#tw: longish post

[cognitiveleague]

Just opened FB and saw one of the most baffling “my good bitch, he would not say that” -inducing takes I think I’ve ever seen about a character: transphobic Luffy

Like… the guy who canonically thinks every one of the several GNC, ambiguously genderfluid/genderqueer people he’s met is a) cool as Hell, and b) a person to affectionately refer to with -chan if that feels like it would be affirming for whatever gender situation they’ve got going on? That guy? That Luffy????

For fuck’s sake, Bon Clay was introduced as far back as the first main plot arc after they get to where the plot happens, and like, ok, not everything Oda wrote 20 years ago has aged perfectly, but Bon-chan has *always* been presented as neither exclusively male nor female, and as brave, earnest, caring, and someone Luffy admires and respects.

And it’s even more confusing if they’re up to date on canon! Queens and queers are explicitly shown as the heart and soul of the Revolutionary Army! A trans woman gets outed to Luffy and his only reaction is “wait, I thought you were a girl?” followed immediately by “oh, ok” and nothing changing! He meets a trans man with big ol’ titties and is briefly confused, then shifts immediately to calling him by a pointedly masculine nickname and otherwise treating him exactly the same as any other guy, up to and including hanging out with him in the men’s hot spring with The Boys after that arc’s plot gets wrapped up! The only person who’s weird about his inclusion for the Hot Springs Episode with The Boys is Sanji, who has Chronic Can’t Be Normal About Boobs disorder!

Like I know transphobic trolls will do what they do and are probably being dumb as hell on purpose, whatever, but I’m genuinely not sure I could come up with a major character in any mainstream anime, shonen or otherwise, for whom being transphobic is more demonstrably, canonically, pointedly OOC???

(Which isn’t even touching on the points of “my boy is clearly SOME type of aromantic and/or asexual” or “seriously I think HIS gender is Future Pirate King; why would he care about gender, he can’t eat that OR fistfight it in the parking lot behind Arby’s at some ungodly hour”)

[statesys]

sorta heavy vent. this hasn't been under a cut for a while so I'm adding one.

; eating isn't difficult except for when you're suddenly 11 and sitting at the table trying not to cry because the food in your mouth has the most horrible texture, the lights are horribly loud and everyone's chewing is horribly painful and you feel so bad because you never eat full meals and you feel so guilty, someone cooked this for you and you think it's disgusting ?? and your throat constricts weirdly and swallowing is hard but you don't want to say that because you're already weird and cause so much stress for others, adding to that list won't help anyone so you won't tell anyone about this until you're 14 and keep choking on your food because it's gotten worse recently and a doctor asks about it and your mother accuses you and yells asking why you never mentioned this but this is the exact reason why. but you won't tell anyone because you don't want to be any weirder and more difficult, you're already a burden as is. from the day you were born from now on everyone has made it very clear you're strange. but it's okay because eating isn't difficult

[signed-sapphire]

I have a really important question

So, as some of you may know, I'm creating an entirely-told-through-comic story of my rewrite of Disney's Wish. My rewrite changes Asha's personality to fit with who I enjoy to see in media, edits her design to make her less generic and more representational of the culture she is from, and adds a Starboy to act as her foil and trigger her character arc (as she does to him). Asha in The Fallen Star is a spoiled, Kusco-like princess insistent on getting her wish to become the greatest sorceress granted by her adoptive father, King Magnus. She doesn't care much for the people of her kingdom and yet still expects them to obey her every command. She's rude, self-centered, and sassy.

Now, I'm 100% on Korean, which means I am not black at all. So I've been doing some research about black culture and traditions to make sure I'm accurately representing Asha, even if it is in my own silly little rewrite. A great account I recommend following is @creatingblackcharacters, as they have so many good resources for writing black characters, especially if you're not poc.

For example, I cut out a scene where some children in Rosas braided Asha's hair with flowers (a reference to Tangled) because I learned that hair is a very important thing in black culture. I didn't want Asha to protest having people she was uncomfortable with do her hair because Starboy told her to be nice. Her braids are a special thing that connects her to her birth parents, and respecting that boundary was more important than shoving a reference in for me.

