#yes i am all of these labels. no that is not all. i AM only out at 2/7ths of what i am.

[lillotte17]

I am apparently back on my Art History Bullshit in re: DATV, because we're walking around Arlathan and we found a pair of the golden Fen'Harel's Mourning statues and Rook and Co. make a quip about how Solas must be responsible for them being there which is just...

1) He would not do that. Paint himself in various stages of grief and/or as a way of expressing/preserving events as he experienced them? Yes. Sure. Insist that people erect golden statues of him everywhere? No. Absolutely not. He was trying to get people to NOT label him as a god.

2) Arlathan continued to exist after the creation of the Veil!! It caused massive devastation and it weakened the elves as a whole, but even so, the empire did not collapse in on itself overnight. That means that the people who lived through the end of the reign of the Evanuris, and knew first hand what both they and Solas had done (or at least as much as they could glean through propaganda) either chose to leave the statues of Fen'Harel standing after he raised the Veil OR they ADDED the statues after the Veil?

Both options seem strange. It's possible that even after the destruction wrought by the Veil, enough of the elves were grateful to be free from the Evanuris that they elevated Solas to godhood and complete veneration. At least for a while. And then when Tevinter invaded and elvhen culture was scattered and destroyed, they became bitter towards him again and blamed him for their losses. It feels like a stretch though. Those statues are EVERYWHERE.

Elgar'nan is also petty af. He burned the memories of certain feelings from the minds of every living being. He erased the name of 'The Healer' from every record and mural in the Empire. (which I low-key suspect was Solas, but who knows). There is no way he would allow Fen'Harel statues -GOLDEN Fen'Harel statues!!- to practically line the streets of Arlathan. Why would he want to see the Guy His Wife Still Thinks About on every street corner??

It's in DAI, too. He's got statues in the Dirthamen Temple. He's got ENORMOUS ones in the Exalted Plains. He's paired frequently with not only Mythal, but with Ghilan'nain's halla/hart, and Andruil's owl. There are probably more wolf statues than any other symbols to an elvhen god, with the possible exception of Mythal.

By contrast, Elgar'nan...doesn't really have a symbol that we see anywhere repeatedly? Which is so strange. If he's the "real" head of the pantheon, and he was the most powerful of all the Evanuris...where is he? If he needs the love and adoration of everyone in his empire, why isn't his face plastered all over everything?

It just...doesn't make a lot of sense. I get there being a million Fen'Harel statues in Mythal's temple. And even in the Deep Roads during Trespasser because like...who cares that's just an old mine built from a defeated enemy. But like...1/3 of the statues in Arlathan are Fen'Harel?? What??

[former-leftist-jew]

I appreciate you reblogging my post, but I am perplexed as it says in your description that you are a Zionist, which is pretty ironic considering how I am quite the opposite on this issue.

You then proceed to mention the "Goyische Left"

A. Isn't 'Goyische' (moreso "Goyim") considered a Jewish slur for anyone considered to be a gentile? Isn't it a little bit prejudiced to use that sort of terminology? It would be wrong of a person to use the term "kike" when referring to Jews, so I personally think it goes the other way around too.

B. The "Left" as well as the "Right" aren't really a thing but social and political constructs people use to label a vague group of people and ideals, when it's more complicated than that & it's the reason I reject most politics in general besides Palestinians.

Yes, goyische" and "goyim" is a slur /sarcasm

Just like how "cis" and "cisgender" is a slur against non-trans people used by trans people and allies.

Just like how "gadjo" or "gadji" is a slur against non-Romani people hurled at them by Romani people.

Just like how "qallunaat" is a slur against non-Inuit people used by Inuit people.

Just like how "gringo" or "gringa" is a slur used by Spanish and Portuguese people to describe English-speaking Anglo Americans.

Whenever a small minority group has a word to describe general people outside that group (especially when it's a small, insular, minority group), it's automatically a slur, right?

--

The "Left" as well as the "Right" aren't really a thing but social and political constructs people use to label a vague group of people and ideals, when it's more complicated than that & it's the reason I reject most politics in general besides Palestinians.

Hate to break it to you, but "Palestinian" is just as much of a "social and political construct people use to label a vague group of people and ideas" just as much as "Left" and "Right," and you just fell for the party line.

Mosab Hassan Youself, son of one of Hamas' co-founders and a former Hamas operative himself, has talked extensively about the history of the Palestinian region for the last 100 years, and how the Arab Muslims political landscape has changed.

-

During the Peel Commission testimony in 1937, Arab leader Auni Bey Abdul-Hadi said, “There is no such country [as Palestine]! Palestine is a term the Zionists invented! There is no Palestine in the Bible. Our country is part of Syria.”

