no but seriously the next person that makes a joke/comment about me fucking/dating my only guy friend because people 1) feel the need to press heteronormative bullshit onto every different-sex friendship and make the mass generalization that men and women always secretly want to fuck each other and 2) genuinely don’t view asexuality/aromanticism as valid and cannot comprehend how to be supportive and validating of it,, is going to get their shit rocked bc I’ve had about fucking enough of it :)
the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
this is DEFINITELY inspired from that one world's finest issue with clark posing as bruce's bodyguard so they can catch some kidnappers or whatever dfkgjlsd
sometimes katsuki comes home from work late and takes a shower and the two of you eat dinner together and while you're putting the food away, you give him a soft kiss and then he gives you one back and then he wraps his arms around your waist and crowds you against the counter and tugs at your pants until you're telling him, "hang on, let me shower first,"
and you take your time with your clean-smelling body scrub and you exfoliate and you shave what you want to shave and you wash your face and put on your lotion and you smell good and you feel good.
and when you come out of the bathroom, he's on the bed, head back, mouth open, dead-ass asleep.
my experiences being queer in mostly cishet physically disabled spaces: everyone minds their own business, totally accepts my masculine name, welcoming to my trans girlfriend, cool with me bringing a horde of 5+ visibly queer friends to the rugby tournament, some of the older men call me 'they/them' out of a misguided attempt to be accepting which is not my pronouns but I don't mind because they're trying, I play a mixed-gender sport so nobody really cares about my gender anyway
my experiences being disabled in able-bodied queer spaces: bullied, villified for trying to arrange events mostly in wheelchair accessible spaces, constantly disregarded, complete lack of access at Pride, pushed around physically, I've never been to a queer bar with wheelchair access, constantly fighting to have my gender accepted because I don't have the physical attributes people demand from butches, lonely
some post-christmas nonsense thx to @thenamesmiz. i’m rotting on santa!eijiro au who has female reindeer hybrids/shifters to pull his sleigh. he’s such a sweet and attentive caretaker…
but he has elf!katsuki as the head caretaker when he’s not able to be there. and he’s such a good caretaker. 🥺
tw: f!reader, hybrids, heats, fingering, medical exam ig?
thinkin abt elf!kats examining reindeer!reader to track their heats. you get so flustered you can’t even speak, instead reduced to a pathetic bleat when he asks you to bend over once again. he scoffs a little with a grin and tells you to “get on with it. we do this every three months, sweetheart. ‘s not gonna change.”
and even though he’s been doing this every three heat cycles since you started working as santa’s reindeer, you never get used to the way his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine or how exposed you feel with your cunt on display. he’s never awkward or crass about it because it’s his job to keep you well cared for and safe, but he notices how you flush and get slick in front of him.
i’m thinkin abt the day your exam has to be pushed back further than usual, so by the time katsuki gets to you, you’re mentally hazy and too warm in your stable because your heat is just starting. you groan when the stable door opens and shuts, indicating his presence. he’s kind enough to not make you come to him this time, and he’s very apologetic about your exam being rescheduled, knowing how uncomfortable heats could get.
after he sets up his work table, it’s the same song and dance as usual; you hate exposing yourself, but it has to be done so he knows when to give the next treatment to keep your heats bearable without a stag. it’s just too dangerous to risk bringing other hybrids in to ease your ailment.
so you do it anyways. you’re trying not to react from the increased sensitivity. katsuki watches as, bent over his work table, your thigh twitches and cramps while he gently prods your folds. his hand lets go of your tail and runs over the muscle to sooth it as he heats your skin with his quirk. you let out a sharp hiss as he slides in two fingers using your heat accumulated slick as lubrication.
“shh… i know, sugar. i’m tryna make this quick,” he says softly.
it’s taking everything you have to keep yourself from pushing back into his hand as he presses and pokes around. you’re embarrassed by the way you clench and flutter around his fingers. you bite your cheek, gripping the table hard as he takes longer than necessary, you think. katsuki’s hand travels backup to your fluffy tail to pull it out of the way and you squeak, holding back a heavy pant.
“a-almost done?” you sputter out. you bite your lip.
katsuki chuckles. “yes, ‘m almost done.”
your eyes go wide as he massages a spongy, tender spot that makes your thighs tremble. the rough pad of his thumb slips down to rub circles into your clit and you keen.
“gonna give you a little relief first. ‘s that alright?” he asks.
you nod quickly as you whine, pushing your hips into him. he grins.
“‘s a good girl. yer gonna feel better real soon, okay?”
I will say this once because I'm tired of seeing stupid discourse: anti-transmasculinity is not about being treated bad because we clock as men, it's about being treated as stupid little girls because transphobes think we've been tricked into this.
It's kind of the opposite of transmisogyny- instead of fear and revulsion, it's constant condescension, the implications that we've been whisked away from femininity by scary bad guys, that we're going to cause 'irreparable damage' because we don't know what's best for ourselves, somehow. People fearmonger a lot about the "ugliness" of transfem people, but for transmasc people that 'ugliness' is used as a warning- you'll look like THIS! You'll go BALD! Your top surgery scars will leave you MUTILATED! A lot of aesthetic concerns. Worry about our 'beauty'. Because it comes from that same stupid reactionary 'we gotta SAVE the WOMEN' shit, but this time they have to save them from getting 'stolen away', as if we're being seduced or pressured into this. As if we can't make our own decisions.