Now, I recently came across another article addressing the "angry black woman" stereotype in media. A pretty famous example of this is that patronizing and racist comic panel of Serena Williams. Essentially, the stereotype is suggesting that a black woman being angry is because she's a "beast" and "can't control her emotions" instead of thinking why she could be justifiably angry.

Here's the thing. TFS!Asha gets angry. She yells. She throws things and lashes out at people. She has visible muscles and a strong build. She makes threats and hurls insults. She loses control of herself at times. She has panic attacks and is closed-off and rude after she comes out of them. She's Kusco on steroids, basically, if Kusco was fueled by not only wayyyy to much self-confidence, but fear that if he didn't guard his heart, it would get shattered.

Part of Asha's arc is her learning to move forward (not move on) from her trauma as a child, when Stars rained down and killed her parents. She puts up with more stuff and learns to temper her anger, but she's still passionate. She's still witty and sarcastic. She's just opened herself up to other people, now.

Now here's my question: do you think my Asha is the "angry black woman" stereotype?

I can't think of any examples off the top of my head where this is shown nicely in media. If you do think that Asha is a caricature, please please tell me what could be improved! I really want to make sure I'm respectful of Asha's Amazigh heritage and to actually showcase parts of that if I can.

Sorry for the long read! TLDR; my Asha gets angry, but is she the angry black woman stereotype?

@annymation @oh-shtars @uva124 @your-ne1ghbor @spectator-zee @emillyverse @chillwildwave @rascalentertainments @mythartist21 @kstararts @ishadow246 @tumblingdownthefoxden @thisnameisnotspokenfor @dangerousflowerpanda @cocoapowderpictures

[panaceawriting]

If I live long enough to get there

Written December 27th, 2024

Tw's: Serious injury, one graphic depiction of a wound

I stumbled through the now-empty halls of my former workplace, trying not to lose too much blood. I was an endocrinologist, and one of the best in my field at that. By no means should I have had a dangerous job, and yet, when the CIA or whatever approached me to offer a position at a fucking secret laboratory for biological testing, my dumb ass said yes. I was good at it, too. I had one of the best track records in the company. It couldn’t last, though. And of course, when it all went wrong, it all went as wrong as possible all at once, because nothing we were doing here was ever a good idea. We did pretty well for a while; the place had been going strong for seven years when I got there, and I worked for another eight. All it took was a single beat missed, though. 

Something had stabbed me in the abdomen as I was running. It scampered away so fast, I couldn’t tell what it was, but I had a guess based on the vomiting blood and fainting. I didn’t have any way to tell how long I was passing out for, but it shouldn’t have been more than a minute at a time. Still, apparently that was enough time for me to be left behind, enough time for something to take off half my foot without waking me up. 

I had been trying to get to an elevator, but my brain was pretty fogged at the time, and those harsh blue lights were giving me a migraine. Still, I was starting to panic by this point, thinking I had made a wrong turn somewhere. I quickly ducked into a nearby room, part of the administrative department, hoping to find a map, or at least a moment to gather my thoughts. I stumbled into the cubicle nearest the door. Taking off my coat, the piece of cloth I had used to stop the bleeding in my side was near saturation. 

I tried booting up the computer, and by some miracle it almost worked, but it crashed before I could get anything of use out of it, and I couldn’t get anything after that. After a moment of resting, I went to leave, but I was hit with an overwhelming sense of dizziness, and had to sit back down. I fought against it for as long as I could, but I passed out after what probably wasn’t too long. 

I woke up about half an hour later; the blackouts were getting longer, which was concerning. Very concerning, actually, but I didn’t have the resources to do anything about it, so it’d have to either be fine or kill me. Pushing through the waving in my head, I stood up, and kept moving towards the nearest elevator, hoping it would be operational. 

