#we're about a dozen ourselves

[narriaa]

I don't get your logic about the 'manipulation'

There are different definitions of manipulation, of course, but often it's "trying to change a situation by emitting a reaction or message" and it's considered as an intentional act.

This is not what it is about, here.

You tell me "don't talk to me like that, I don't know you" -> it's good you've etablished your boundaries even though I now feel mortified I've trampled over them and/or that I've misjudged the situation. Thus, I'm now willing to defenestrate myself. This is not manipulation because I'm not trying to make you change your mind. I will apologize and feel meek and embarrassed but as long as I'm not trying to reproach you (verbally or not) for speaking up about your boundaries, that's not manipulation. I'm free to feel the way I do.

You feel bad about making me stressed out? I didn't ask for your concern about this point. Why is me feeling bad about trampling over a boundary something I have to work on so that you don't feel bad at speaking up? As a reminder: do not take into account what someone is feeling about your boundaries when you're stating them!

I'm not asking for you to be concerned by my feelings (and the user before didn't seem to ask either), let me marinate in my shame! If you don't feel confident to set up your boundaries without upsetting someone, then you go work on it, because, honestly, you will upset a lot of people and it's still a necessity that you etablish your Dos&Donts. As long as they don't reproach it to you, people aren't manipulating you.

Btw when someone says "don't talk to me like that, I don't know you" the normal thing to do is apologize for the perceived overfamiliarity and correct the behavior. Just in case anyone was wondering

[voices-in-dark-violets-head]

"Be Yourself", says the Furry Fandom.

And yet, as with many things in life, it's far easier said than done.

I've found that 'being myself' can take a lot of bravery, but I want to tell you why it's so, so important.

Storytime!

At Eurofurence this year, I ran the e621 Gameshow for the third year in a row. And for the third year in a row, we were over capacity. As in, security-comes-in-to-tell-people-to-leave levels of over capacity (Which, my dear sympathies once again with those who had to go!)

We had a crowd that was there for an hour and a half of weird furry porn. Who cheered for horsecock. Who delighted in Falco Lombardi macro art. A hundred people - a quarter of the room - gleefully admitted to being into vore.

The atmosphere was electric, and I hadn't even needed my e-stim kit. This was a crowd who rejoiced in the adult side of the fandom!

And then I asked them - how many people had a fetish they'd be nervous admitting to?

A third of the room raised their hands.

In a room that had been laughing moments earlier about the amount of Mufasa/Simba porn, or getting a 100% success rate on guessing popular cock shapes, 1/3 of them weren't confident in revealing those same parts of themselves.

I don't think this is rare.

I've had folks ask me if I get hate for the kind of art I draw (not really much at all, by the way). But worse, I get people telling me - they wish they could draw what they want, write the characters they love… but they fear what others might say.

I've had commissioners remain anonymous, for fear of people knowing what they're into. Known artists start up alt accounts, so that they can draw a kink without their friends knowing. Writers wringing their hands over possible reactions to their stories.

And I would love to tell you it's all just fear - but truth is, it isn't.

Because it ain't just the big patron sites that are swinging the axe on the 'too weird'. Our own sites - our communities - sharpen their restrictions. Whole kinks, loving and accepted, are now 'too far'.

We're fearing the gaze from the outside. We're hearing their derision. And that can scare us, cause us to hide not just ourselves, but those around us. "What if they think that I'm into that? What would they say? I need to prove I'm not!"

We all crave love and acceptance. And in a fandom formed in rejection from society, don't we just hold such ideals even more tightly? So much so that the very idea of this same community throwing us out - for being ourselves? Of course it's terrifying.

But it turns out, even us outcasts, outsiders… we can all hold prejudices. We all have the ability to draw lines, and give too little thought to what that means. We can so easily turn our own opinions, our fear of what others think of us, into rules that hurt and exclude.

And therein lies the issue. "Be yourself", says the fandom, without stopping to consider how treacherous, how thorned that path can be. To be yourself, sometimes, is to suffer the disgust of those who would tell you to do it in the first place.

But… I'm missing something.

Thing is, this fandom isn't based on any one thing. We're not just here because Zootopia was a kinda cool movie, or Twokinds is pretty sexy, or StarFox looks good when he's fifteen stories tall.

We follow no one IP, no webcomic, no TV show. We follow only one thing:

Ourselves.

WE make the fandom we live in. We're dozens of sexualities, a hundred meetups and conventions, a thousand discord servers and Telegram channels, a million pictures and stories and alt-accounts and roleplays…

We decide what we are.

Aren't we the haven of the weird? The questioning of sexualities? The taboo, even incomprehensible kinks? We joke about vore, knots, gratuitous foot fetishists, but isn't that what makes this place home? Isn't every artist drawing obvious kink art following a beautiful legacy?

We are the monsterfuckers. The maw-obsessed, the paw-sluts, the musk-lovers (er, not that one). With every fetish we draw, every kink we commission, every smut-filled story and problematic character and taboo-laden roleplay…

We're the fandom, making ourselves.

Through being myself, through art and stories and chats and servers, I've found new communities. New friends. New ways to think, new art to enjoy. I've found love, deeper than I ever thought possible.

I've found myself.

And I've been told that through my artwork, stories, friend groups, I've helped people do the same. They've found the words to describe what's been inside them this whole time.

They've found they're not alone.

It's one of the sweetest and most delightful things I've heard.

Yes, it takes bravery to be yourself. You risk being misperceived, either accidentally or wilfully. You risk hurt. You risk confusion. But it's nothing you haven't done before. And in its wake, you will find yourself.

Do not let other people dictate who you are.

Do not let other people dictate who you are.

So when I say to keep furry weird, this is what I mean. Find that part of yourself that yearns to be free, and make this fandom the place for it.

Be yourself. Be so amazingly yourself that your very existence is an act of rebellion.

And Keep. Furry. Weird.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

It's time y'all.

Let's talk about HOBIE & RACE

- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would display black solidarity by finding black women in specific attractive.

- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would possibly like a partner who could understand his experiences with racism.

- It is not problematic to say he would possibly like a partner who understands how to take care of his hair, or shares the same hair texture.

- It is not problematic to say that Hobie would find beauty in features specific to the black race - when we have been told those features are undesirable in every way for centuries.

We gotta talk about how Colorblindness is forced on Black Characters - Hobie in Specific

Y'all - it's time we have a VERY VERY overdue conversation about Hobie Brown and Race.

Because it is a necessary one.

Hobie Brown, The Black!Reader, & Representation -

aka Black people are not Colorblind - and neither is Hobie Brown -

[let Diane hop on the mic right quick Chile]

Stop acting like Black Fictional Characters would be colorblind.

Black people can't be colorblind, because our color is weaponized against us from birth. We HAVE to see race - because we have to protect ourselves and know our own history

So when we decide to make spaces specifically for us - spaces where black people and black women in specific can be desired and uplifted, I don't see why people have a problem with it.

Hobie Brown loves, yes. But he also lives in 1978. Racial segregation was outlawed in his country in 1965.

Hobie Brown loves, but he's also a black guy who grew up under racial segregation and racism. He's a black guy who fights cops.

The Writers made Spiderpunk - The Spiderperson who fights oppressive cops - black for a REASON.

The Writers chose to have a black guy save Miles for a REASON. To uplift black people.

Writers here on Tumblr made Black!Readers black for same reason.

If Black Lives Matter doesn't mean White Lives Don't Matter -

Then 'Hobie Brown finds black chicks especially attractive' DOESN'T mean 'white women are unattractive'. This isn't about y'all.

And even for the people that say Hobie would like ONLY black people - okay??? They can say that - it's a literal headcanon.

It's not true if you don't want it to be. You don't have to believe it.

But seeing Black people be protective of a black character, and making black content for other black fans - and then saying 'what - stop that. that's wrong. break this up so I can join'

BEFORE you question why they do it - NOT COOL.

That's like asking for more Captain America in Black Panther. Like ?????

That's like hearing a Riot Grrrl say 'All the women to the front!!' and going 'Uhh, all genders are equal, why can't the men stand in the front too?'

Like yes, all genders are equal. But also - This isn't about them. It's about representation.

Stop preaching equality when we're asking for representation.

Cause there are dozens, hundreds, of white characters who only have white on-screen romances.

And their fandoms do not write black!readers. They do not care enough to say 'oh the show isn't representing this, let us do it.'

The media nor the fandom represent black women. They are an afterthought, always.

And you never see posts for them like -

'Dean Winchester loves black women. Dean Winchester loves latinas -'

When it's a white character only dating white women, with xReaders that always imply whiteness, y'all never call for diversity. At all.

