#what is this phenomena?

[renytherat]

im also being so critical of any fanfiction i read rn and i feel so bad. like if its obvious that english might not be their first language, thats usually so okay with with me. but if it is and its written badly i fucking hate it. and thats horrible of me. i should be either giving nice constructive criticism (if theyve asked for it!!!) or just turn away bc this is not for me! instead i want to tear my eyes out and never read fanfiction again.

[crtastrophe]

Kidpix commission for @facelessoldgargoyle! (character belongs to me)

[ganondoodle]

sometimes i wish i was one of those artist that make people go "this is a PAINTING???" or "with WHAT programm/medium???" but its just not what i can do or find fun :/

[quiet-admirer]

Can I say something so controversial yet so brave for a second? As an impartial observer for the past 13 years... I've seen small gainers lament the lack of attention they get compared to bigger gainers, middle-size fat gainers say they get no attention compared to people with starter bellies or who are much bigger than them, and supersize gainers say that they don't get attention anymore and feel like they got too fat for the fat fetish community to care about them and I am starting to suspect nobody here actually gets attention

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Saw a post years ago that pointed out that all the black characters they saw that were represented without racist caricatures were done with white hair (with few exceptions)

And they went on to say that there are too many brown/brown/otherwise POC characters like that (especially women) like Kida from Atlantis

And since reading that, every time I see a fire, badass, beautiful POC characters with white hair, all I can think about is that post

Like Kalim Al Asim from TWST or Kida from Atlantis, Storm from X-Men and Mirko from BNHA. Hell, even Asra from Arcana or Ekko from Arcane/League of Legends

And there are countless more that I've seen done in a similar fashion, too

All of these characters are awesome, beautiful, badass representations that are extremely well done!

But they're all done with white hair. It makes me, as a white person, wonder if artists do this simply because the white balances out beautifully against brown skin

Or the more likely answer, where perhaps they do it as a way to make them 'desirable' brown characters. It feels odd and off (even though I love seeing BIPOC with all sorts of cool hair colours, it's the way it's done that makes me feel strange about it bc it happens so often)

Like,,, let them have darker skin AND darker hair.

Hell, let black characters have darker hair, darker skin, AND ETHNIC HAIR. Give them locs, or braids, or actual coils, or textured hair of any kind. Give them bantu knots, twists, etc.

You can draw all these crazy clothes and spiky hairstyles, but not ethnic hair?

Bullshit.

(edit before anyone sees this: would love LOVE comments/reblogs detailing anyone else's thoughts, especially if you're BIPOC!! as a white person, I'd really like to see your opinions on this frequently-used 'stereotype' in media. I would like to know, too, if my feeling uncomfy with the stereotype portrayed is just me not having any BIPOC experience to personally draw off of or if it's something others feel and notice too.)

[valrayne-faeu]

Within the Winter Court, I feel like the aurora closest to the Autumn Court would be Aurora Borealis (greens and blues mainly) but the aurora closest to the Spring Court would be Aurora Australis (pinks and purples with small splashes of green every now and then). I feel like people either don't know and/or forget about Aurora Australis when it’s just as beautiful as Aurora Borealis... TT^TT

the Winter Court isn’t big enough for there to be a delineation between it being australis or borealis, it’s just the aurora. Winter has aurora in all the colours, it just cycles through them, some (like blue) being rarer than others. even on Earth, both regions get all the possible aurora colours, just in slightly different frequencies depending on various factors lsdkjflksl

[mumblelard]

the neodymium microcosmos or the anticipation of received forms

last week was the seventeenth anniversary of my first post in this place and after three thousand one hundred thirty-seven posts, i am pretty sure i'm still not doing it right

my kids and my girlfriend came over friday night and we drank pink lemonade tequila spritzers and ate pizza and shared this week's stories. it was a really nice night

yesterday, a cover of thirteen by big star came on the radio, and i was barely able to explain to cassidy how that song always makes me cry just before i lost my voice

last night i dreamt of quitting, i dreamt of a magazine cover with red stars on a blue field and no words, and i dreamt again of walls filled with pastel fauna absent menace or comfort

today, i am spending the day with finn and fall and they have surprises in store!

this week spans bloomsday, the solstice, the full moon, and midsummer

i'm spending next weekend in the mountains up near the gorge and my anticipation grows

[straight-to-the-pain]

I don't know if anyone else in the whump community has read 'A Constellation of Vital Phenomena' by Anthony Marra but it is genuinely a really good book and also has some of the best depictions of torture and its aftermath that I have read in fiction.

I wanted to share some of my favourite quotes, hopefully without too many spoilers as it is out of context, but maybe skip this post if you don't want to know anything at all going in.

To give a brief summary, the book centres around the lives of people in Chechnya during the first and second war between the Russian government (Feds) and the separatist rebels. The main story focuses on a man (Akhmed) who is trying to save his neighbour's daughter from being killed by the Feds after her father is taken away in the middle of the night. He does this by taking her to a hospital where he then volunteers. One of the people in his village (Ramzan) becomes an informer for the Feds after being tortured, and this is explored in the excerpts below.