It took a while and a few wrong turns, but I did make it to the elevator, though the poison was rapidly getting worse. I leaned against the smooth metal doors, trying to poke through the thickening fog in my brain to press the button. I slammed the button, and stumbled back. I did my best to look forward and watched as the door. Slowly, creakingly, the two metal panels slid apart, revealing an empty elevator shaft, countless cables and wires scaling the sides. 

I stared down the shaft, dejected. I considered climbing down, but after a sudden bout of dizziness brought me to my knees, I had to accept that it wasn’t happening. I sat down by the door and, for lack of anything better to do, cried until I passed out, which wasn’t long. 

I woke up some time later; I’m not sure how long, but it was long enough that my throat was dry when I returned. I got up, my legs shaking, and started walking away. Looking back, I’m not sure what my goal was. I wanna say I was going to find another elevator, but I think I might’ve just been looking for a better place to die. I’m not sure, my thoughts were all kind of blurry at the time. 

I remember passing that big yellow ‘dangerous product ahead’ sign by the doorway to the wing where they kept the fucked-up things. I stumbled through the halls, each and every door opened. I’d poke my head into the cells for projects I was familiar with; they were all empty, with the exception of one immobile thing, which I felt bad for, but didn’t have the capacity to help. As the poison’s symptoms got worse, I sat down to rest, if just for a bit. 

After a bit, I started to feel a pounding in my head. I assumed it was the poison at first, but it became quickly apparent that it was, in fact, the sound of something rather large approaching. I got up and did my best to run, but with the weakness growing in my legs compounding with the sudden vertigo that came with standing up, I moved far too slow, far too late. I heard a voice behind me, though I didn’t have it in me to turn around. 

“Oh, it’s you.”

I felt whatever was chasing me pick me up, and seemingly sling me over it’s shoulder. All I could see from there was the back of the orange jumpsuit we give to all the human-shaped things we make, but between the thing’s size and it’s voice, I had an idea of who this was. I always thought that the orange uniforms were meant to make us less empathetic towards the subjects, maybe by reminding us of prisoners to imply they deserve this, somehow. The higher-ups insisted that it was for economic reasons, though, and I definitely don’t doubt that they were cheap. Anyways, in the adrenaline of being chased and picked up, I passed out pretty quickly. 

The next moment I was aware, I was laying on a blanket in a cornfield. Looking up, I saw the sky stretching out above me, blue and clear in every direction. It wasn’t until I sat up and felt the breeze blowing through the corn that I accepted that I was actually outside, and not just having some weird hallucination. I turned around, and jumped as I saw my… kidnapper? Or maybe savior? The person who took me was sitting behind me, eating a cheeseburger in two bites. 

She was one of the first projects I was assigned to, and supposedly one of the first human subjects at the facility. To my understanding she was more or less someone they grabbed off death row and pumped with experimental drugs, but that was all years before I got there. I was never given a name for her, just an identification number. 

We made eye contact a moment later. 

“Oh, shit, you didn’t die.”

“I… didn’t. You didn’t kill me.”

“Y’don’t say. I don’t have like, any memories from before y’all started tryin’ shit on me, d’you know where I could get like, an ID or somethin’?”

“I- No, I do-”

“Figures. Y’might wanna get that checked by the way, shit smells rotten.”, she gestured to the wound in my side.

I slipped my coat off, pull up the corner of my shirt, and sure enough, it was not doing well. The edges of the wound had turned purple with necrosis. I pulled the cloth out, its former rich violet now stained rust red-brown. 

“I’ll carry you to the nearest city if you spot me some cash.”

“I- if I live long enough to get there, sure.”

[crystalline-loptous]

well I’ve officially lost motivation for a Morgius project but I might as well share the “storyboard” of what might have been

it was supposed to be a short animatic/pmv to the song Suicide (The Lovers) by Fame on Fire which you can find here

Pt 1: “I know it might be suicide”

-here I was planning to just have Julius staring forward accompanied by the words to the song.