You wouldn't make this post for Miguel.

But when it's a black character and someone suggests they only date black women, or people begin to write xReaders that imply blackness instead of your default-

Suddenly you care about diversity.

Because the first time, you're not represented.

Because let's be honest. Let's be real. No one is writing Hobie x White!Reader. Barely anyone is writing Hobie x Latina!Reader.

It's the Black!Reader you have a problem with. Let's just say it.

Allow black people to have their space, without unfairly calling for 'diversity'.

(aka the right to access to black safe spaces, comfort characters, and labor)

Hobie is an attractive, educated black guy who fights and protects people from the aggressors we ourselves genuinely fear everyday.

He is a character like we've never had before. He has so much emotional weight to us.

Let us enjoy him as we please. We aren't hurting anyone else.

We're just not catering to you. We don't have to.

If a black person wants to center Hobie's love on Black people, they have the right.

And I'm not saying you can't write him with a race neutral or even a White!Reader. Go ahead and write that if you want but just know-

1) If you want to write him with an explicitly white or non-black reader - you should approach the topic of race. You should approach and mention the cultural differences. Him going through racism. Don't erase that because you think it makes your writing ugly or sad.

And if you don't put it in, your erasing the reality and black experience because you find something wrong or uncomfortable about it.

2) If you want to write a race neutral reader - make sure they're really race neutral. Don't include details about hair texture, hairstyle, or skin color.

3) If you are asking black writers for requests - do not get mad if they make the request Black.

You cannot get mad at a black writer for interjecting their own experience when writing about a black character. You're basically asking them to strip their blackness from their writing so you can enjoy it more.

Why should they have to second guess and dial back their blackness when we're expected to do that everywhere? If they want to take a break, and write Black!Readers they can.

3) Understand that the black people are going to keep their safe spaces. And they're going to keep Hobie in their corner.

Because honestly, and I'm going to put this brazenly:

Hobie Brown as a character - and what he represents - means more to black fans than it does nonblack fans.

Does that mean he doesn't matter to y'all? No, not at all. Hobie absolutely holds real emotional weight and meaning to you on multiple levels.

But please understand, for black people - we connect to Hobie on an emotional, often trauma-fueled front.

One that you'll never understand.

There is a level that we connect with him on that nonblack people can't. As a dark skinned black guy, a black guy with natural hair, an alt black guy,

As a black guy who has canonically faced police brutality on-screen

To you, this screenshot is most likely Hobie flipping the camera off, edgy and punk. It's funny, tongue in check. ACAB and all that.

To us, this screenshot is of Hobie - a low income black guy - being physically restrained by police and refusing to stop even when they're taking his mugshot. It's a black guy openly flipping off the police and fighting them off and refusing to go down no matter how much they beat him and he's winning YES

After so many videos over SO many years of cops doing that to black men and them.. not winning.

And them just dying and us having to watch. And add another name to list.

When you see his laces, you most likely think ACAB.

When we see his laces, we see that he's a black man who took on a cop and lived to tell the tale. Which is a RARITY.

Because many of them lose the battle.

For us, the context and connection are completely different.

Fanfiction may just be a way for you to kiss up on random characters or comfort yourself, but for us - that's not the case.

For us, fanfiction is a way to show our experiences and features in a media and world that has collectively ignored them. Shunned them, called them ugly.

Maybe make a post or send an ask to a creator - and ask what Black!Readers mean for them, why they find it important.

Hobie Brown likes Black Girls.

He finds them beautiful. He likes wide lips and broad noses and kinky hair. He loves melanin, and brown skin in the sunlight, and seeing a them in a silk bonnet in the morning.

He loves not having to explain his culture, sharing coconut oil and shea butter. He likes seeing waist beads. He likes people who speak AAVE, with twang in their talk.

He likes ghetto black girls with the acrylic nails. He likes Stallions 6 foot tall. He likes masc girls. And fem ones. He loves black nonbinary people because we do not have to cosign to colonialist ideas of gender. And he loves him some black men too - a good fade will make him go crazy, he loves men with long locs and pretty smiles.

Hobie Brown finds the beauty in Black People that have been erased and demonized again and again by White Society.

Hobie Brown holds blackness dear. And he wants black people to do well.

Hobie Brown loves Black People. Hobie Brown loves Black Girls.

And that's on, what?

This has been a PSA from Diane Pastors. Y'all stay blessed out there 😌💗

Anyway what y'all wearing to carnival since we going to carnival and cropover and labor day with Hobie and bringing out all the flags. 🇧🇧🇧🇧 I'm bringing him to cropover in Barbados yeah I said it we're all going to carnival with him.

[cutielando]

hi! i was wondering if you could write an imagine with jj x reader kinda based of the scene jb and sarah “marry” each other when they were on the boat

married life | j.m.

a/n: thank you so much for sending this in!❤️

my masterlist

Times were tough.

By this point in your life, you had gone through what other people never have to experience ever in their lives, let alone at such a young age.

You thought you would finally have some peace and quiet after Big John had come back. That things would finally have a sense of normality again.

But that was far from the case.

Ever since you head Big John’s plans to fine the mythical city of El Dorado and the gold, your blood had run cold in your veins.

You loved Big John, he was like a father figure to JJ and a protector to all of you, but this was taking it a step too far.

You had already put yourself in harm's way a number of times for your friends, giving your parents one too many reasons to completely disown you for the stress you would cause them.

Telling them that you were going to another continent to search for a city full of golf that might not even exist? They would murder you before you'd even get the words out of your mouth.

JJ, surprisingly, felt the same way.

He loved John B like a brother and saw Big John as his father figure, but even he could admit that the old man's tales sounded far too amazing to be a reality.

And, as much as he would want to go for the sake of his friends, he didn't want to take you with them, and he didn't want to leave you behind either. So, in his books, he couldn't possibly go with his friend and leave you unattended at home.

This sparked many conversations between you two, analyzing the situation and the spot you were in dozens of times. Searching desperately for an answer, for the universe to tell you what the right thing to do was.

But no answer ever came, so you were stuck trying to figure it out by yourselves.

"Are we being bad friends by wanting to stick back here?" you had asked JJ one night while the two of you were relaxing in the hammock installed in your backyard.

"We're just looking out for ourselves, like any sane person would. I don't want to put you in more unnecessary danger than I already have, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Plus, you heard what John B said, he doesn't want us to go with them" he explained, twirling locks of your hair around his finger.

You sighed, nodding into his chest.

He was right, nobody should be mad at you guys for thinking about your safety, for once. You were trying to become more responsible, and this was the first step that would help you do that.

"I'd like to go, as far as one would want to leave their life behind to go on a deadly quest for a city of gold that might not exist, but my parents would definitely murder me if I told them about it" you joked, making the both of you laugh.

"They would murder me first for letting you even think about it, let's be honest" he added, making you laugh even harder.

As funny as that was to the two of you in that moment, he was right. Your parents were counting on JJ to keep you safe when they weren't around, and even though he had done exactly that even in your adventures, they would prefer it if you didn't leave home like that ever again.

"Thank you for keeping me safe all this time" you said softly, turning around so you were face-to-face with your boyfriend.

He smiled cheekily, thinking of a witty comeback, but he gave up once he saw the look of completely love you were giving him.

"It's my job, and it's not like you didn't take care of me either. I would have gone insane on that island if it weren't for you. We protected each other, and we're always going to look out for one another no matter what happens" he kissed your forehead, pulling away to look at you.

The bond you two shared is something nobody could ever understand.

You met at a time when you were both in a dark place, but especially JJ, because of his father. You were the first person not to run away when he completely broke down into your arms, telling you about all of the things his father had done to him over the years.

There was not even a second when you contemplated leaving him, or giving up on him. You couldn't imagine living in a world where he wasn't yours, right by your side and ready to tackle anything life threw at him with you by his side.

He was truly your one and only, the person that you wanted to grow old with and have children with, the only man you could ever love in this life.

The realization hit you like a tsunami, making your brain stop functioning and having a mind of its own.

Which is why the next words that stumbled out of your mouth shocked the both of you to the core.

"Let's get married"

JJ thought he had heard you wrongly at first. Surely, you couldn't actually mean that you wanted to get married, right?

You were both so young, and you always spoke about how you wanted to wait until at least 20 years old to get married.

"What?" JJ asked, chuckling a little to ease the tension.

In any other case, you would be embarrassed to the ends of the Earth, just asking him to forget you'd ever said anything.

But right now, in this moment, you were more confident than ever in your words.

