthily fixated on kubosai for the past few weeks, i just have no idea how to put it into words. kuboyasu aren and saiki kusuo are in love btw

[praetorqueenreyna]

ppl who are like "if you hate ACOTAR so much why do you spend so much fandom time on it?"

you think I want this? you think I get to choose what media my fandom brain latches on to? There are books that I read that bring genuine tears to my eyes with their cleverness and authenticity that make ACOTAR look like scribblings on a napkin.

trust me, I do not want to be here either

[hildegardladyofbones]

I AM DOING OKAY I AM DOING VERY FINE INDEED IN FACT I AM HAVING A SPLENDID TIME THE WORLD IS A RAINBOW AND I'M ON A SUGAR CLOUD AND THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING THE NICEST GIRL IN TOO-OO-OWN

[robotpussy]

do you not think it’s kind a violation of other peoples consent to hear others having sex in public? especially in a bathroom?

I personally don't care if people have sex in public because it happens for a variety of reasons... whether because they're homeless/they can't have sex at home etc and "just go to a hotel" means you need to have money and hotels aren't that cheap. it's not always because it's a kink and if anything a bathroom is probably a much better place to do it instead of in a park or anywhere that has less privacy than a car or a bathroom. also it's a public space you don't have to stay there if you don't want to hear it

[sunbedo]

Hey guys. gay rights

[waytoomuchanalysis]

"I took your laundry out of the machine to wash the rugs so you should get them out of the laundry basket before they get all mildewy. Also there's a jacket that was laid across the basket but it was all wet so I don't know what you're doing with that."

"Well thanks for leaving my wet clothes in a heap and just taking the machine I love when people do that. Yeah that jacket's not mine, I have no idea what the deal is there but someone put like an inch of water at the bottom of that laundry basket for no reason I can see and then someone tossed that jacket in there without looking and that's why it's soaking wet. I don't know who it belongs to or why there was water in the basket."

"I'm worried it's gonna get all wrinkled."

"Well I don't think it's CLEAN given that it sat in a puddle at the bottom of a plastic basket for a day."

"Can I just hang it up to dry?"

"It is again, not my jacket, so I couldn't care less."

"Well, no man is an island you know."

"Then the non-island shouldn't have tossed their jacket into a bucket of water?"

[mythvoiced]

Aeri can’t decide what she hates more - the way the bejeweled pin in the victor from District 8’s hair is lopsided, or the girl herself. Oh, what Aeri wouldn’t give to wear such an accessory again, or even wear the finery the victor has been gifted to wear to the viewing. That was her once, wasn’t it?

But now? She’s stuck here, watching this spectacle. The brat, who has no idea what privilege she’s been presented with, keeps on creasing the delicate threads of her gown and her stylists also clearly have no idea on how to do the brat’s makeup. And then there’s that damn pin- Aeri’s pin once upon a time- only in place because it’s tangled in there-

And Aeri can’t hold back. When the brat’s stylists are gone, she reaches into the girl’s hair and extracts the pin. Her fingers, callused from years of hard labor that still feels foreign to Aeri, are quick to untangle most of the obvious knots in the brat’s hair before shetwists the locks into a ponytail and then a bun. The pin goes back in.

Aeri glares at the girl through the mirror. Don’t you dare mess up my work.

( congrats lenlen!! you get....aeri, being really resentful, i hope marìa doesn't mind too much ^^' )

@stillresolved | !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LET HER BE RESENTFUL

---

There's a harshness to being dolled up when you are in no way receptive to it.

María isn't foreign to the roughness of life - she's a fucking Victor, after all, isn't she - she's started working in factories just about around the age even the most moral of District 8 people might turn their back in fear on seeing her walk in, pretending not seeing her would free them of the responsibility of working with a child.

Her hands and nose and palate and lungs had long gotten used and keep getting used to the aftermath of working with chemicals, of being so very intimate with garments and colours, with fumes and heat, with the hard work of surviving, with the hard work of fighting to be allowed a minimal chance at said survival, at figuring that there's little more for people from District 8 to fight for.

Still... it's not the same.

Being pushed around, dressed in things she would have never chosen for herself to serve a people, a man, because she's not stupid enough to not be able to tell what is Capitol and what is Snow and how Capitol is Snow, it's a kind of biting and harsh and rough that doesn't leave behind the usual kind of scars and memories and bruises.

Even surviving the Games had come with a desperately accepted sense of relief, one covered in blood and the humiliation of all she'd done and all she'd thought she'd get to accomplish, only for reality to crash in on her in a victory she hadn't wanted to partake in, hadn't wanted to make possible, when she'd wanted her Games to be victor-less in lieu of ending the Games themselves.