Pt 2: “With you forever”

-Morgan would be looking back lovingly with the words appearing in sync to the song

Pt 3: “but I'll follow you all the way”

-A cute scene with Morgan pulling Julius along with him, didn’t have an exact setting, could have been an open field or a market. Pt 4: “Suffering I'm so alive”

-Loptous looms over Julius for one frame during the line “suffering” before the scene snaps to Julius looking at Morgan with a semi surprised expression (implying Morgan can somehow suppress Loptous… cute headcanon of mine)

Pt 5: “I need you next me”

-Julius grabs Morgan’s hand in this part

Pt 6: “I'll hold you till the end”

-Julius is hugging Morgan in this scene cherishing the moment.

Pt 7: “If you're the end of me”

-The scene will cut to a darker kind of atmosphere where you can see a sword penetrating something… or someone. There’s blood on the blade.

Pt 8: “End of me”

-It’s revealed that Julius has been stabbed through the heart with Falchion, He’s smiling with blood staining his mouth. (You can’t see his whole face)

Pt: 9 “Love is Suicide”

-Morgan is hugging Julius with a horrified expression with blood staining his cheeks and hands as he’s holding onto Julius. Morgan is sitting with Julius’s limp body leaning into him. (Morgan is also fatally wounded here but I dunno how to depict that lol)

Bonus Scene featuring my OC Marcellus

“Dear beloved We are here today In the final resting place To seal their fate So we mourn the loss Of all that could've been As we end the story With their deadly sins”

several scenes of Marcellus sitting in front of two gravestones implied to be his parents, the scene flashes from his mouth, teary eyes and finally zooms out to him sitting in front of their graves with his knees pulls close to him.

the scene fades to black

Well if you ended up reading this far yaaay! This was an idea I had but I lost motivation for, there’s not enough Morgius content out there so I might as well share this! (Who knows maybe I’ll come back to this or it could possibly inspire someone else! If it does plz, plz, plz tag me!)

I hope you enjoyed peeking into my mind lol

[scenicphoenix]

God tell me about it

My first therapist was a real piece of work

Didn’t know how to deal with SHIT, would openly talk about other patients problem (took phone calls during appointments and than told me the problem of the patient she got off the phone with) and would talk about how my problem would be fixed if I became christian

THAT SOUNDS AWFUL

Therapists who just yap about other patients should be outright ashamed and fired. The only time my current therapist has ever told me about someone was to tell me I’m not the only queer person she speaks to to help me feel less isolated in the rural Midwest.

A lot of Christians and Catholics don’t know shit about mental health. A family “friend” outright thinks it’s bogus and a principal when I was in elementary school and middle school thought I was faking shit. Same principle was apparently afraid of me because of my mental outbursts, I don’t know how adults can fear children they manhandle regularly. Neurotypical children get upset when manhandled, undiagnosed and undermedicated child me was having melt downs. I don’t like being touched without my permission to this very day.

You can skip my god talk if you want (My relationship with god is complicated. To hold any form of faith in the bastard I consider them an artist or writer that can’t interact with us in real meaningful way besides edits to the story or canvas. If god is an artist and/or writer then I kinda understand the madness of the world, you want an interesting story to tell. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.) god talk over

The rancid YouTube comments people keep thinking I’m the crazy one for saying we shouldn’t be calling anyone a serial killer unless they’re Ted bundy or some shit. Is bullying kids online for their mental health normal for them?! I’m going to just mute YouTube I think. Their argument is that killing animals is an early sign of becoming a serial killer. And I wasn’t really saying it wasn’t, I was saying we shouldn’t be calling mentally ill people serial killers in the making. We shouldn’t be cyber bullying people. Especially children. But I also think their argument is bull shit and they watch too much true crime. Is farmer joes son who learned to kill chickens for the family young and learn to hunt deer going to be a serial killer?! Fuckers?!

Christians will find anyway possible to try and convert people. Going into psychology to convert mentally ill people is piece of shit behavior. And a lot of Christians (hey mom!) think queers/lgbt people online are converting their children. They are projecting I think!