In that same testimony, Auni Bey Abdul-Hadi said, “The Arabs do not admit the existence of the Jews as Zionists at all... we utterly refuse to meet at the same table with any persons who call themselves Zionist Jews.”

What changed?A PR-shift in the 1960's.

Zahir Muhsein, PLO leader at the time, said in an interview with Trouw Magazine, 31. March 1977:

"The Palestinian people do not exist. The creation of a Palestinian state is only a means for continuing our struggle against the state of Israel for our Arab unity. In reality today there is no difference between Jordanians, Palestinians, Syrians and Lebanese. Only for political and tactical reasons do we speak today about the existence of a Palestinian people, since Arab national interests demand that we posit the existence of a distinct "Palestinian people" to oppose Zionism. Yes, the existence of a separate Palestinian identity exists only for tactical reasons!"

There, straight from the horse's mouth.

And what is "Arab unity," you may ask? It's basically Pan-Arab nationalism

And this sentiment was held long before the state of Israel, since Arabs also massacred pious Jews who'd been living in Hebron for centuries in the name of Arab superiority--er, unity.

Honestly, I could go on and on.

That's not getting into how "Palestine" itself is a colonialist term. After the Roman Empire annexed Judea and expelled most Jews, they renamed the region "Syria Palestinia," after the Jews' historic enemies (and largely gone), the Philistines.

And that's before getting into the Arab Muslims' conquest of the Middle East, North Africa, and Central Asia in the 7th and 8th centuries, after Romans and Byzantines battered themselves into a stalemate and

I'll never not be floored by the irony of Arab Colonizers using the term "Palestine"

Granted, it's also really hard to look all this up in good faith, since lots of pro-Palestinians have essentially hijacked the internet and flood it with pro-Palestine propaganda, which has been working tirelessly to infiltrate every aspect of Western life for decades.

[wholahoop]

10 people I want to get to know better

I was tagged by the lovely @arminaa8 ❤️

Last song: I don't listen to a lot of music - I'm more of a Radio 4 kind of girl (for non-Brits, it's kind of talk radio, but with a lot of politics, culture and audio dramas). Maybe the soundtrack of Honkai Star Rail as I'm playing counts? 😂

Favorite color: bright pink, but with turquoise a close second. I love bright colours! I am, in theme, a tiny bit Barbie/Elle Woods, if they were lazier and less designer label, haha.

Last movie: Rewatched Jurassic World Dominion because I couldn't remember if I'd seen it before (I had: it was just very forgettable, boo).

Last TV show: Tried the first episode of The Good Ship Murder last night - with a cop turned cruise ship singer as a sleuth. I love a cosy mystery series!

Sweet/spicy/savory: Can I have all of them??? I love savoury most, though - please give me curry, or all the cheese. It's always tragic to go to a restaurant and be offered a cheese course but have no room to fit it in 😭

Relationship status: Very happily married 😍

Last thing I googled: One Hundred Stars - considering buying these palazzo pants (yes, confusingly we do sometimes refer to trousers as pants)

Current obsession: Trying to stay warm when it's fucking freezing at the moment...? Trying to be cheerful on the bluest of blue Mondays?

Looking forward to: Eating dinner, booking some mini holidays, the weather warming up, reading some of my enormous #tbr pile, dipping into some of the awesome looking drarry fics the lovely @sweet-s0rr0w and @sitp-recs came up with for me, going to bed because I'm tired and it's only Monday.

Tagging @sweet-s0rr0w, @sitp-recs, @dewitty1, @lqtraintracks, @magpiefngrl, @faiell, @parkkate, @saintgarbanzo, @yiiiiiiiikes25, @a-bichol and anyone else who wants to play - I want to tag you all, but that would be insane 😂

[lotusrootdesignerpants]