"I don't mean that we actually go and get married, not yet anyway. But just between us, something only we are going to know. Be unofficially officially married. We don't need rings, we can just tie pieces of the bandana you gave me on your first date around our necks or something as a sign of our commitment to each other" you explained quickly, getting excited and unwrapping the bandana you always kept on your arm.

JJ chuckled, watching you scramble to tear thin pieces of the bandana for the both of you.

He didn't want to admit, but he loved you more in that moment than he had ever before. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you, shout from the rooftops that you're his and only his. So how could he ever think to deny you?

"I would love nothing more than to marry you" he whispered, giving you a long kiss before taking the bandana and wrapping it around your neck, you doing the same to him.

The feeling that you had that night was like nothing you had ever experienced.

As you sat with JJ under the starry night, limbs intertwined and hushed promises and kisses exchanged, there was nowhere you would rather be.

In JJ's arms.

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[sunny44]

All these years (Part 3)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend! Reader

Warnings: slap, fights and maybe more things

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

My parents had already left for dinner at the Leclerc house and I was already showered and getting ready to order a pizza when the doorbell rang.

"I can't believe he really came." I said to myself and opened the door and saw Arthur standing there. “You really came here to get me. Seriously?”

"Of course I came, why didn't you came?"

"I don't want to see your brother, I didn't even want to come to the wedding so I wouldn't see your brother." He put his hand on his chest, feigning fake indignation. "I'm sorry but it's true and at the wedding I can still get away from him but there in your house with half a dozen people I can't."

"Y/n, he didn't even come, there was a problem with the plumbing in his apartment and the plumber couldn't fix it until today, so get dressed and let's go because my mother said I wouldn't have a wedding tomorrow if I didn't take you."

"Okay, let me just put some clothes on and fix my face." He agrees and I go to the bedroom.

I put on a simple black dress and sneakers, did a quick make-up just so I wouldn't look so bad and picked up my things.

I went downstairs and left my house accompanied by Arthur. As soon as we entered the house I could hear the laughter of my parents and his parents.

"Look who I brought!" he said, pulling me along.

"My God, you look beautiful." She says and hugs me. "How you've changed."

"Thank you, Mrs. Leclerc."

"It's just Pescale, darling." She smiles and runs her hand through my hair. "I missed you, it's been a while since you came to visit us, how is Milan?"

"I've missed you too and everything's fine, I've been promoted to head of the urban architecture sector."

"That's wonderful, I know how much you wanted that job."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why do you think?"

"That's great my love, I'm happy for you." My dad hugs me.

He always has a way of finding out about situations.

"Sorry I'm late, the plumber managed to get there early." he says as he walks in and stops as soon as he sees me there.

At that moment everything around me seemed to disappear except for him, it was the first time we'd seen each other in years, after all the best and worst moments of my life we were here.

Facing each other again.

"Hi darling, how are you?" My mom goes over to him and hugs him, and he takes his eyes off me.

"Hi Mrs. Y/l/n, I'm fine, how are you?”

"We're fine too." She smiles.

It had been years since I'd seen my mother smile like that, which made me roll my eyes.

"I thought you weren't coming." Lorenzo says, coming over.

"Actually, the problem was much smaller than it seemed and I managed to get the plumber to come early so everything was sorted. Where's Carla?”

"She's with her parents."

"Hi Y/n.”

"Charles."

"Greet him right Y/n."

"Don't push it, Mom."

"Well, shall we have dinner?" his mother says, changing the subject.

…

The only words we exchanged today were that greeting, then we distracted ourselves with other people on different subjects but always keeping a distance from each other.

"I think I'm going now," I said as I got up.

"Why don't you stay a little longer?" His mom asked.

"I really have to go; I haven't slept since I arrived early this morning, and I'm dead tired. I drove from Milan to here."

"Alright then, especially since tomorrow is the big day."

"We're leaving at 8 in the morning to go to the resort, okay?" Lorenzo said before I left.

"Well, in that case, I think it's best for all of us to go to sleep," Arthur got up from the couch.

"I'm going to stay around; I'm too tired to drive."

"Charles, your old room has your brother's things in it, so you can't sleep there."

"He can stay at our place." My mom said.

"Love, I..." my father tried to say it's a bad idea, but she obviously didn't care.

"Let's go, Charles, there's a spare room and no one will bother you there."

"That's great."

"Did you say something, Y/n?"

"I said 'that's great' in a very ironic way in case you didn't understand that as well."

I grabbed my phone and left there; I couldn't take my mother's jabs anymore or even look at him.

I took off my clothes and put on some pajamas, leaving the room to go to the bathroom and as I was about to open the door, Charles was coming out of it.

"Are you still going to use it?"

"Can you be less rude?"

"Are you going to use it or not?"

"No," he said and I went in.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and after going to the bathroom, I returned to the room, only to be faced with that jerk sitting on my bed.

"Excuse me, can you please leave?"

"We need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave because I want to sleep."

"Please, love."

"Don't call me that. In fact, don't call me anything; forget that I exist."

"It's kind of hard to forget you." He looked me up and down with a malicious look, and I slapped him in the face. "What's your problem?"

"You're my problem, and you're a jerk, too." He laughed. "Look, we haven't seen each other in years, so pretend we never even met and leave me alone."

"I just want to apologize."

"And I don't want to hear it. Nothing you have to say changes what you told me years ago."

"I never meant to say those things."

"But you did, and the fact that you said them means that you considered them to be true, even if only for a moment." He fell silent. "You moved on with your life, and I moved on with mine. I don't want to go back to the past."

"I never wanted this to happen between us. You were the love of my life and I ruined everything out of selfishness. You would never have asked me to choose, and I had no right to do the same to you. I should have supported you as a decent boyfriend would, and all I did was say those horrible things to you." He spoke, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I remembered. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry, Charles, but your apologies doesn’t change anything. Your apologies don't change the fact that I feel disgust when I look at you. The anguish I feel in my chest when I see you is still the same, and that won't change."

"I understand, but I owed you an apology even if you don't accept it," I agreed. "Goodnight, Y/n."

He left and I locked the door. Those words were haunting my mind, and I swear if I weren't so tired, I would have stayed up all night thinking about it.

Tag list: @formulas-bitch @nuggetvirgo @lndonrris @cmleitora @janeholt3 @coffeewhore18 @blueflorals @agentadhd @eviethetheatrefreak @honethatty12 @lec-16 @ariamox @boherahpsody @ssararuffoni @leilani13gc @alldaysdreamer @minmira95 @dessxoxsworld @dessxoxsworld @vellicora @meadhbhcavanagh @viramila @lightdragonrayne @444elm0gizm0 @morenofilm @millinorrizz @leclercdream @buendiabebeta @ironmaiden1313 @julesandro @ssararuffoni @sialexia

[shattered-system]

The “Redefinition” of Systempunk

Updated version!

We're not typically an essay kind of blog, but there's something l've been turning over in my mind since l've seen it.

I have the post pulled up now actually, and about 11 hours ago @/the-alarm-system "recoined" (stole) the term systempunk in a long post, as well as designed a flag with its own meaning and I want to sort through some of it.

I also have a few personal pet peeves about their flag design, given that it's color palette clashes and the flag is way too busy. I don't expect it to spread far given that it violates several rules of good design (saying this as someone who has been to school for graphic design.)

I will not post it here, because I don't care to spread it any more than this post already may.

Their flag slightly predates my own version of the systempunk flag, but given that theirs was created for a separate concept with a stolen name, I maintain that we were the first.

We begin with their definition of systempunk.

“A term or Subculture surrounding the liberation of plurals and the critique of psychiatry."

First issue lies here. Both the destigmitization of dissociative disorders and critique of the psych field are extremely important discussions to have!

But they are separate discussions. There is absolutely overlap, but combining the two here is kind of shooting yourself in the foot, because then the conversation in that tag will be disorganized.

Have a systempunk movement AND an anti-psych or psych-critical movement. That way people can easily find the relevant discussions and terms.

This is followed up with a bit about the harm the psychiatric field has caused (not delving into that as that's not what this blog is about) and then circle back onto "the future is plural."

This is not one of the instances where OP means it in the "the future is destigmitization" sense, as they are pro endo. (On a side note, even ignoring the endo use of the phrase-- if I need to read about a slogan to understand the meaning of the slogan, it's a bad slogan. The point of a slogan is to communicate a concept quickly.)

The flag has black and brown stripes akin to the progress flag to represent systems of color, which is the only part of the design we have no critique for, but are describing anyway just as a bit of information.

The purple stripe stands for:

“Endo solidarity... endogenic systems are continuously harmed by antis who remain uncritical of psychiatry."