[trumpet-vine]

The older I get the more I despise Kiwi Farms. It has been said before, but they specifically target the disabled and marginalized instead of the millions of cisgender, heterosexual & able-bodied creeps because those without support systems (Both legally and socially) are statistically easier to isolate. The biggest contributors of Kiwi Farms are predators. Their existence revolves around scouring the Internet for individuals deemed vulnerable enough to destroy.

It is always abuse campaigns. The imbalance of power and autonomy is the driving force of selecting victims. It's why so many "Lolcows" have been abused prior and disenfranchised in some way. Many of them are persecuted just for the crime of seeking attention and reassurance online.

And whenever they come across someone doing something genuinely immoral, their efforts aren't to try and stop them- it's to meticulously document and encourage the target to do worse. This is a form of amusement they justify using any pre-existing labels with the association of "weirdness" and ""degeneracy"" (LGBTQ+ people, the intellectually disabled, furries, etc) to dehumanize the target and encourage others to do the same. The acts they claim to abhor are gleefully shared around and treated like an art exhibit. It's why the victims of "Lolcows" are blasted in mile long threads with their incredibly personal and sensitive experiences gawked at and dissected without permission.

I earnestly believe that the vast majority of Kiwi Farmers are abusers in some degree in their real lives. They are driven by the same psychological impulses high school bullies are but with the tools and technical knowledge to ruin their victims entirely.

[nebulasexual]

Plain text: Help the TikTok ableists are saying narcs eyes can straight up go black!?!?!? End PT.

HELP THE TIKTOK ABLEISTS ARE SAYING NARCS EYES CAN STRAIGHT UP GO BLACK⁉️⁉️⁉️

bro they think we're mythical fucking demons im done😭😭😭

[nix-sacrificium]

Trach fic?

OHH I haven't talked too much about the tracheotomy fic here, have I? Below the cut because-- Longish post and highly HYDRA Trash Party ahaha TW for : noncon, body horror ( kinda ), forced ( temp ) body mods, wound-fucking etcetcetc y'all should know me by now

So I think the OG thought was "STRIKE-A gets the use of the Soldier as a reward-- Unfortunately, the Soldier's a little.. Bitey. And combative. But that's not gonna stop HYDRA's finest, is it?

The Soldier, bound to a table and firmly muzzled, gets a hole cut in his throat-- If he's gonna bite, then they're just going to use his throat another way. + Bonus points if a cock comes out of his mouth from the incision.

I really just gotta finish fleshing out my 'Brock Rumlow STRIKE Team' characters ahaha

[zephrunsimperium]

Y'all... I have another AU ToT Bill got to be a human so naturally I made a completely different universe in which Ford is a demon. The brainrot is real and I wanna post stuff here soooooo

What I love about this AU is that I’ve put the twins in a world where their skill sets are valued at opposite levels than they were on earth. But I will say, this AU has developed so much that it's barely recognizable as having started from GF.

TW for death of a pregnant woman, spousal abuse/toxic relationships

Zeph's Demon Ford AU

Part I: Mortality

Stan is the leader of a thieving crew in an apocalyptic world called Scadrial. (I've based this part off of the world in Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn trilogy, but although I recommend it highly, I'll describe all of this so nobody has to have read it to understand.) As for Ford... He and Stan aren’t identical. Ford never bulks up like he does in canon. He likes to read and write but doesn't have much of an outlet for that - he’s just constantly journaling. He’s very quiet, but very spiteful. He doesn’t speak much and is very sickly and awkward. He also doesn’t sleep much so he’s got really sunken dark eyes behind longish dirty hair.

Stan obviously loves Ford very much, but the crew members are kinda pissed that he’s there because they feel like he doesn’t do anything and yet he gets paid for their work. At one point his journal gets stolen and he’s outed for his crush on one of the (male) crew members. This really weakens Stan’s reputation and the crew pulls a coup.

