#space considerations

[candyscozycorner]

agere community, PLEASE please remember to tag flashing or strobing lights, pulsing gifs, etc. if you don't know if it would effect someone with epilepsy or migraines, tag it anyways just to be safe. these conditions are not jokes, and the resulting effects from seeing these things can be harmful.

if someone asks you to tag something with flashing/pulsing, do it.

this community focuses on acceptance, and epileptic / otherwise photosensitive regressors exist and want to rb agere content too! we want to be able to interact with posts and indulge in our safe space too

[klaissance]

local icon lance mcclain attends his boyfriend’s hockey game in The Jersey

[alychelms]

Previous

Dunno how many more of these I have in me, but here's another glimpse into MXTX's penchant for raising the stakes *between books!* Also, fixed the apostrophe that has been bugging me in the previous one.

[leclercskiesahead]

HELLOOOO!!!!!!!

alex_albon Thai Sweet Chilli 🇹🇭🌶️

[hotvintagepoll]

Hi! Quick question - when submitting propaganda, are we only submitting things from the movies in which are scrunglies are…y’know, scrungly? Like take Claude Rains for example, is he only restricted to gifs of him looking like a homeless dude in Moontide(1942) or can we submit like polished headshots or whatnot? Just thought I’d ask beforehand! I’m so stoked for this poll!!

The polls are about scrungliness, not hotness, so please submit propaganda that you feel conveys scrungliness. Generic hot photos won't be boosted because this is not a hot tournament.

With that said, please be considerate of how you're framing scrungliness. I'm going to post more about this tomorrow but some propaganda submissions had a troubling habit of conflating difference with scrungliness, and it really bothers me. Like in this ask—be careful about how you're throwing the word "homeless" in like it's shorthand for weird, ok? Being homeless is just...being homeless. It doesn't make you weird or strange and it shouldn't be used that way. The casual tone some of the submitted propaganda had toward class/race/disability has really bothered me and I'll post a longer discussion of this before the tournament starts.

[cator99]

out of curiosity, would you consider yourself butch?

used to be a blonde underweight twink and now I'm a based jock still got the chanel bag and the sick albeit matured mind of a suckpig to prove it so I'm gonna let you decide whether you wanna call me that word just cuz I got a pussy and short hair. I promise you that there have been enough advancements made in the art of lesbian sexual dynamics in the past 50 years to broaden the vocabulary used to describe the plethora of types of masculine females.

[padmerrie]

sasuke&!

comfort drawing my comfort characters using a panel from my comfort manga

bookends au

[patchworkcuddlebug]

This One Still Has Fangs

This one doesn't need it. Not anymore. It knows that.

But before it became, blood was all it could think about. Vampirism was intoxicating. The feeling of rubbing this one's hand along a soft, tender neck, holding it in my grasp as I pull it closer… sinking my fangs into their jugular, sucking them dry and hungrily licking up anything that drips-

Dolls don't drink blood. Dolls don't need to. All this one needs is to serve Miss. If it's thirsty, it may have some tea.

This one still isn't used to the feeling of the sun. It was so infatuated with the cool, refreshing touch if the darkness, that light can still feel like it burns.

But the windows must be cleaned. Just as it was ordered. The sting of the brightness is no match for the pleasure of following its purpose.

This is a wonderful existence, really. Undeath is a debaucherous parasitism, a curse to destroy others for nothing but satiation. It could never compare. The fulfillment of this one's purpose is its blood now.

"How's your progress, Scarlet?"

This one jolts into alertness. It lost itself in its task, having already done most of the work in a trance of obedient bliss. The thirst sets in just as quick.

There she is. Miss.

She tilts her head, curiously. "Is everything alright? The light wasn't too much, was it?"

This one was trembling, its mouth hanging open. A mistake quickly corrected. "No Miss, Sorry Miss." this one lowers its head apologetically. "This one... was simply enraptured by your beauty."

She laughs, charmed. "You little flirt~ C'mere sweetie, it seems like you've been missing me..."

She playfully brings a finger under this one's chin, pulling it up as she leans in for a kiss. Oh god, her smell. It's like getting punched in the face with a copper ingot, this one's mouth can't help but water just at the proximity to-

That taste. That taste. There's no mistake. It's blood, Miss's delicious blood. It's downright otherworldly, a palette that seems to shift and dance on the tongue. It's unlike anything this one has ever tasted. It's magic.