Once again, we are mixing two expansive concepts into one term.

The term anti-endo doesn't imply a position one way or the other on the psychiatry discussion.

Some anti-endos swear by the DSM5, others don't. Anti-endo is a term that means anti-endo/ endo-critical. That is all it means.

There is a difference between holding the DSM as the complete authority on mental illness and saying that a trauma disorder is caused by trauma.

I'm not sure if OP knows that and is choosing to cast anti-endos in a bad light, or legitimately confused. However, OP is a syscourse blog who is on a lot of blocklists and is spammy in the tags, and has likely been blocked by anyone who isn't also out looking to pick immature fights. (This is a system who made a post in all caps calling for an endo raid on #systempunk.)

Continuing directly from the last quote:

“[Antis] are against the liberation of plurals and deny a plural future in order to push singlethood onto others."

It's possible OP is referring to final fusion, which the anti-endo community is not a monolith on either. Most people we've interacted with are supporters of functional multiplicity (including ourselves.)

Most likely however, they mean that anti-endos "push singlethood" by telling endogenics that they can't have a trauma disorder without trauma.

And I could go into a whole tirade about that, but dozens of systems have done it before and I doubt any pro-endos have gotten this far. I am writing this for the anti-endo and on-the-fence audiences.

Visit @antimisinfo's helpful masterpost for a list of legitimate sources.

OP seems to believe that by “forcing” this singlethood, we are contributing directly to the oppression of systems. Hypocritically, OP themselves are contributing directly to the oppression of trauma victims.

Endogenics are not part of the "diverse experiences of plurality” (we are diverse, but united in origin) given that they don't exist. And if they did, they would have such a fundamentally different experience than trauma-formed systems that both groups would need separate language and tags to have space to themselves.

And endos already have a well-established punk tag for themselves. It seems they won't be happy until they chase trauma victims out of every space they create for themselves and steal every term. They've already stolen even the medical terminology used for CDDs.

The yellow stripe of the flag is meant to represent those with actual CDDs. Once again, psych stuff is brought up. However, I do agree with OP that those who do not want final fusion should not be pushed into it.

The pink and white stripes of the flag are entirely dedicated to anti-psych points. I think this would do wonderfully on it's own flag. But bringing the large range of discussion the anti-psych movement encompasses and the large range of discussion the CDD community has into the same tags is going to make it monumentally difficult to find the conversations you're wanting to have, and weaken both communities considerably.

There is a line of barbed wire across the flag that is partially for the same anti-psych movement as well as in favor of protecting and defending endogenic "identities." The ampersand stands for plurality.

There are fangs on the flag as well, encouraging systems to be loud and proud about their existence. And I agree that systems should make themselves known. However, endogenic systems don't exist, and their promotion will continue to drag us down.

I have read testimonies about traumagenic (real) systems being fakeclaimed or denied treatment by healthcare experts who, through exposure to endos, came to the conclusion CDDs are fake entirely.

Real systems seeking treatment and help after a lifetime of horrific abuse are being denied care.

Not to mention the setback of social acceptance by endos.

“Force plural liberation down the throats of others. Force the future to be plural."

[mittenskittensslay]

Aw, Ik! It sucks! Yeah, I feel like I have the ideas I get really psyched about but...

Going through a burnout

But having LOADS of ideas

Is AWFUL WHY IS IT HAPPENING??

I can't keep track of the ideas i get but i also can't start working on them bc i'm incapable of writing

Everything feels so fucked up now

ANYWAY

[ellabsprincess]

movie date (abbyxreader)

@oatmilkchaii hi hi baby you wanted something filthy so here you go <3 hope you like it!!

this may or may not be inspired by a nsfw audio that has been rotting my brain the entire day, like i need abby to rail me immediately

anywaysss

word count: 1.7k

warnings: smut, fluff, modern au, dom!abby, sub!reader, reader is girly and wears a skirt, abby is kinda rich in this, they fuck in an empty movie theatre, abby has a FAT strap, fingering, cunnilingus, pet names (baby, princess), use of a vibrator, abby is a tease, manhandling

"surprise!" abby lifted her hands that had been covering your eyes to reveal a movie theatre before you. "i rented the whole theatre, so we have the entire place to ourselves" she leaned in and spoke directly in your ear as she finished her sentence, making her intentions clear.

you played innocent, pretending not to hear the seductive tone in her voice. "oh my god abby! this is amazing!"

"and the best part is, we're watching your favorite movie" abby said with a soft smile.

"baby! this is the best date ever!" you threw your arms around her neck in a tight hug, her hands finding your hips. pulling your head from her shoulder, your lips met in a grateful kiss. you loved kissing abby, as her lips always tasted like cherry and she smelled like pine, and combined with the softness of her lips, it was pure heaven every time.

"c'mon, let's get to our seats!"

with her hand on your lower back, she guided you to the back row of the theatre, where popcorn as well as your favorite drinks and candies were already waiting for you.

you giggled as you sat down, ecstatic over the date and the pure thoughtfulness and kindness of your girlfriend. abby loved grand gestures and expensive dates, and she managed to make each one so personal and intimate.

after a few minutes of enjoying the snacks and chatting with abby, the lights dimmed, and your favorite movie began to play on the screen. you had seen this movie dozens of times, but it never seemed to bore you. it wasn't abby's favorite movie necessarily, but she loved it because of how happy it made you and how cute you looked mouthing along to the lines you knew by heart.

as the movie was playing, abby's hand slowly made its way to your thigh, bunching up the skirt material to lay her hand on your bare skin. her fingers that were big yet surprisingly soft began to massage the meat of your thigh, making you shiver. abby noticed the change in your body language, and smirked as she glanced over at you.

as her hand began to inch higher and higher to the place where you needed her most, she leaned in and whispered in your ear. "i brought a vibe and your favorite strap if you wanted to fuck around a bit baby."

"fuck yes please abby," you nearly moaned in response.

"good girl."

reaching into her bag that she always carried with her everywhere (since she could never have her pretty girlfriend worry about carrying anything), she pulled out a small vibe, one you recognized as being remote controlled. it was her favorite to use on you, of course.

leaning over and kissing up your neck, her hand wandered up your skirt and to your panties, which she pulled aside before placing the vibe right on your throbbing clit.

kissing your cheek as she turned to grab her phone, you waited in anticipation. as soon as she opened the app and turned the vibe on, you started letting out quiet moans.

"shh, just focus on the movie baby," she said with a devilish look in her eyes.

she was downright cruel with the vibe settings. one second it would be on the lowest setting, making you want to beg her for more, and the next it would be pulsing at the highest setting, edging you closer to a release. as your moans got louder and you began to grind your hips in search of your impending orgasm, the vibrations stopped.

"no no abby, i was so close!"

"aww baby, you know i only let my pretty girl cum on my mouth or on my cock. that was just to warm you up, you should've known better," abby said with faux pity in her voice.

she gave you a sweet kiss before reaching down and taking the vibrator out of your panties. her fingers swipe through your folds, causing you to whine.

"fuck baby you're soaked, do you think my mouth would make you feel better?"

you nodded quickly, causing abby to chuckle.

"okay, just relax and watch the movie," she said, as she got out of her seat and kneeled before you. your legs spread on instinct, and abby reached up under your skirt to pull your soaked panties down your legs.

the cool air hitting your soaked folds make you squirm, but you were quickly relieved as abby's warm tongue licked a stripe from your hole to your clit.

"oh abby fuck oh my god."

abby's lips found their way around your puffy clit, and she sucked lightly, causing you to buck up into her mouth. her strong hands found your hips, pinning you to the seat beneath you.

"quit squirming and watch your movie, princess."

you obeyed her commands, letting out soft moans and gasps as she sucked and licked your pussy, and finally returning your gaze to the movie. it was difficult to keep your eyes steady, as the way abby's tongue was now fucking in and out of you rapidly was making you want to roll your eyes into your head. as abby was satisfied with your obedience, she rewarded you by removing one hand from your hip to find your dripping hole.

her warm mouth returned to your clit as her fingers circled her pussy before she plunged them in, finding your sweet spot immediately. you could almost no longer hear the movie over the wet squelching of your pussy as abby's fingers fucked in an out of you repeatedly and her tongue flicked over your clit. you were so close, and abby knew, the sounds coming from your pussy were indication enough.

"come on baby, just cum for me, that's it,"

your moans were affecting abby as well, as she felt herself soaking her boxers. what finally sent you over the edge was her moaning on your clit, so overwhelmed from her own arousal and the sweet taste of you. you came with a high-pitched whine, soaking your girlfriend's face.