The twins end up on the streets and Ford just feels awful; he was utterly humiliated and the crew members really roughed him up. He hated feeling so weak. He also starts having awful nightmares; he's being targeted by a dream demon named Korro. The demon repeatedly asks Ford to make a deal with her, but Ford refuses again and again. Ford ends up killing a nobleman; for his pocket change, but really to prove something to himself. The noble's murder attracts the attention of law enforcement and he and Stan are captured. Before they're executed, Ford decides to take the demon's deal.

Part II: Fiddleford

Ford and Stan spend years as the demon's servant, until Ford is able to overthrow her, taking her power for himself. He received the powers of the dream demon and Stan received the power of a shapeshifting illusionist. They were left with a problem, however: if Sixer didn’t get enough worship, both he and Stan would die. Taking the name Sixer to separate himself from his younger, weaker self, he devised a strategy where he would find a mortal to seduce, squeeze all the worship he could out of them, kill them, and live off of the power until he needed to find someone else.

Eventually, Sixer started conning Fiddleford McGucket, a newly wed cattle driver in 1880s Texas. He preyed on Fiddleford’s closeted sexuality and faith, posing as an angel sent from god to help cure his sexual deviance. Fiddleford, however, took longer to con than most and Sixer was forced to spend more time with the man. Out of jealousy, he poisoned a pregnant EmmaMay, getting Fiddleford all to himself.

Sixer decided he had spent far too much time and energy on Fiddleford to murder him like the others - and growing up with very little as a child had made Sixer VERY territorial. Before Fiddleford could find out that Sixer had lied about being an angel, he convinced Fiddleford to give him his soul and make him immortal, gifting him the power to control memory and a body made of vegetation.

Fiddleford would spend the next century trying to justify…. Everything. Sure Sixer had lied and had been trying to con him, but he was clearly being given special treatment compared to Sixer's other victims. Sure he only admitted he loved him when he was intoxicated but he did love him! Sixer's drunken rants about his childhood and peeks into his memory only made him seem more redeemable.

(Stan, in case you’re curious, just eventually learned to do his own thing, scamming people on the internet by pretending to be a gamer girl named StaZ. He talked to Fiddleford one on one a lot but Sixer had changed so much, any interaction he had with him usually ended in a shouting match. Unable to leave, Stan just tries to keep his head down and enjoy what little he can)

Part III: Bill

While Sixer grew resentful of Fiddleford’s clinginess, Fiddleford grew resentful of Sixer’s unfair treatment. Eventually, he murdered one of Sixer’s targets in self defense, cutting off his worship supply. In retaliation, Sixer picked up a recently reincarnated Bill Cipher (from after the canon Weirdmageddon events) to make Fidds jealous.

Excited about the prospect of winning over a different Stanford with sticking it to a different Fiddleford as an added bonus, Bill agreed to the hook up and ended up convincing Sixer to get rid of Fiddleford entirely. Sixer hated the fact that his soft spot for Fidds had made him weak and Bill offered to fix the problem of his worship supply's connection to his mortality so it seemed a fair trade.

Sixer's regret for killing his unofficial consort was strong, but he tried his hardest to push it down. The regret grew, however, into resentment for Bill and Sixer decided to overthrow Bill the same way he did his old demon master. Bill figured out early that Sixer was planning something like this, but - unwilling to accept the idea of losing Ford a second time - denial prevented him from taking any course of action against Sixer's machinations. Until, that is, they grew too hard to ignore and Sixer exploded about how killing Fiddleford was the worst mistake he ever made.

Enraged by a second betrayal, Sixer met the same fate by Bill's hand that Fiddleford had met by Sixer's own.

(And Stan lived happily ever after)

[ghost-jester-sys]

Longish vent post

Words and grammar will be bad. Phrasing may be poor.