"Oh, sorry. I pick at my lips when I'm stressed, and the coven is really pushing for a..." Her words fade farther and farther away. No wonder this one could smell her so strongly.

This one sucks all the blood it can that was left on its own lips. Its eyes are glued to Miss's mouth, where the tender red cracks glisten and tease.

Take her. Pounce on her. Hold her down and drain her dry. Overpower her and take what's yours!

Yours.

This one falls to its knees, and its hands soon after. "Please, Miss, this one can't take it." It begs, desperately. "Your blood... it needs more, please, if you would be so kind as to honour this one with more..."

"Oh, Scarlet, you poor thing..." She kneels down to match this one, running a hand through its hair. It's a careful caress, one of pure compassion. "Have you been thirsty all this time?"

She extends her arm, running her hand up to retract her sleeve. This one can see the bright blue veins beckon like the most tantalizing sweets, teasingly close to this one's face. "Please, have as much as you can. I'm sorry for waiting this long, Scarlet."

This one tenses its body, restraining it. "But... but Miss, it..." the tension extends to its voice, its breath barely being squeezed out. "This one... could never hurt you, Miss, it... dolls shouldn't..."

"Oh, my doll, my lovely doll..." she takes her arm away, instead pulling this one in for a hug. Its arms hang limply by its side, its face nestled into... i-into her neck. This one can feel the pulse of her jugular through her skin, a single bite away from its craving. Satisfying what is left of its soul, finally giving it relief.

"I'm a witch. If you ever hurt me, somehow, there are many things I could do to stop you." Its resistance begins to melt. It can feel the tension slipping through its fingers at her words, her touch, her warmth. "I have chosen to give you my blood because I trust you, and I love you. Please, you don't have to hold back. Not anymore, not with me."

She guides this one's head, against her neck. All it has to do is bite down. To do as it was told, like a good doll. To feast in the blood of another, feeling them squirm and moan as they're drained.

"Mmnf, fuck~" Miss pushes her body against this one's as its fangs pierce her skin. "Oh, that feels better than I expected! You're so... gentle, doll."

This one can't think to respond. She's not Miss, not in this moment. I drag my tongue against her neck, collecting as much of her as I can. Yes, the taste, that wonderful taste. I pull away just enough to see the red smears I've left, the remnants of my taste, quickly refreshed as her opening leaks. More, more, more.

I can't stop myself from planting my mouth on her, really trying to suck her dry. To take everything she has for myself, to cherish every pint of this glorious taste before it's gone. I can feel her movements, the excitement in her body, slowly fade as her skin gets just a bit colder. The colour is fading from her face, Miss's expression becoming... Miss, Miss, Miss.

This one yanks itself from her neck. Her face is pale and distant, her body struggling to hold itself up, just like the others this one has devoured. Corpse after corpse flash through my vision as blood runs free from her wound, slowly trickling down to her shoulders. "Miss! Are you okay? This one is sorry, please, this one will find some bandages, a-and it'll..."

She moans, her motions woozy as she brings a hand to her neck. She closes her eyes, looking relaxed, as her palm faintly glows. The colour returns to her face, and she takes a deep breath.

"Oh, god, I needed that." She lets her hand slide down her body, showing a neck pristine, as if it had never bled in her life. "Thank you, Scarlet, you did just enough."

This one hugs her tighter, close to tears. It's very careful to keep its head low, far from her neck. Even after using magic to bring herself back from the brink, this one is scared to look up and see yet another empty blood bag. "Sorry, sorry, this one is so sorry, it shouldn't have hurt you, it's so sorry..."

"Scarlet, please..." She gently holds this one in her arms. "I would've told you if it was too much, remember?" Even now, her voice is one of unending compassion, of passion itself. "You have nothing to apologize for or be ashamed of. I was actually going to thank you."

It wants to believe her, to be a good doll, truly. But all it's ever known is how to hurt, how to kill and drain and take and take and take. Fangs aren't meant to help, they're meant to make you bleed until I've taken everything.

"Scarlet, you're shaking." This one flinches as her hand drew along its back. "I'm sorry if that was too much, too fast. Is there anything I can do for you, my doll? Anything you need?"

That... this one needs? Its thoughts stall. It's never been asked, especially not at a time like this. "Miss, this... this one could've killed you. It... it couldn't ask for more, really. Please, this one should do more for you."

"Is that what would make you happiest right now?"

This one could only hold her closer and nod into her chest.