"that's my good girl," abby said, her mouth leaving you. "god you're so fucking sexy and you taste so fucking good." abby was clearly pussy-drunk as she rose to her feet to capture your lips in a bruising kiss.

she sat back down in her chair, taking a moment to catch her breath and clean off her face and fingers.

after you both had recovered, you rose from your chair to sit yourself over her wide, muscular thighs.

"you said something about packing your strap?"

"yes i did baby," abby said with a coy smile as she grabbed your hand and directed it towards her crotch, where you could feel that she was already wearing her strap.

you helped her unzip her pants, pulling her strap out. just as you were about to sink down, she stops you.

"no baby, i want you to finish your movie. turn around."

shivers flow down your spine as you reposition yourself so your back is to abby in her lap, and you can now see your movie once again.

"good fucking girl. you ready for me?"

"i'm always ready for you, abs"

"that's fucking right," abby praises as she slides her strap through your folds before letting you sink down onto her girthy cock.

the strap is your favorite because its so wide and it reaches you so deep, and god, does abby know how to use it.

she starts off slow, just gently moving your hips up and down, but once she knows you've adjusted, she's an animal. she's fucking up into you so good that your eyes are watering and you can't think about anything except her.

it feels so good, you feel nothing but bliss. she's reaching that beautiful, deep spot inside you, and her pace is almost overwhelming. the way her strong hands manhandle you so easily makes you feel so powerless yet so safe, unable to do anything except take her strap.

abby's pace is making the base of her strap grind against her clit so deliciously, and she's desperate for your as well as her own release. she's needy and almost delirious in your ear.

"so fucking good baby"

"you were made for me princess"

"i love this pretty pussy so much, god you're making me feel so good"

her hips begin to stutter, and you know she's near her orgasm.

"cum for me baby, that's it," she's gasping in your ear as she comes in her pants from the stimulation, and you follow soon after her, gushing on her strap.

you're both out of breath, and you can feel your thighs shaking. slowly, you life yourself off of abby's strap, whining softly at the empty feeling, before turning around to face your girlfriend again. she's got a huge fucking grin plastered on her face from her orgasm and the fact that her pants are now clearly soaked from your orgasm. she sits up and removes her strap and its harness, placing it in her bag, before motioning for you to sit back in her lap.

"i love you so much, princess" she says, peppering light kisses all over your face.

"i love you more baby" you blush, relaxing into her chest.

you just listen to the rest of the movie, having seen it enough times to not care to actually watch the ending. right before the credits roll, you drag yourself up from abby's embrace to make yourself at least somewhat presentable. abby notices your shaky legs and laughs to herself before standing up and helping you put your panties back on and fixing your skirt.

her pants are still clearly soaked, so the both of you make a dash out of the building once the movie is done, hoping no one notices both of your inappropriate states.

finally reaching abby's car, you both get in before bursting out into laughter.

"wow, we need to fuck in public more often," abby says between gasps for air.

"yeah, we really do."

[eddo-tensei]

Fighting to continue the era where online communities are free

I understand that some of you are waiting for me to update some fanfics. However, I've been embroiled in what could only be described as a fight for the internet to stay open. For those who aren't aware, there are various bad bills surrounding the internet that are either in committee or on their way to the Senate Floor. They all share one thing in common: overly broad provisions that could lead to mass censorship of various things online and a complete chilling of free expression, especially if you're part of the LGBTQ+ community or other marginalized groups. I've already spoken about these bills on this blog and the fact there are talks of a possible package being made is continuing this discussion. Thankfully, I'm not alone in this fight. EFF, Fight for The Future, and the ACLU are all fighting against the bills and starting Thursday, will bring out a mass protest. That said, the protest can only get big if you guys come in. That's why I'm making this post.

These are blog posts made by two of the organizations I mentioned. They both hold petitions for you to sign in order to oppose these bills, but the latter site made by Fight For The Future allows you to actually call your lawmakers so you could tell them to oppose these bills. They give you scripts and everything. The deadline given by the organizations is July 28th, which is when the Senate is supposed to go into recess. If we can prevent any of these bills from going through before that, we can consider it a mission accomplished. If you need more info on some of these bills, let me provide you with some Linktrees.

I know it feels like I'm asking a lot from you guys, but I hope you can do what you can and spread this around. We're facing a massive wave of bad news and we've seen a glimpse of what could happen thanks to the DDOS of AO3, but we cannot let ourselves be toppled over by them. We have to push back and ensure a better future for ourselves, the people around us, and the children who deserve to gain a free voice in the future.

[pinehutch]

When I say that I want to be evil

what I mean is I want to be powerful. What I mean is I want to be free.

Some weeks ago I spent more money than I should have on my first ever (ever!) two-piece swimsuit. You have to understand that as a child I was told I was fat, and as a teen I was told I was fat, and as an adult I've always been fat*, and you can't read your way out of the shame caused not strictly by the word but by its connotations.

(I know, because I've tried. I have been trying for almost twenty years. Looking for plus-sized fashion brought me to the digital 'fatosphere.' It made me a better person as I learned about another dimension of intersectionality and about power and oppression. It made me feel like I could wear clothing that I liked. It made me more informed about the diet and wellness industry. It's been over 20 years since I first read a critique of the BMI; it's been almost as long since I started wondering why gros/se in my close-second language didn't have the same (haha) weight to it as fat does, in my first.)

At the tail end of June, days long and scorching, I stepped into a two-piece swimsuit with a deep-v neckline and my whole midsection exposed and I spent the day in full view of dozens (hundreds?) of strangers. Cold, cold water on the joints; warm, soft pools for the evening. My hair got bigger and bigger. My neck and chest sunburned. My midriff stayed comically, blindingly pale, and everything else? It was lovely; it was fine. I rarely thought about my body, unless it was 'this feels nice' or 'my swimsuit is so pretty.' I took a selfie, even, though I deleted it. I was worried that posting it would count as thirst-trapping; shame has cored out and replaced so much of me. It was a good pic, though, and I wish I'd kept it.

What was true of me that day: I was a quite tall, very fat femme person whose feet swell with arthritis and whose hair takes up the entire frame and who's had cellulite since grade eight. What else was true: many people complimented my swimsuit. I looked out across the valleys and the mountains from the top of my almost-six-feet. I let my shoulders roll back and smiled at the sight of my bare skin gone blue-wavering-dappled beneath the surface. I stood tall. I made eye contact. I enjoyed delightful company, and let that enjoyment extend to the simple pleasure of having a body that felt fairly good, in garments I had chosen for the joy of it.

You can't read your way out of shame; it's only part of the equation. I didn't go swimming the next day with my family members, because I didn't want to feel them looking at my body and being disappointed that What A Beautiful Girl turned out like I did (though: if What A Beautiful Girl then why You Need To Watch What You Eat?). But for an entire day I felt like anyone else, gentle enough, good enough, in my skin.

It would have been good for me to swim with my family that weekend, because I'm finding that - as in all things - the practice is important. You can't read your way out of shame, not entirely, but in working with and through it there's maybe a chance to rewrite our stories.

There's a fallacy that I think a lot of us fall into, when we're trying to counter and challenge fatphobia, both culturally and in ourselves. It's the fallacy of the Good Fat. It's why I want to tell you about how two-pieces are maybe a better swimwear choice for me because of the drastic difference between my tits and hips vs my waist. It's why I wanted to post that selfie, so people could shoutycaps and fire emoji me on twitter. It's why I want to craft this post into a narrative where spending a single day mostly-unburdened by body shame has led to a hot girl summer, and I'm walking for miles every day and going to the pool four times a week. (I'm not. I still have a day job, and writing to do, and a physical disability, and the ol' depression. I'm more active than I was three months ago, and working to improve that, but still. It's not a lot.)

It is, simply, the same lie as we tell ourselves along so many different axes of marginalization: that as long as we are exceptional in a way equal and opposite to our marginalization, we'll be fine. It's the model that says you earn the right to exist fat and unashamed by being healthy, by being active, by being hot. Sorry my hip is squished against yours on the airplane; at least I've got a nice face and good hair and am well-dressed, wanna admire my hip-to-waist ratio about it?

There's no such thing as a Good Fat because we live in an inherently fatphobic world. I mean: airplane seats are too small for anyone average sized. I mean: 20 years ago I was a size 16/18 and couldn't fit into the newer lecture hall seats at my university without a lot of stress and embarrassment. I mean: I can't buy a compression sleeve for my arthritic joints at the drug store. If I ever needed to take Plan B, it might not work because I weigh (as do most adults of my acquaintance) more than 165lbs. You cannot be hot enough or active enough or well-dressed enough to escape from this; the only option is to be Not Fat.