For TERFS specifically, they're losing one of their own. We're 'gender traitors', willingly aligning ourselves with the half of the population they consider unilaterally dangerous and evil.
We aren't REALLY trans, we just want the benefits that men get. You don't actually want to transition, you're just trying to avoid misogyny.
You aren't actually a man, you're just a self-loathing lesbian.
Why can't you just be a butch girl? Why can't you just be a tomboy?
Why can't you just be something that I don't think is icky?
Anyway. Like all things, it boils down to misogyny. Women stupid and gentle, dont know what best for them, evil men trick into taking man juice, must save because lady stupid and dont know what best for them (having babies and being Feminine).
Theres like. Obviously more to this but I'm just a Transmasc Rando explaining this from my perspective, and I'm not the best with words. Anyone is free to hop in and add on to this
i really need people on this site to start thinking if its really worth it to make a callout for every trans woman on this site who does something that makes you uncomfortable. why do you feel the need to find something wrong with every trans woman you come across I Wonder.
One of my favorite parts of phase 2 (and indeed one of the few moments I resonated with IDW Prowl) was when the neutrals were coming back to Cybertron and Prowl said that he refused to let Autobots be pushed aside and overruled after they were the ones who fought for freedom for 4 million years (the exact wording escapes me atm).
And I mean, that resentment still holds true even once the colonists come on bc like. As much as it's true that Cybertron's culture is fucked up, and as funny as it can be to paint Cybertronians as a bunch of weirdos who consider trying to kill someone as a common greeting not important enough to hold a grudge over.... The colonists POV kind of pissed me off a lot of times, as did the narrative tone/implications that Cybertronians are forever warlike and doomed to die by their own hands bc it just strikes me as an extremely judgemental and unsympathetic way to deal with a huge group of people with massive war PTSD and political/social tensions that were rampant even before the war?
Like, imagine living in a society rife with bigotry and discrimination where you get locked into certain occupations and social strata based on how you were born. The political tension is so bad there's a string of assassinations of politicians and leaders. The whole planet erupts into an outright war that leads (even unintentionally) to famine and chemical/biological warfare that destroys your planet. Both sides of the war are so entrenched in their pre-war sides and resentment for each other that this war lasts 4 million years and you don't even have a home planet any more. Then your home planet gets restored and a bunch of sheltered fucks come home and go "ewww why are you so violent?? You're a bunch of freaks just go live in the wilderness so that our home can belong to The Pure People Who Weren't Stupid And Evil Enough To Be Trapped In War" and then a bunch of colonists from places that know nothing about your history go "lol you people are so weird?? 🤣🤣 I don't get why y'all are fighting can't you just like, stop??? Oh okay you people are just fucked up and evil and stupid then" ((their planets are based on colonialism where their Primes wiped out the native populations btw whereas the Autobots and OP in particular fought to save organics. But that never gets brought up as a point in their favor)) as if the damage of a lifetime of war and a society that was broken even before the war can just magically go away now that the war is over.
Prowl fucking sucks but he was basically the only person that pointed out the injustice of that.
And then from then on out most of the characters from other colonies like Caminus and wherever else are going "i fucking hate you and your conflicts" w/ people like literal-nobody Slide and various Camiens getting to just sit there lecturing Optimus about how Cybertronians are too violent for their own good and how their conflicts are stupid, with only brief sympathetic moments where the Cybertronians get to be recognized as their own ppl who deserve sympathy before going right back to being lambasted.
Like I literally struggled to enjoy the story at multiple points because there was only so much I could take of the characters I knew and loved being raked over coals constantly while barely getting to defend themselves or be defended by the narrative so like. It was just fucking depressing and a little infuriating to read exRID/OP
Seeing all these fankids running around makes me think of the tmnt 2003 fandom days <3<3<3, there are def more fankids but I only have so much steam
(fankids left to right)
Amaterasu Hamato belongs to @sha-biest
Casey Jr. belongs to Leonardo
Augustine Hamato belongs to @star-sparkler
Lita May belongs to @cupcakeslushie
Yummi Hamato belongs to @rednleafff
I took a picture of the lines for once and did some basic crappy photo editing on my phone, so you could probably print this out and use it as a coloring page or something if you so wish lol. Do with it what you will.
ok among my favorite parts of qsmp is the fact that charlie slimecicle can only hold the act of being mad at mariana when mariana isn't in the room. like he successfully rp'd being mad at his deadbeat puta esposa for months while mariana wasn't logging on, like he complained about mariana at the wedding, during the election, in subsequent appearances, and then he's messaging mariana in the chat during purgatory and he's still holding it
and then they're both at spawn like as close to face to face as they get. and bro CANNOT hold the act it drops so fast lmfao he was like "yea cellbit i'm gonna kill mariana" and instead they have a genuinely heartfelt conversation and then rp sexo in the fountain
and i know i'm brainrotting purgatory rn but i'm actually thinking about this bc i saw a clip of mariana and slime talking during the awards show and literally. slime's face goes from 😡🤬 MARIANA'S HERE, SAY SOMETHING PUTA ESPOSA to 😄😁 the second mariana shows up on the screen
like he's still pretending to be mad but dude is grinning like absolute crazy and i love that