I’m up at five to get the train two hours from the city. She drives me out to a lake, the quarry kind, and says time to hitch a ride. Sheepish. Are you crazy. Hitch or walk twenty-four kays. First are partner visa sweethearts having trance vibes, she an English rose, he Moroccan from Lake Como dripping sacred geometry bracelets. In town we get sunstroke, get to noon, uncollected, unloved, in fudge shop dairy cow kitschtopia, till she flags down a big old beast whose backseat turns out to be full of slobbering dog and detritus, like, hoarder car, and she blabs our full hike itinerary and places of residence while I clench my legs in the junked up filthy cluttered but dogless front seat and obfuscate her disclosures. Gritted teeth, girl squeeze my hand if you are capable of strangling him from behind… and then he lets us out and I’m scampering around tripping over my reprimands. We get in behind rainforest waterfalls all day and eat whole mangoes and cliff-jump and stand right in the falls being pummelled. Pools stacked on pools and pools and pools all bridged by falls. Stairway to heaven. Wiry little albinos fearless getting feet in crevices hopping right round us and leaping off. Twelve k in our bikinis. We have surgically unpicked ourselves from our lineage and then every member of that lineage, in receding order, from their forebear. I’ve had the thought: I am game to talk forever. I never want to need to break or go to sleep or anything. But then lapse and like, la petite silent mort of the ego, infinite regress of selves watching selves. Normal. And all this week I’ve been swimming circles around the teatree watering hole, running barefoot on the empty beach at dawn, getting lost in the forest, swimming in rips in storms, walking on the empty beach in storms, clearing the backlog of mental sediment until thought is distilled to a single monologue and then once the thesis is set down to a dialogue. An internal forum of supreme health. Next waterfall sweeps us 500m back. Deep qld afternoon blue, cornflower now with no canopy. Every few minutes of nothing: a deafening eruption of cicadas. Then nothing. We access a fearful memory, she comes with me into my fear, it’s educational, she wants to teach me how to feel, but I access it via thoughts: “I am suffocated. My autonomy is taken.” I am ideal for death row. I’ll grieve my own life with a series of cue cards, with ticker tape. I am switching over the cards or I am in the newsroom typing. Now breathwork. I get to like, almost feeling something. Gold star! Her stupidest student. Then I feel cold. I’m still in a whirlpool, flattened against a rock, hands clenched, air suddenly dark, a black-green. The shivering implodes into a feeling I’ve only ever had during sex. Quivering annihilation. Paralysis. I am laying back, in the memory, with my teen self in the bedroom, assuming the very posture. Cicada crescendo. My lip quivers, I mean pulses, as I flee. Need sun and rock. The kind paternal bone of the world. I’ve animorphed to snake. Stretch and roll. (Now I am on mushrooms on a clifftop in Herzegovina at sunset, another heatwave day, the hazy Ottoman warmth throbbing up through my spine.) She looks at me as I’m standing weakly up from chaturanga and struggling back against the current. This is the first day of my life. What’s the bright world. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where I’ve been, but I. Know where I want to go. Oyster-blue milk starred by pondskaters spiking red into the blue opacity. Angles of the RGB light. Fern crosshatching. Yes, swear I’ll remember it… how ridiculous… I cannot forget what I have seen so clearly. It will be safekept somewhere. Because I have worded it. I made those descriptions in real time, I confess, oyster-blue, it’s true because I peeled the label straight off the world. I encountered it, FOR THE FIRST TIME, as plain text, emotional domain bypassed.

Back in rainforest (and unsteady still and amorphous and dusk coming) I am in floods of logorrhoea. Talking really earnestly about memory, knowing my handwriting when I write will be the huge rambling cobwebs that follow the use of certain drugs. Loosethumbed. I’m like, yes, yes, you’re good, you’re amazing, I’m okay. I’m just gonna do this more and more forever and why would I not? And yes community, yes intimacy, yes we must all live together and feel each other’s wounds, it’s impassioned leftist sentiment… and she’s affirming something too.

[brainrotcharacters]

The silly thing about associating Deadpool and Wolverine with Patroclus and Achilles is that if the Greek gays had regeneration and nigh-immortality, they wouldn't have reached peak tragedy

[luckyemo]

ok i do really hate the danganronpa fanon category of "antagonists" (ie. komaeda, togami, + ouma as a group). in part because its just the wrong term for these characters and it can be confusing whos being referred to, like i saw a post saying like 'danganronpa is wild the antag will tell the protag they want them carnally and just move on no explanation' and i was like ???????????? when does junko say that to naegi?????? tsumugi said something like that????? kamukura????????????????

and my bigger issue with it, is its really hard to not see this as like a direct symptom of people ignoring women characters and over-valuing male characters. i know this accusation gets brought up a lot in fandom spaces, and then it just becomes a circular argument of misogynistic writing leads to fans favouring male characters which reinforces the demand for male focused stories etc etc or ppl being like 'im gay of course im going to have a preference for male/male stuff over things with women', but it really really does feel like women get completely pushed to the side to center two men. using the dr1 characters as an example, its not even like how kirigiri and fukawa are "pushed to the side" as romantic interests so togami and naegi can be together, its over crediting togamis character to be at an "antagonist" level when junko (and mukuro and even sakura if u want to generalize her role as 'the traitor') is Right There. it also isnt lost on me how out of the main three actual antagonists kamukura is included in fanworks/written out the least (though the 'ultimate evil abuser' kamukura vs 'totally innocent' hinata that happens frequently isnt great either...... but like at least hes there vs junko and tsumugi who are forgotten.)

but idk, i know languages changes and a group of ppl being like 'hey to our group this term means this even if is not the original definition' happens all the time. sometimes these shifts are useful, especially for the in-group doing the re-defining, but it can also be confusing and frustrating for the fandom at large when the words have other agreed upon meanings and when women are being ignored/erased

[angel-archivist]

It's so interesting and so exceedingly frustrating how agab is being utilized now within the queer community as a way to isolate and sort nonbinary and genderqueer folks into binary boxes that determine their moral purity levels, and their authority to do and write and exist.