‘Information the Feds would torture them for was written here on the walls for all to see. It was well understood among the men that the Feds had as much sense as two bricks smashed together. It was also understood that pain, rather than information, was the true purpose of interrogation.'

'During his first detention in the landfill, in 1995, in the first war, he had refused to inform. They had wrestled down his trousers, shown him the bolt cutters, and still he had said no. Screaming, thrashing, with his manhood half severed, he had said no. He had done that, and now he was ready to start saying yes.'

'He would have confessed everything, but they didn't ask, weren't interested, threatened to cut out his tongue and put pliers to his teeth if he spoke one more fucking word. Electric wires were wound around his fingers. A car battery was drained into his bones. God might have been watching, but it wasn't God's finger on the battery switch. The interrogating officers didn't speak. Instead he was an instrument they played, performing a duet, and in their own way they conversed through his sobs. They both wore very shiny shoes. That was all he would remember.'

'He had trouble walking, He had forgotten torture could be so exhausting. The new interrogator, the one with less shiny shoes, held him upright, using his whole body as a crutch, and helped him walk. He carefully wiped Ramzan's forehead with a handkerchief before opening the door to the next room.'

'The interrogator with less shiny shoes crouched behind him. His hands were wet. Ramzan promised everything, and the interrogator, like the parent of a child too old to believe in ghosts, watched him with disappointment, his clear eyes saddened by Ramzan's sincerity. The interrogator took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, laid the live wires on Ramzan's chest and mapped the border of their shared humanity. Ramzan offered his soul. He begged to be enslaved. The known universe contracted to the limits of the cement floor, and on it, the interrogator was both man and deity, prophet and god. By ten o'clock the interrogator with less shiny shoes asked his first question. By eleven the electrical wires were unwound from Ramzan's fingers. By noon he was allowed to dress. By one he was on the FSB payroll. He kept thanking the interrogator with less shiny shoes.'

‘Greed didn’t motivate his informing, at least not primarily; primarily he informed by necessity, to survive, for his love and hate and above all awe of the power wielded by the interrogating officer with less shiny shoes.'

'That was his greatest fear. Could he stay silent? Could he withstand what awaited him? He told himself that his love for the girl should fortify him against any torture, but this, like so much of what he told himself, was a lie. After all, he was squeamish at the sight of blood, what would he say when lying in a puddle of his own? But he saw no other way. He would pray for the strength to stay silent, for a quick heart attack, and leave the rest to God.' (This is Akhmed POV)

'When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing, Akhmed. When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing. When they threatened to electrocute me, I said nothing. When they threatened to castrate me, I said nothing. I said nothing, Akhmed. Whatever you think of me, you remember that once I said nothing when a wiser man would have sung. And the interrogators, they couldn't believe it. They called in others to examine me. I was there on the floor, and above their faces were dark ovals silhouetted by the ceiling lights. They had beaten me hard and I couldn't hear right, but I kept saying no, with every breath I had. The main reason they let me go, the only reason they didn't shoot me right there was out of perverse respect, some sort of professional courtesy. But I wish they had shot me, Akhmed, because the good part of me died there, and all this, everything since, has been an afterlife I'm trying to escape.'

‘I knew what was coming. I knew it never stops. They put a shame inside you that goes on like a bridge with no end, the humiliation, the fucking humiliation of knowing that you are not a human being but a bundle of screaming nerve endings, that the torture goes on even when the physical hurt quietens. People treated me differently when I came back the first time.'

[envolvenuances]

This one gives a general summary of the importance of women in the fight for the idependence of Mozambique

And for a more present context

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

ppl forget that dream threw a hissy fit about a Mexican man stopping hanging out with him after he bought a trump flag as a “joke” spend over a week posting about how much he wanted to beat him up and liking art of them as real life people making out and then blamed his doxxing (which is obviously horrifying and wrong but that shit was going around since 2019 quackity didn’t even know he Existed when it started) on Quackity muting his ass bc he treated racism against him as a big joke, made comments about wanting to be violent towards him, and pushed romantic fanart after they’d stopped even being friends. like bro Quackity wasn’t reading your messages because he, quite rightly, assumed you were going to be an asshole to him bc you were talking about wanting to fight him in public and making up this whole feud bc you were pissy he didn’t quietly accept the YEARS of casual racism towards him from the dteam any longer like. it’s such blatant obvious racism dream was weaponising white tears bc his friends stopped hanging around his ass bc of his constant fucking casual bigotry. like his ass is not progressive people just apparently don’t recognise basic fucking white supremacy anymore. like. what the fuck.