But why on earth would we want to accept this? We know the system is fucked up and evil, and so: we want to be evil. Just a little bit, just enough. We want to be hot villains. We want to serve cunt and to be cunts. We want to nailcare emoji, fire emoji, crown emoji, and we want to take no prisoners unless it's between our thick thick thighs. Sit on their face; if they die, they die. It's fun and sexy, in a world where "everything is sex, except sex, which is power" to dig in and grab handfuls of what looks like empowerment, fuck the rest of it, get what makes you feel best.

It's a mirage; freedom doesn't live there.

Because of course fat people are hot. Fat bodies are desirable. Fat bodies are strong, sometimes, and athletic, sometimes, and powerful in whatever way you'd like to read that. That's true no matter what.

And yet (this will hurt) fat bodies are still (I'm sorry, I'm so sorry) not good enough. If the system is the problem, your individual empowerment is not the (whole) solution.

When I say that I want to be evil, what I mean is I want to be free. I want the strange rare days I've known I was desirable because I was desired, specifically and individually. I want the days where I grant myself dignity. I want the day where I lived peacefully in my mostly-naked body around hundreds of strangers, and went to bed happy.

Reading is input, it's taking in. I can't read my way all the way out of fatphobia, out of body shame because that's like trying to put out a forest fire 2000km away by throwing baking soda on your stove element. (Not harmful, but insufficient and misdirected.) It has been so helpful to know that other people wrestle with all of this, in ways that are more intelligent and expert than mine; it doesn't change material reality, though.

It's not the shame that's the problem, but where it comes from. It's not my internalized fatphobia or low self-worth or lack of body confidence that keeps people from life-saving medical care because their doctors were obsessed with their weight instead of their symptoms. My soft abdomen has never shamed a stranger on the internet, my calves (never in tall boots) haven't forced someone to buy a second seat.

Maybe it's time that I redefine what I mean when I say I want to be evil. I want to be a hot villain that was justified in their takedown of the status quo. I want to put a crown on every head. I want these thick thighs under me as I pull you into my lap and love you, and to use those fire emojis to make room for new growth.

I want us all at the pool together, celebrating as the sun sets.

*I'm using "fat" to here mean something like "size 16 US women's or larger," but there's no good definition

[shadowqueenjude]

SJM's zionism as seen in ACOTAR: Fae males were territorial, dominant, arrogant—but the ones in the Spring Court … something had festered in their training.

Haha, what? You were just fine with them before, they revered you and respected you, and now they're suddenly suspicious because they live under Tamlin? It's giving "Ohhhh look at Hamas see see see? All Muslims are terrorists!" And I'm almost certain this is the justification SJM uses for Feyre to genocide the shit out of them in ACOWAR. HyBeRn'S aCtIoNs ArE tHeIr OwN sounds remarkably like Israel using October 7th to justify killing babies, maiming children, and abusing the elderly. They use this same mentality towards CoN citizens too despite Mor coming from there. But notice how Mor is somehow white. “Most of your soldiers are dead.” Eris only blinked. “And the good news?” “Two of them survived.” Nesta studied every minute shift on Eris’s face: rage glimmering in his eyes, displeasure in his pursed lips, annoyance in the fluttering of a muscle in his jaw. As if countless questions were racing through his mind. Eris’s voice remained flat, though. “And who did this?” Cassian grimaced. “Technically, Azriel and I did. Your soldiers were enchanted by Queen Briallyn and Koschei to be mindless killers. They attacked us in the Bog of Oorid, and we were left with no choice but to kill them.” “And yet two survived. How convenient. I assume they received Azriel’s particular brand of interrogation?” Eris’s voice dripped disdain. “We could only manage to contain two,” Cassian said tightly. “Under Briallyn’s influence, they were practically rabid.” “Let’s not lie to ourselves. You only bothered to contain two, by the time your brute bloodlust ebbed away.” Nesta saw red at the words, and Cassian sucked in a breath. “We did what we could. There were two dozen of them.” Eris snorted. “There were certainly more than that, and you could have easily spared more than two. But I don’t know why I’d expect someone like you to have done any better.” “Do you want me to apologize?” Cassian snarled. Nesta’s heart began to pound wildly at the anger darkening his voice, the pain brightening his eyes. He regretted it—he hadn’t liked killing those soldiers. “Did you even try to spare the others, or did you just launch right into a massacre?” Eris seethed. Cassian hesitated. Nesta could have sworn she saw the words land their blow. No, Cassian had not hesitated.

Cassian and Azriel are super duper mega warriors and they didn't even bother to try and save Eris's soldiers despite knowing they're innocent, yet we're expected to take Cassian's side over Eris's. It's giving "Israeli soldiers are traumatized over all the civilians they were 'forced' to kill" DAMN RIGHT YOU SHOULD BE TRAUMATIZED!!!

But Keir must have known, too. And said simply to Rhysand, “I want out. I want space. I want my people to be free of this mountain.” “You have every comfort,” I finally said. “And yet it is not enough?” Keir ignored me as well. As I’m sure he ignored most women in his life. It's giving, "I will colonize your land, I will trap your people in Gaza strip and systematically oppress you, but hey we didn't kill you! Why are you mad??" Also the white feminism in that last line I can't. THERE ARE WOMEN TRAPPED UNDERNEATH THAT MOUNTAIN GETTING ABUSED EVERY DAY!!!! It's the same reason no one cares that Palestinian women don't have clean menstrual supplies and no anesthesia for clean births. Because Palestinians are brown.

So Keir knew about Velaris. The Hewn City knew about Velaris. Before Rhys wiped their memory. This is a lot like Israel occupying Palestine and rewriting history to make it seem like they're the country and Palestine are the occupiers. But they can't delete all the evidence, and now the truth has come out.

[emilykaldwen]

*pinches the bridge of my nose*

Okay kids, sit down. I think things in the fandom space needs a little clarification.

Fan Artists and Fan Fiction writers are frustrated and upset about how the reblog rate has plummeted over the years as the rest of the internet moved to a 'hit the heart to help the algorithm'. Tumblr doesn't work that way. Likes don't do anything for a post, it just locks it in your personal scrapbook.

You Do Not Have to Reblog things YOU do not want to

When people say 'reblog the post' they mean reblog instead of ONLY hitting the like button. Tumblr relies on reblogs to put things on your dash. If you're liking something, then it hits your interests, and you should be reblogging it.

HOWEVER YOU ARE NEVER OBLIGATED TO REBLOG ALL THE THINGS.

Most people, including myself, will reblog from friends because we're friends! I support your foray into a fandom space I have no understanding of, but odds are if you are into it, then some of my other mutuals may be into it so I'll reblog. But I'm not out here reblogging every post I see from people I don't know in fandom spaces I'm not familiar with. It's my blog. I curate what I'd like. Some people have a dozen sideblogs for every fandom niche interest. Some of us just have the one blog and you strap in for whatever fandom chaos we go on. If you tag me in something, I occasionally miss it because I get the notification on my phone but don't have the free moment to do it and forget. Or maybe I add it into my queue.

When you are creating something you need to be mindful of your audience.

I'm in my mid 30s. I do not play in the Disney space (I know Disney Descendents is popular? That came out waaaaay after my time I don't know what it is), I don't know what that girl with the ghost band thing is that was going around a few years ago. I have fellow adult friends who do not engage with fan creation that involves minors. Additionally, I've seen people create OCs for shows like Criminal Minds. Hey! more power to you, I've never watched the show, and I know there's fic out there (I had someone tell me about a what I think was a Harry Potter/Criminal Minds crossover??? wow), but it's not going to get the same kind of traction as say, a Teen Wolf fan work.

I'm not saying don't create for your niche interests! CREATE! BE FREE AND MERRY! but understand that those creations just won't get the same kind of traction because it's a niche interest.

We create for ourselves, we share to find other people who enjoy our hobbies.

Which brings me to my second point:

NO ONE IS KNOCKING ON YOUR BEDROOM DOOR TO MAKE FRIENDS

Making friends is hard! I totally get it. But a sure fire way to turn people off way fast is to start a conversation with me but make it abundantly clear you care about nothing that I say/offer and are just waiting for your turn to talk so you can tell me about YOUR things and expect ME to ask questions. Conversation is a two way street. It's a back and forth. It is not me sitting there like a parent patiently listening to my child tell me about the cool toy adventure they're doing. I'm not your parent. I'm not your captive audience. I'm another person, and if you want friends - MEANINGFUL friends - then you need to make an effort to engage with people.