TW for: topic of CSA and trauma. No details.

we have many alters who have physical reaction to front

example Somni cannot feel the bodys legs. cannot move withojt lots of effort and feels numb and tired sleepy.

this cus of csa and specific trauma

and we know why but is still so stressful

she gets scared because brings back memory of it and makes more physical flashbacks worse

she always fronts when we sleep also. again cus of the trauma

have always known we go numb and not move good when going to sleep, but now know why its made sleeping vry hard

[writing-whump]

(Tw: cardiact arrest/recitation/techincal death)

Ooh! I absolutely loved your last fic! It gave so many awesome whumperflies! So I have to ask; with Isaiahs heart condition, since he hasn't gotten treatment for it, will it lead to a straight up cardiac arrest? If so, how will Matthew and the rest of the team react? Like during a regular day Isaiahs just washing dishes or taking out the trash and 'BOOM!' he's down, who notices first? Who freezes and starts screaming for him to wake up? Who jumps into action to start cpr (or another method of reviving him)? It's been mind boggling since I read your last post. (But if this ask is too much please feel free to ignore).

Oh hey! Thank you, I'm glad you liked the fic ^^

Tbh, something like this scene is coming👀 once the story dwells a little deeper into why it's so difficult for a shadow wolf in general and Isaiah in particular, to get treatment. Then an episode serious enough will happen that it will land him in a hospital and force some revelations and some longish recovery and medicine.

As for your questions ;) Seline would def panic the most, since she knows there is a secret, but she has no idea what it involves. Matthew witnessed these problems more, so he would jump into action and decide it's too serious to do alone and call for help.

Thanks for the interest :D

[that-guy-sleepy-miles]

Monkie Queen - I have a lot of question TuT (you can answer seperately or together it doesn't matter) Does Mk become very violent when Red doesn't do what he asks or just manipulates him into doing so?

Does Mk ever force affection towards Red? Like if Red is exhausted or just isn't in the mood,Mk just demands his queen to do what he asks?

Forced Wedding Idea I had - where DBK and PIF (maybe Wukong and the gang too maybe) crash the wedding at the last second, making Mk completely go into madness, destroying and nearly killing them, but his weeping bride begs him not to. Red doesn't the unspeakable and tells Mk that they can just run off together and never come back. Which without hesitation or a single goodbye, Mk picks up Red as he dashes off.

[OUTDATED]

Does Mk become very violent when Red doesn't do what he asks or just manipulates him into doing so?

Both! MK with try manipulation and violence, and often does both over the same thing. Red's poor head is spinning

Does Mk ever force affection towards Red? Like if Red is exhausted or just isn't in the mood, Mk just demands his queen to do what he asks?

MK forces affection on Red like it's no tomorrow. Red has become conditioned to MK's affection and can't even sleep without the other cuddling him. Not that he can sleep with MK that close to him, so vulnerable- Red sleeps because he passes out, not because he drifts off.

Red has moments when he drifts into his fantasies where the affection is 'consensual', but more often than not it's simply him kissing MK because he's supposed to kiss MK, not because he wants to. When he isn't in his fantasies, he kisses MK with his eyes open. Closing his eyes would make it 'romantic', and Red wants anything but that.

Forced Wedding Idea

Ah, if only. Red's forced wedding had a lot less "let's run away together" and a lot more "if I scream he'll kill me in front of everyone". He knows it was his chance to get away, MK's friends were there, they would've calmed MK down but...

fear held his tongue.

He lost his only chance, or so it seems.

(Wukong, DBK, and PIF do try to get Red back at some point, but it doesn't go well. Wukong ends up physically unable to speak about Red Son at all)

[seven9s10s]

survivor

(just gonna leave this. deeply personal vent poem right here.)

you hate the word.

you’ve heard it all your life.

every time somebody clawed out of a car wreck,

every time somebody was the last one left,

every time somebody forced themselves through a hardship worse than death.

your mothers a survivor.

a survivor of your father.

you’ve been told this before you knew what it meant, before you knew the connotations, before you knew telling someone you didn’t want to hear about it made you feel selfish and sick.

you’ve heard it so much, that the idea of calling yourself one, someone who’s lived through a hardship worse than death, feels strange.

you’ve heard it so much you could never imagine being one.

because, when you look at your mother, you find yourself bargaining.

there was nothing to survive.

the hands around your throat were not meant to kill.

the honeyed words embedding under your skin not meant to cut.

there was nothing to survive.

not the sleepless nights, as ghosts of grubby hands skated across your pale skin.

not the cries of, god somebody help me, i don’t know why it’s wrong.

because, that’s not survival.

it’s not living, but not survival.

you’re not a survivor.

you will never call yourself that.

you were overlooked, a victim, a child.

a child that shakes at the thought of anyone ever touching you the way he promised to.

and now, you’re a testament.

you’re a testament to survival, a perfect, mild mannered thing that prooves that she got something.

that her survival meant something

you were never a child.

you were never a victim, or overlooked.

you were a trophy, to be shown and fawned over.

god forbid you were anything less.