[cyberianpunks]

when the 10,000 things have been extinguished, there is still something which has not been extinguished

[lucky-slice]

The thing about Kevin and Thea for me is that the relationship is probably the first thing in Kevin's life that he got to actively chose. Like Thea didn't have any connections to the Moriyama's besides being a raven. She didn't have any stake in the game. There were no expectations that he had to be anything he was not. Thea was just a slightly older teammate who was just as passionate about exy as he was, and who bothered to look at him long enough to see past the son-of-exy of it all.

There's something so inherently innocent about Kevin falling for his senior and seeking out a relationship with someone that didn't expect anything from him in return.

That's all. I just think maybe he deserves it.

[monpalace]

time and warriors. reader is significantly taller than the chain (they are at hip height). no pronouns used (you/your). non-graphic mentions of blood. can be read as romantic or platonic. time and warriors teasing reader. 700 words.

The hiss that echos through the streets is more than enough to pull the Links away from the shopkeep's wares to where you stood just outside the small building.

The Link who had kept your attention off the doorframe and on him, Warriors, was quick to pull you down to his height by the elbow and sit you down.

"I called door, didn't I?" He lets out a quiet huff while gently coaxing your hand away from the flowering bruise across the bridge of your nose. The frown on his face deepens upon seeing a trail of blood already falling down your lips and to your chin. "You didn't hear me?"

"In my defense," you swallow, voice already taking on a nasally tone. Your eyes were screwed closed, doing your best to ignore that pain by focusing on his voice. "You were late and didn't bother making it any clearer."

Even if you couldn't see him, you could imagine the way he rose his brow. "Oh really?"

You hum to the best of your ability, flinching away when the vibrations of it shift your nose too much for your liking. "Really," you sigh back, lips pulling back into a sneer when Warriors taps your nose as though a ghost. "Your— stop— story about the barracks was too engaging for my own good."

He laughs, pulling his hands away when feather-light footsteps approach. Based on the way they were accompanied by the purposeful shifting of armor, you know it's Time with a red potion already in hand.

Warriors steps around so he's instead at your side. His hands reach out so they're just shy of your biceps. "It's nothing too bad," he relays, voice airy as he reaches a hand up to your shoulder blades, nudging you forward so Time could better reach you. "I've seen children with worse injuries."

Time sucks his tongue. "Again?"

"Not again," you scoff, flinching again when the vibrations reaches your nose again. Time is quick to grab your chin and tilt your head back, pressing the mouth of the bottle to your lip. "The roof is too tall. All the others have been stomach-height."

"You're a giant!" Warriors' hand pats your arm comfortingly. He wipes away droplets of blood and water with his glove, grinning while rising to his toes. "You're as tall— if not taller— than the Gerudo! You can't blame the constructors for not taking that into account."

You lower your head when Time releases your chin, eyes slowly prying open when the pain starts to subside. He waits for the bruise to fade into your natural skin tone before reaching a hand around the back of your neck to pull you closer.

"Go easy now," he chides, failing to hide to teasing lilt in his voice. His voice lowers into a murmur the closer the less distance there is between the two of you. "Surely it's no easy labor having to be in a world made for dwarves."

Time presses a kiss to your forehead to hide his chuckle, pulling away and running his tongue over his when the foreign word leaves a strange feeling in his mouth.

Lifting your hand and nudging Time away with a finger, Warriors is quick to take it into with both of his and press several more to each of your finger tips. "It makes me wonder what all else if different where you're from. Do kisses make you feel any better?"

You're quick to swat him away, forcing yourself onto your feet while ducking. "I'm going to find the others. I'm sure the others would find my pain less amusing than you both."

Time lets out a quiet hum, hand raising to tap against your thigh as you pass him. "Have Legend or Hyrule take a look." He tucks a small pouch full of rupees into the lace of your shoe before it leaves his range. "Our apologies," he adds.

It takes you a moment to realize what he had done, to focused on not hitting your head on the doorframe again. When you're finally clear, you take the bag from your shoe and feel the rupees between your fingers.

"Apology accepted, I suppose."

[worgengel]

you let them in, didn’t you?

[orange-orchard-system]

Kinda funny to me when people complain about others using "dissociate" to describe zoning out or daydreaming. Like no they're actually using that one correctly. That is in fact a form of dissociation, just a very mild and everyday one. You don't have to get annoyed at this one that is in fact a correct usage of the term. There are many words for specific psychological phenomena, disorders, etc. that people are misusing but this is not one of those cases. This one is fine

[pepperpixel]

Some new art of a very very old oc of mine! From like, when I was an 8th grader in middle school to freshman in high school I think, I haven’t thought about this character or the world she’s from in like… years, but my brain suddenly remembered she existed! And so I drew some art of her!

Visually, she’s absolutely mostly the result of my child self sticking Toko Fukawa from Danganronpa and Peacock from Skullgirls in a blender and lettin it fuckin rip. Personality wise she’s a bit different tho… she’s into politics! As in,,, she’s in politics ghgh, she’s like the chief of the surveillance department for the country of (mostly) witches that the story takes place in. And one of the advisors to the head ruler witch,,, she sucks! Hardcore! she’s def a villain lol