had to not be asian enough

I usually make a point to avoid getting into this kind of drama. 

That stops now.

If you’ve been following the kind of people I follow, or if you’re part of new fandoms that experience a sudden explosion in popularity and number of fans - Undertale. Steven Universe. RWBY. Fire Emblem. Overwatch. Disney. Gravity Falls. Star Wars. Marvel. Etc -, you will have seen something like this.

Every time, without exception, there’s a small group of people who think they are entitled to say what is right and what is wrong. Who erect themselves as judge and jury of what is GOOD and what is PUNISHABLE. And now, they may well have erected themselves into executioners.

There was a tumblr user by the name of tyrant-rex. Emphasis on WAS. If you go to his blog you’ll notice it’s deactivated. That’s because he did it, right after leaving a suicide note.

Rex shipped Pewey. That is Pearl/Mayor Dewey, both characters from Steven Universe. Pearl is a canonical lesbian character. Mayor Dewey is a guy. And that, it seems, was all the reason this toxic part of the fandom needed to want him dead. They showered him in hate and this is the result. Rex may well be DEAD because some people decided a fictional ship was worth more than a human life.

And the most sickening part? They’re not sorry. They revel in the pain they’ve caused. They try to justify it.

“But Pearl is a canonicaly lesbian!” Doesn’t justify killing a person over it.

“But it was lesbian erasure!” No it’s not, just as shipping two heterosexual characters in a gay relationship isn’t heterosexual erasure. And even if it were, it would still not justify killing a person over it.

“But seeing that ship hurts me!” If a non-canon drawing of a fictional ship is enough to cause you pain you should go to therapy because you are obviously not well off on the head. Oh, and it STILL DOES NOT JUSTIFY KILLING SOMEBODY OVER IT.

I mean, really, did these people even think about what they were doing? What they are celebrating? If he’s dead, that’s a whole person gone from the earth. Did he have friends? Family? Loved ones? Hopes and dreams? And now those people will never see him again. His goals will never come to be. And why? Because of a ship? Because people on the internet couldn’t stand others loving things they didn’t like? Can you think of any subject more STUPID to hate somebody? To drive somebody to death?

This is not the first time the SU fandom drove someone to the edge of suicide. And I tell you right now, it’s not going to be the last. This is gonna keep happening. And you might be reading this and thinking I’m overreacting. I wish I was. I wish I had no reason to make this post. But Rex, and those who came before, are the horrible proof that no, I am not exaggerating.

And just like they came for him, they will come for you. Because you drew Connie’s nose too small, or her skin too light. Because you drew Pearl with boobs, or Mei and Rose skinny. Because you made Frisk’s eyes too asian, or Hanzo’s eyes not asian enough. Because your humanization of Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps is not the color THEY want it to be. Because you dared to ship the “wrong” ship. Because your opinion is something they don’t like.

I honestly don’t know how to close this, so I’ll just say, if anybody’s shitting on you or trying to get you to hurt yourself, block them. Your mental health and your life matter so much more than all the fictional characters in the world.

*crawls back out from under a rock after 500 years*

did someone say semi-realistic shiro

This is rare: I actually like this one. A lot. I had to use references because how the fuck do half-Japanese dudes look (yeah, I headcanon him as half-Japanese, not 100% Asian) but… I actually like it. Maybe the world’s gonna end tomorrow.

Also I may or may not have accidentally slipped into Voltron hell. Deep. Very, very deep.

I may have fallen deep enough to actually make a Voltron art side blog. Find my Voltron stuff at full-steam-spacemachine.tumblr.com.

Alright I’m just going to jump into the Aladdin casting controversy bullshit head on. Since this is Disney making a live action version of their 1992 cartoon adaptation I’m just going to address that and not the original origins of the story. Now, I’m seeing a lot of people saying that the character MUST be Arab because the characters are Arab… and like no they’re not? Disney’s Aladdin is not explicitly Middle Eastern, South Asian, North African, Arab, etc. It’s a racist fusion of the non-white “other” that takes aspects of all these cultures and blends them into one. 

Don’t get me wrong. I freaking LOVED Aladdin as a kid, but like let’s be real here this is in no way a positive example of representation. It’s filled with stereotypical, racist tropes that reduce us to savages. Like literally:

“Oh, I come from a land from a faraway place where the caravan camels roam. Where they cut off your ear if they don’t like your face It’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home.”

So many people are on here saying that the characters need to be Arab because it’s a Middle Eastern story. Which just blatantly ignores the other influences this film had, not to mention that there’s more groups in the Middle East besides “Arab.” Like somehow the fiction Agrabah is located along the Jordan River, has tigers and monkeys in it, was named inspired by Baghdad, is inspired by the Taj Mahal, includes Arabic architecture, and overall uses Middle Eastern, South Asian, North African influences. 