[shinjis9]

I feel like it's so important to reiterate how lucky we are in Western communities right now to be LGBTQ+. In the US, while I won't deny there are states that are openly transphobic and hostile towards members of the gay community, most of us are accepting and in some places the most you'll get is someone grumbling loudly. It's really to the point where people forget that being gay is punishable by death.

I hate thinking about what happened the other day. I know I'm lucky to live where I am, be able to dress how I want and if people don't like it they'll just ignore me which is fine by me.

It was infuriating watching the CCTV footage and all the other photos and videos that surfaced of the incident in Hong Kong at the Diamond Hill mall. The kind of blind rage I want to go into. I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating when I say that I cried after watching the video, because it happened to someone way across the world from me.

But I think as traumatic and triggering the footage was, its existence shouldn't be hidden or erased.

The authorities and news outlet are trying to remain vague until further information has been acquired. But you know that kind of vague where it does an absolute disservice by lessening the intensity of the act.

The "mentally ill man randomly attacked two women at a mall" descriptions are aggravating to read. There's other security footage showing the 39 year-old man calmly examining and buying a knife from another store in the mall. The main CCTV video of the crime shows him beelining towards the obviously butch woman and stabbing her furiously while onlookers just cleared the hall.

Even if the man had never met them before, he had so many targets he could have chosen. Literally ANY other woman. But HK individuals have mentioned: they will go for the butch lesbians first, because they feel like these women have taken future wives from them like they were owed one.

Not only that. After he goes through the two of them he just stops and waits for the police to come. Even when faced with the riot shields he just calmly stands there with the aura of "take me away, I accomplished what I came here to do."

Fucking disgusting.

It's also appalling that I have not seen more coverage of this incident because it was so brutal. It's not like the couple were found dead after the crime, they have it on camera and everything.

And at the start of pride month as well?

Don't tell me that it's not misogyny and homophobia all wrapped in one.

Please remember how lucky some of us are and how we can freely express our identities. Others are not so lucky and need all the support they can get. Sometimes this support is as simple as not outing them to members of their community and understanding why they choose to hide, because in some cases they could get killed for something as innocuous as holding hands with their significant other in a public space and being gender non-conforming.

[reicartwright]

Day 3

Write about your most interesting grandparent.

I keep writing about my grandma. Maybe it’s how I grieve.

But tonight I will write about someone else. She’s not my grandparent, not biologically. But she lives down the street And we’re friends And she shares stories and sweets And she’s about the right age to fit the role. She’s the closest thing I have to a grandma here.

Years ago, not a lot but a few, I would visit her at least once a month Sit in her living room Ask how she’s doing Listen to her stories. She loved to talk about her childhood And about her husband And about her family. I would listen to her for hours, Whether I planned to or not.

She gave me a Rice Crispies wreath for Christmas, A hand-crocheted scarf for Valentines, A blanket when I graduated. She made them so beautifully, Even though she’s mostly blind. She once told me she adores Little Debbies So I would bring her a box on holidays And she would joke about whether or not to share.

This year, I missed her birthday. I knew it was her birthday. It doesn’t even need to be on my calendar, I’ve known it for so long. But I missed it. I saw her on her birthday, from afar. I could have run over and said something. But I missed it. It’s easy for me to forget how old she is. How long, I wonder, until she’s gone And I remember the times I came And the time I missed it.

Somehow I keep writing about my grandma. Maybe it’s how I grieve.