This... this is humiliation in the long run. This has hardly any hope attached to it, waiting for her on the other end of the line. Sometimes, on the worst days, it feels like the true brunt of the battle, walking with blood-stained soles and palms and sparkling as she does, wearing all that might make even the softest source of light appear like flames reflecting off her frame, covering her in fire that had not eaten her alive - much to a few people's disdain.

Picking at things, not holding still, grimacing, shifting her muscles, arms, face to make her stylists' life as difficult as possible, it was all she had to fight back.

The Arena came with death and violence, and living back at home had been physical labour upon physical labour, straining her young body until she could no longer tell if she was broken beyond repair or fitter than children her age should be - had they grown up privileged within the Capitol's safety.

Here she has only threads to tear apart and reflections to glare at.

And a new challenge behind every door.

She feels yanked back, an intensity of motion caused less by the avox suddenly in her hair and more her own stiffness that hadn't prepared her for submission to someone suddenly rearranging her.

After her stylists had left, she'd succumbed to the tension of not wanting to be there, without the added hard work of making sure everybody else does. Lost in her thought, somebody's hands suddenly returning on her had fortified, molten it into a newly forged blade, stiff and ready to strike, tensing everything within her and making a few fingers in her hair turn into a grappling hook tied to a moving mountain.

María is startled enough she can't remember how to glare.

A frown does accompany her widened eyes anyway, making her look... appalled, almost, an addition to her expression so unsuited to typically frightened features, youth tainted by the face of someone used to having to fight to stay alive.

It almost happens in a flash then. The reflection moves and adjusts and fixes and what had started as something that had María's lips split into something acid and trembling, turns into something unpleasant and acrid, but silent, as María sits and lets herself be mandhandled one more time.

That's when she glares. After the avox finishes up, after their eyes meet in the mirror and María sees none of the downturned gazes they're trying to make her accustomed to.

Seeing avoxes pisses her off.

Why take it out on them.

She understands what they are, what they're supposed to represent.

To her, an avox is a statement. No longer a person but rather someone rid of their innate right to be considered one. Even with the determination and life in this avox' eyes, María has come to understand them as tools Snow uses to assert his dominance, people from all circles of life, punished with the robbing of their words... and their detached tongue metaphorically forced to lick away at the tip of the shoes of people like María.

All a scheme.

Infighting.

Use the prey on the prey, make them take each other out.

It'd be easier to feel pity if María could sleep, if the avox hadn't adjusted her appearance, and if the avox wasn't staring her down as if she had any right to do so.

She's oddly beautiful.

She's oddly familiar.

"Why are you helping them?" she hisses, low, whispered, because she might never admit it, but she's... she's a little scared, isn't she? Lately? Devora's face swims before her inner eye, so stern, so wrong.

"I'm on your side more than they are," she adds, pulling a strand of her hair out of the freshly adjusted bun.

[mizzmellos]

^one of the most L/Mello songs of all time btw.

[uncanny-tranny]

how did you know you were trans as a kid?

A lot of my understanding of my past has honestly been about being able to look in the past.

As a kid, I simply did what I did to placate others because I wanted to be loved at the expense of myself. I realize many people who are cis have experienced this, but I have tried working in the framework of my expected gender. I have tried multiple ways to present and identify, and the whole thing just felt like a performance. I also just saw myself completely different than how I was expected. I used to be convinced that my voice "sounded male" and that made me feel happy. That's why I simply don't buy that there's "no such thing" as trans kids, y'know? I didn't know gay people existed until I was much older, much less trans people, but I still experienced feelings I do to this day. I never changed, the language did.

Once I came out to myself, everything felt like it fit into place. I suddenly felt the need to be myself, and my life felt like mine instead of being other peoples' lives.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

we should kill more people in here. i think it would be funnier.

[beholdthemem]

The universe saw fit to gift my grandmother with a lovely case of covid for Christmas because of course it fucking did, so the past few days have been, uh...

Busy.

[apologeticaugur]

i'm not a person i'm just wearing skin fabric i've pulled over my skeleton

[robotpussy]

all these baby piercing asks..... i literally don't care. i personally love that i had my ears pierced as a baby regardless of the reason because i know i would have later on gone and gotten them anyway. like I'm not going to get worked up over you sending me the stupidest things one can say about body modification that isn't even as life-threatening as other ones that exist I'm literally just laughing at all of this

[tinogiehd]

ihop

I have. no idea if this is true or not I have never been to an ihop