And it's hard. It's hard because so many people out there are very navel-gazey, and people get so caught up in the excitement of their own creations that they forget to ask other people about theirs. And... you're gonna have to be okay with that. You're gonna have to be okay with it feeling like pulling teeth, and know that hey! you're never gonna be buddy buddies with everyone. You just keep being you, you just keep showing the kind of person you are, and eventually it'll happen.

It's taken me over a decade to form meaningful mature friendships online. I've had friends over the years, ofc, but it's only now, when I can approach something with clear expectations and not thinking everyone is off having fun without me in some little clique, that I've been able to connect with people more honestly. And taking a five year break from tumblr helped a lot with that. I bought a house, I got a new job, I did other meaningful things with my life that wasn't on the internet.

The internet isn't actually a popularity place. You do not have to be popular to exist. I have been on tumblr since the inception pretty much. I have 200 followers and I only interact with 10 of them, maybe 15. And I'll tell you that outta those 200, 90% of them are blogs that haven't updated in years. A follower count does not promise reblogs, does not promise friends. It's literally impossible to be best buddies with 2000 people, to have a meaningful connection with every. single. one.

anyway I'm tired. I'm too old for this shit. Go touch some grass, go get off tumblr and play a new video game, join a book club, read more books, do things that aren't perpetually refreshing your dash and thinking everyone is off having fun without you because I promise you it's not fucking true. You need to have a life offline. You need a hobby that doesn't involve the computer. Seriously. Go touch grass.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.174 Eighty four years

Dub and Maia's wedding was incredibly beautiful, not because of the location or decorations because they had none and did it on a sidewalk. The beauty came from the sentiments shared between them. When he called all frantic about proposing, I told him to tell her what's in his heart because our women love it when we're vulnerable to them. It makes them feel safe. But what he did was so much greater than that. Not only did he speak from the heart but also he revealed his innermost secret, which reminded me so much of myself in my younger days. He admitted to not being as confident, strong, and cool as he purports to be. Admitting to be a fake was such a risky move, but it touched me. That's a phase many men go through, and at some point we have to face the music and be real with ourselves and everyone in our lives. It's the only way to move forward and grow. And for him to do that in his vows on this sacred day? That took guts, and I have so much more respect for him.

After dozens of pictures and selfies, how about this dude offered to babysit so me and Sophia can go out tonight...his wedding night! It turns out that his brother, who was only invited to babysit, met a girl and made plans, so Dub and Maia weren't going to do any celebrating tonight, anyway. Even so, his offer was incredibly kind! I only pushed back a little bit, and it didn't take much to twist my arm. He might be the only friend I have who can volunteer to watch my child and I accept with no questions asked. Sophia didn't hesitate either when I told her about the offer on the way back to the rental. He was right about it being umpteen years since me and my extra special lady went on a date, and I was as giddy as the first time we went out.

As much as we enjoy looking good, our wedding attire wasn't quite our vibe for a date night. We were elegant and looked more like hot mayor and first lady, heh. We're more grown and sexy and I see you looking, so we changed. Sophia went all out, changing her hair and everything, so I ran an errand while I had a chance. Dub told me about a gift shop in the park in the park across the street, and I picked up a few things to sweeten our evening—partial pun intended, heh. Romance was never my thing, but I know women. Some are practical, like Maia. Others are idealists, hopeless romantics...the list goes on and on. Whatever type they are, all of them enjoy being surprised with a gift from time to time. I've never given Sophia a flower bouquet before. That should be just the thing to set the tone for the night.

[carionto]

THUD, thud, thud

related story

The Earth is being held together by duct tape and sheer force of will, in some locations quite literally. Countries-wide rubberized titanium-alloy netting reduces the rate of continental collapse, globe-encompassing pipelines send expelled magma flows from the ever growing number of active volcanoes towards the Pacific Abyss to somewhat reduce the size of the hole and delay the inevitable calamity, and countless local efforts everywhere try and keep the rock beneath our feet from splitting further.

Despite this, Humanity keeps on keeping on with all other matters that have concerned us from the beginning and will continue forever onwards. Games, culture, love, innovation, squabbles, politics, war, and repeating ourselves.

After our ascension into the stars and amongst civilizations much older, some from before our pre-history even began, many were hopeful they would have a solution that could save Earth.

They didn't.

Most sapient races emerged from planets far more stable and comfortable than Earth was before we blew a 200km hole in it, cue all the consequences, so their standards for what a planet worth terraforming in the first place are much more narrow than our own. When we described and showed the current conditions of our homeworld, they were aghast at the fact anything was alive down here, let alone thriving.

To be fair, we were in the middle of a mass extinction event, then things got explodey, which caused another, far faster mass extinction event. Currently there are more archived species in deep cryo storage out in space, about 2.4 million in fact (mainly bugs and flowers), than living on the surface.

Still, there's no place like home, and no doubt there will be millions of people who choose to go down with it rather than leave Earth behind and witness its demise. Still millions more are trying every creative approach to fix things.

Since we're dealing with matters of the tectonic plates and the mantle layer, most serious efforts involve a lot of deep sea endeavors and expeditions into the dozens of literal cracks in the Earth that did not form into volcanoes simply due to the fact they're between several earlier formed ones, so there's just not enough magma flow left over between.

Thus were born the deepest and most insanely dangerous spelunking expeditions - and it's quite safe to say this - in the entire Galaxy. We're probably the only ones stupid enough to go down holes, some of which are well over a hundred kilometers deep, with the intent of closing the hole, or pushing the walls further to close a different, even bigger hole. Some are being filled in, and such efforts would succeed if the Earth weren't missing several quadrillion tons of matter and we had a few thousand years to do it.

The seismic activity of Earth more closely resembles that of a planet only a few hundred million years old. A thousand years ago we dismissed the term "Deathworld". Seven hundred years ago we redefined it. At present, many of us are try to deny it. In less than a century, Earth will fully live up to the term.

---beneath the deepest below---

(some context: 1 2)

The soothing pressure is weakening. The being at the center of anything it chooses, lays dormant still. Its focus, what little it has decided to maintain in its slumber, is on a distant something that should not be beginning to end yet.

Some being is acting out of turn, breaking how things are - for a fraction of a moment, before the Order of Things reasserts itself. Why must there always be a renegade...

Where it slumbers is exerting the faintest of feeling upon it. Another something that should not be. Yet all around there are nothings. Too many nothings. Some precede a further venting of the comforting pressure.

Nothings are still nothings. A something demands the only attention it maintains. Most eyes fully shut, another slightly shut. Should a matter be discovered to be worth awakening for, only then will all the nothings and almost somethings be done away with.

Nothings are a distraction when dealing with somethings in the waking state.

[rontra]

Tell us about they/them lesbian Cinder with text to back it 👀

askfbhs okay but this post is like 2000 words long

statement one: doing a reading of a text, and then using that analysis to draw a particular conclusion for one's own enjoyment, is largely disconnected from the authorial intents that created said text. it's common for a piece of text to be able to be read in many ways, and for those readings to be able to used as supports for a multitude of conclusions. by no means should this post be framed as a comment on what "the canon text Means", because that is fundamentally not what we're trading in. we're not "proving" anything

statement two: cinder's character is complex, deftly written, and can be mined for a lot of meaning, much like all of rwby. there's a lot going on at all times in this show, and many parts remain to some degree an open question since the story hasn't finished yet. you can draw dozens of readings from almost everything in this work. by the same hand, some parts of this post were necessarily abbreviated for time lmao

statement three: cinder's relationship with gender SPECIFICALLY is genuinely textually interesting no matter where you go with it in the end, so if nothing else, at least enjoy Thinking About It... 😌

the core idea here is actually really simple hahaha. we'll take a scenic route though, to affix that idea into a more complete picture. a Pattern if you will

cinder is very strongly characterized by two linked ideas: the fear of being powerless, and the annihilation of the previous self that was powerless. the outward face of cinder's identity is very unstable because of the latter; a lot of conscious effort is expended trying to erase the cinder fall that once existed--the one that was at other people's complete mercy (and received nothing of the sort). cinder is always in "survival mode", trying to achieve some sense of personal safety and to avoid being perceived as weak and vulnerable. that terror and hunger nipping at cinder's heels is what leads into salem's claws--into a new grip of abuse, of course--because salem promises to solve it and give all the power cinder could want and more. yeah?

the most easy-to-track manifestation of those twin drives is, of course, where they intersect with a major piece of rwby's own thematic language: weapons! in rwby's language, weapons are closely tied to their wielder's identity--"They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us!", famously! (v1e2)