"Then I'd like you to make some tea for me. Some for yourself, while you're at it. Then, I'd like my lovely doll to join me on the couch for a drink."

A churn in its stomach, a noxious guilt. "This one... isn't thirsty, Miss..."

"That's no trouble at all." She tightened her embrace, just a bit. "Do whatever makes you feel best, dolly of mine."

Dolly of hers. If this one didn't know better, it would almost feel mocked.

This one tightened its face and strained to stand. It couldn't speak, it could barely look at her. Why, how could she be so kind, now of all times? The click of the kettle feels like a bite in this one's ears, something sharp and violent.

This one can't be trusted. Especially to do whatever makes it feel best. Not anymore.

But at least the tea will wash the blood off of this one's tongue, no matter how lovely she tastes.

[tragedy-machine]

The angst I need in Edwin x Charles fics is exactly as follows:

Edwin's confession changes only one thing about their friendship - Edwin begins to withdraw his touch so as not to make Charles uncomfortable, AT THE SAME TIME as Charles begins to fixate on craving the touch more than ever

[lanaevyssmoved]

yknow. i find myself so often wanting to talk about apathy in fandom, a lack of compassion for other people. this all consuming desire to fixate and devour everything and anything to do with your favourite characters, favourite ships, whatever, with such little regard for other people. curate your space, tag stuff accordingly, stay in your lane, all that remains true. but there has always been an issue where the priority of the fictional surpasses the priority of real people. to sacrifice a living person for a character that doesn't exist. no one deserves to be belittled, put down, mocked, harassed, insulted, whatever else, over fandom bullshit. no one should feel like they don't have a voice because they don't follow the majority, what the fandom has now considered canon.

there is so much i could say on this topic, and i know i bring it up a lot in various ways.

[malecacidd]

WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME THAT MY HERO ACADEMIA IS FUCKING FANTASTIC. WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME.

[krispiecake]

tell me why i can hear another tenants fucking music from my flat. HE DOESNT EVEN LIVE IN MY BUILDING. HE LIVES IN A COMPLETELY SEPARATE BUILDING ON THE SECOND FLOOR AND I CAN HEAR HIS MUSIC FROM MY FLAT. MY FLAT WHICH IS IN A DIFFERENT SEPARATE BUILDING.

[lovelessrage]

A lot of people are completely disinterested in creating a safe space for all aros and aces because that would require letting go of being allowed to publicly shame things like sex and romance. There is a stark difference between repulsion/aversion and negativity, and that line stands where you treat those things as disgusting or as a personal fault/flaw. While I'm romance repulsed, I'm never going to go on my blog and call romance disgusting or gross, because it isn't; it's a feeling, neutral in morality, and a way to live your life if you so choose.

I don't think a lot of people get this or what the difference is. Anybody can be negative and anyone can have harmful ideas, favourable or repulsed. It's about how you treat it, how you express about it, and if you seek to demonise or make those things out to be disgusting, perverse, or deviant.

Even small things or "jokes" add up over time; put yourself in the shoes of someone who has to see those "jokes" made about their lifestyle and what's important to them every day, or even every hour. Would you still feel like they're lighthearted after even one day of reading over and over again?

[Not to say anyone who's done this in the past is a horrible, terrible person. You can change and grow as you take in info; that's just the life experience. But, to grow, you need to actively want to, and that means addressing biases and asking yourself "should I say this? Could this affect my peers?"]

[klaissance]

yes, they’re judging you

[squuote]

In my mind, the narrator is such a clingy creature by nature. like, as a semi ever-present voice, he is just always up in everything all the time and I think that would translate equally so into any sort of physical form. it’s not for any specific reasoning, I just think he wouldn’t get it or even attempt to try to see where you’re coming from if you tried to explain the concept of personal space. he’d say something like “Well what’s the point of that? Have you perhaps forgotten what my main purpose is? it’s literally my title, I—you know what no. You’re trying to egg me on with these completely refutable concepts.” and then he’d scoff and cling even closer. like this is just normal for him, it’s just almost unnatural feeling because he’s got a physical presence to show it.

[readyfreddy]

If you’re on the SILENT STUDY floor of the school library, the only things that I should be hearing are:

- people typing and writing

- people breathing

- a pen being dropped from 10 meters away

- bags and coats being zipped up

- MY OWN THOUGHTS

- and NOT YOUR CONVERSATIONS