The way nonbinary writers are being put under accusation of fetishizing gay men while their AGAB is continually brought up in a way that feels like queer-space-approved misgendering.

The way feminist circles that are supposedly trans-inclusive will use the word AFAB in a way that implicitly but intentionally isolates nonbinary people who aren't AFAB from joining. It's for women*.

The way the language is already flawed and leaves out intersex folks from the conversations while focusing on a binary of sex that isn't truthful.

The constant obsessing over whether someone is AFAB or AMAB and whether or not that gives them the privilege to join, do, write, or be present in certain spaces really really concerns me. How are we supposed to dismantle a binary system of gender if we can't even move past forcibly assigning and focusing on people's genders assigned at birth?

[revenantghost]

God, just

The way they're both terrible at taking care of others, but they both do their damndest to do it for each other the best way they know how

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[yellllowstar]

slowly I'm recovering the beauty of discovery

(creature by half•alive)

(textless + timelapse below cut)

[craigularory-joe]

oh community episode Queer Studies and Advanced Waxing how i love you so

[spoilthevines]

my brain has chosen to combine two of my biggest hyperfixations of recent years and i am now sitting on a beautiful beautiful concept for an rdr2 au set in the 90s hardcore scene in california*

no but imagine dutch as a manager of a diy hardcore band in the age of every major label suddenly looking to sign the next nirvana and promising the world to bands only then to fuck them over beyond belief and try to make them marketable according to what the labels think is marketable (make micah the pushy label a&r)

mix that with the rise of nu metal and the toxic cis het masculinity of it all and how certain bands literally split up because they couldn't handle their queerer weirder audiences get fucked up at festivals by the nu metal bros

make arthur the frontman (javier is lead guitar, john is bass, bill is fhe drummer) who is very uncomfortable with all this on multiple levels

and i haven't settled on the plot wheels yet but charles is either hired into this as a tech (even though he's a really fucking good musician), OR arthur used to do rhythm guitar as well but now they want him to focus more on performance and "arthur will you stop hiding behind that guitar of yours already" and charles is a session musician they hired for a tour to play arthur's rhythm guitar parts

and we are really fucking golden

don't even get me started about how easy would it be to borrow from larry livermore + green day biography to explain why arthur and john have been around for so long

or on the opportunities for all the side characters (o'driscolls and colm easily morph into a version of epitaph records and brett gurewitz and rancid which makes it easy to draw another link between brody dalle and sadie)

* not in the historic precision sense but in a vague rockstar sense because i have no intention of actually being accurate or figuring out how these characters would fit into the existing dynamic of the scene

[timetravellingkitty]

I could elaborate on said negative feelings but that would require not having a runny nose

[cetoddle]

every woman on earth is the most beautiful show stopping incredible gorgeous person alive and 90% of men make me go ewwwwww…what is that..

[misspickman]

speaking of kon and family i am generally of the opinion that he never really puts a strict label on any of it because its more difficult than that, and something that is so core to his character is that he never had parents, but i will say its funny* how most people who say this are also the people who, when they see fans or dc call clark kons brother/cousin, cry about how labels make it less meaningful, theyre just family! and then turn around and call ma his grandma. so labels are only bad when clark is called something other than kons father right?

i think theres definitely merit to him never specifying who is what to him in this sense but i also think its kind of weird to refuse to acknowledge that ma and pa are his adoptive parents. like canonically. sure i still dont think its that simple and kon probably wouldnt just start calling ma his mom more than the word ma already implies, but its really obvious how much people HATE to acknowledge this or even consider it maybe even more than they hate it when clark is called kons brother/cousin. yknow like people got SO mad about kon referring to ma as his mom in that (bad) comic i saw people say its Worse than him being in a relationship with mgann..... like okay.... can u elaborate on that.. why is it worse exactly.... oh right it completely negates the possibility of clark being his father. right!

[genderdryad]

i feel like i shouldn't have to plaster "mspec/male 'lesbians' dni" all over my page but here we are