(...which also gives us very funny little unrelated nuggets like the eternally faceless and repressed "i was the machine, just following orders" winter having weapons whose names--if they even have any--we don't know. but that's a knowing smile for another day)

cinder was trained by rhodes to wield two swords, an idea that's later combined with archery into what we consider "cinder's weapon", Midnight. in the flashbacks of v3e7, Midnight is in its earliest and most ordinary form. this Midnight is made of normal weapon stuff like metal lmao and cinder uses it very effectively in taking down amber. HOWEVER, as soon as cinder lays hands on half of amber's power, this version of Midnight is thrown aside and destroyed: the pyre that destroys Midnight is used to demonstrate cinder's power and intimidate the Fang. after this—for the duration of the beacon arc—cinder instead uses glass to form a replica of Midnight. this "imitation Midnight" lasts until cinder is maimed by ruby atop beacon tower (and presumably medevac'ed by one of salem's other guys LMAO)

after 1) suffering this defeat, and 2) obtaining the rest of amber's power, cinder flat out stops using Midnight. beyond this point, cinder solely relies on magic to create an ever-changing roster of weapons as needed. with the completion of Autumn's power, so too is the killing of Midnight completed: as far as cinder is concerned, the "self" that was connected to Midnight no longer exists. the part of cinder's story and identity that was in Midnight has been buried and no one will ever know about it again. preferably everyone would just act like none of it ever existed and cinder has Always been powerful (and did NOT just get rent asunder by a teenager! please and thank you!)

the incremental deaths of Midnight really show the crutch that power is to make cinder feel safer and more confident, and the urge to destroy the past/the version of cinder who was not as powerful. once cinder has the maiden power, Midnight is unnecessary. it's also interesting to see that many of these magic-made weapons are visibly fractured, fragile, and expendable, which i'm sure in the Weapon Symbolism Show doesn't mean anything its fine 😭😂

anyway in this new era of relying completely on magic we start to observe another quirky aspect: rather than drawing on personal identity, cinder will frequently imitate other characters who were in some way "powerful" (or at least "impactful"). see: floating array and miló. cinder imitates people who left an impression of strength or skill; in endlessly chasing "power", cinder is nabbing pieces of what makes other people powerful and cobbling them together, to cover the "flaw" (heavy quotes) that is cinder's own identity.

without you, i am nothing.

still, what does cinder keep falling back on, like a habit you can't shake? the original! and when cinder defies salem's orders in v8, what do we finally see again, for just a brief moment? hey, i thought you were dead! for as much as cinder wants to pretend the past is dead and buried, it sure seems to be Haunting us: right there underneath the paint, as soon as cinder stops thinking about copying someone else, or is defiant of salem's control and has to rely on Just Cinder (god forbid!), there it is again.

"okay, that's fine," you might be saying, a few million words into this gigantic post, "but what does any of that have to do with cinder fall's gender". listen to me. this was all setting up very important context for the funniest thing about cinder fall.

like, anyone that's even half-awake while watching rwby will notice the huge differences between how cinder acts and looks in the beacon arc VS how cinder has acted and looked Since Then. beacon arc cinder is smooth and in control and mature and dangerous. and of course, she's feminine. i've seen people outright call this incarnation of cinder a femme fatale! and i guess i can see why; she has mystery, beauty, a little bit of seduction to sway people. she plays manipulative games. and of course, she's dangerous. cinder in the beacon arc is exceedingly threatening because of how good she is at being the underdog; when she has to use cunning instead of brute force and scheme her way uphill in both directions, she kills it! literally!

--hey that was a lot of she/her all of a sudden. hmm. let's talk about women (audience cheers) NO I MEAN. evil women (audience cheers louder)

cinder's life is strongly marked by two women in particular: the madame and salem. both of them exert an immense amount of power over cinder; when we talk about situations where cinder has been powerless, these two people are the ones that spring to mind. in cinder's world, which is very coldly divided into people who Have Power and people who Do Not Have Power, both madame and salem very much Have Power. they have maybe the Most Power It's Possible To Have, by cinder's math. this also makes them Very Important figures for our examination, because what they are will reflect back onto cinder's malleable self.

madame and salem are both feminine, both older, both powerful; examine these two and suddenly you start seeing the pieces being stolen. the mature shade of red the madame wears. salem's levelheaded control paired with her distance and mystique—(trying not to say "and her cleavage")... v8e6 even places explicit focus on the sound of the madame's high heels as a herald of incoming danger.

their bearing, their ways of navigating the world, the way they dress. their… oh my god… their gender presentation!!!

the thing about cinder fall is that the mimicry of power does not stop at weapons. this is a Pattern that extends BEYOND merely "doing the floating array trick". the entirety of beacon arc cinder, including gender presentation, is mimicry. because in cinder's mind at this point, the most powerful thing a person can be is a mysterious older femme.

to cinder, ideas traditionally associated with femininity, specifically the femininity of adult women, are explicit markers of power and threat; and these things can be picked up and worn and imitated. these things can be performed. but there's never a sense that cinder owns these things or is particularly attached to them (i mean, beyond cinder's conception of Power). furthermore, cinder doesn't fully understand how these two women operate, and (being far younger) lacks the experience to fully embody them.

(--the way cinder handles emerald in particular is very revealing of this disconnect, as the dynamic shown as early as v2 is a clear attempt to wrangle her the way salem does her own minions; but cinder fails to understand and execute the crucial part, which is tapping into what emerald actually wants. because cinder, living in their own "survival mode" priority list, can't understand or relate to what emerald wants from them. the attempts made to replicate salem's affectations only push emerald away and strain her loyalty.)

but goddamn if cinder doesn't think power is stored in the gender!

it's interesting, then, that after the beacon arc blows up and a huge L is handed to Femme Cinder, they gradually drift further and further away from this; the illusion has broken. in lockstep with their drift from salem—cinder's exile, then intentionally testing the ice to see how far salem will let them stray—the further they go, the more they assert themselves, the further they also stray away from those "markers of power" associated with salem and madame. in the era of the blink-and-youll-miss-it flash of cinder's own identity, of Midnight, we also witness the ever-increasing straying from the performance of femininity that the beacon arc cinder clung to. huh!

so, let's see, we have a very intentional and consistent streak of cinder attempting to annihilate their own identity and replace it with something else (something strong) (something no one can hurt); this theme is visible both in their armory and wardrobe. cinder is terrified of who they'll be without these masks, because that person has been victimized, betrayed, and abused by every person who had power over them. the solution cinder has in their mind is to Become So Powerful that no one can do that to them ever again, no matter what they have to do or sacrifice to get there. and a lot of that conflict is slathered in this layer of Gender Stuff! this is INTERESTING!!!! no matter what people take from this post i at least hope you can find this aspect interesting, especially if you hadn't really thought about cinder's mimicry before...

anyway the very Gendered tension in their character comes bearing down twice as hard when considering that madame verbally invokes ideas about "being ladylike" while she's abusing them, reinforcing this mental link between Being Ladylike = Having Power, Not Being Ladylike = Not Having Power (= being crushed under the (high) heel of those that Do). cinder's femininity is ungenuine at best and coerced at worst; in my opinion, that much has been gestured at pretty overtly

from here, you can draw whatever conclusions from it that you please; e.g. would cinder LIKE to claim femininity for themselves in a genuine way, or would they not? do they feel attached to it, or not? in the Midnight glimmers of cinder's own real human self—the one they try so desperately at every turn to kill and bury, by directly coöpting pieces of other people they think are powerful—what do you see there? that's a conclusion for you to draw, of course…

you've no doubt twigged by the pronoun heehoos happening in this post that i'm quite fond of they/them cinder lol. i like my non biney lesbian struggler (the lesbian part Specifically i don't have a whole post locked and loaded for, that's just because im a lesbian and i like it<3). i rotate the disconnect between cinder and their identity and their performance in my mind and go "huh! your gender is Lesbian. congrats sweet prince" well anyway i think salem shoulda been cool FOR ONCE and offered to give them top surgery when she was gluing them back together after beaconSJHBHBNSDHB

of course, there's a myriad of ways to take this and make it serve whatever gender and pronouns headcanons you like, so i'm not saying it definitely means exactly what i personally like. like i said at the start, i'm not interested in "proving" anything or whatever. i'm just observing that it's interesting, and then im applying it to beef up headcanons i personally like... so you do as you will, too 😌

but to me, no matter what final conclusion is drawn, gender is a performance and cinder fall is trapped on the stage! goodluck up there!