This was by no means an “Arab film,” this was Disney using a bunch of stereotypes and throwing them together because they didn’t care enough to invest in the history and culture of a specific area. Instead they melded SWANA influences together because who cares, we’re basically all the same, right? Unlike movies like Brave where you know where the film is located, the cultural influence, and you see that represented on screen. 

Anyway that’s all I have to say on the live action version directed by Guy fucking Ritchie in what’s sure to be totally positive representation. 

{PART 22} I Won’t Stop You (M) // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; You hear the great history of Vampires as you have never heard it before. But as the door into Jungkook’s world is opened wide for you - many more open in turn. Jungkook finds himself overwhelmed with anger - and that anger turns into something you least expected.

“His love and protection were both her weapon and shield. She didn’t belong or willingly surrender to anyone; anyone that was, except him.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 21} {Part 22} {Part 23}

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

ok this is going to sound rude but i totally don't mean it to be, but as an asian i always get super exited when i see asian authors, so i was wondering why you chose to write a european story rather than something korean? loved it tho

Hi nonny:

I get this question a lot, so I’m going to come across as a bit short or annoyed, but it’s not about you, I promise (I don’t know you after all). 

It’s about your question.

It is a rude question, and I don’t appreciate it. Frankly, what I am and how that affects what I write is none of anyone’s business. If you want to know why I wrote Wintersong and not something Asian, I write a little about it here. And it isn’t that I don’t intend to write something Asian-inspired; I do. Why did I choose to write something European? Many things. I like Mozart. I like the German language. I like European folklore. I am pretty goth. I grew up with these things, so I know them pretty intimately. 

But I want to unpack this question a little. Why is it that women of color are expected to write or perform their own marginalizations? Do we go around asking out queer people to only write queer stories? Do we ask disabled people to only write their disability? Incidentally, I wrote my disability into Wintersong. I gave Liesl my bipolar disorder. But the praise and censure I get always stems from the most obvious marginalization I have: my face, and by extension, my ethnic background.

If you want to get into the weeds of why I didn’t write something Korean first, it’s because I’m not Korean. I am of Korean descent, yes. I am a member of the diaspora. But neither am I truly a part of the Korean-American immigrant experience. I grew up pretty privileged: my dad is white, I went to an all-girl’s private school, was part of swim and tennis clubs, etc. I had a lot of the markers of cultural whiteness, which is tied with class. My Koreanness is whitewashed, not just by my cultural privilege, but because I didn’t have access to a Korean extended family. My aunties, uncles, and cousins all live in Seoul, or some didn’t make it out of Pyongyang before the establishment of the 38th Parallel. I’ve been to Korea twice. The only Korean members of my family are my mother and my grandmother. Everyone else is white.

That cultural whiteness? It comes across to a lot of people, and it especially came across to other Koreans. There are reasons I don’t speak the language as well as I should, considering it was my milk tongue. I went to Korean school and attended Korean church for a while, but I was bullied and ostracized so badly I stopped going back when I was 9. I wasn’t bullied because my dad was white; I was bullied because I wasn’t Korean enough. I didn’t share their cultural language. I didn’t even share the same parental pressures. My mother is the one who had been pressuring me to quit my day job and become a full-time writer, not my dad. As a result, I was the outcast in every Asian group I ever tried to be a part of as a kid. Some were open about it to my face. You’re not Korean enough. Some were more insidious about it. They would deliberately choose subjects and topics about which I had no handhold, freezing me out of conversation. My friends? The theatre kids, the artist freaks, the writers. The vast majority of them? White. 

This obviously left pretty deep psychic scars. I can’t eat doughnuts, for one. They smell of Korean school and shame. But it also left me with a deep insecurity about even approaching a Korean subject in writing. Am I enough? Am I enough, am I enough, am I enough? It’s only as an adult that I’ve made Asian friends, that I’ve slowly started to find my way back to the heritage I’ve kept at arm’s length. 

I’m telling you my history, nonny, to better answer your question. But to also maybe shed a light on the effect of asking a marginalized person to perform their marginalization for you. For me, that question is fraught, and I imagine it is for a lot of other Asian writers as well. When I hear that question, all I hear is You are not enough. You are not Asian enough. You didn’t even write something Asian. You are not enough, you are not enough, you are not enough.

Lyna & Carissa’s Developpment

Hi LoliRockers ! 

Here’s a big post, about Lyna and Carissa’s development. When season 1 was nearly completely written, we had a request from our producers : “Add two new princesses for season 2, and have a 5-princesses gang from now on”. 

Initially, the team was very reluctant : we knew we already had too many characters, therefore adding two more seemed a bad idea for the stories. Jean-Louis Vandestoc suggested that instead of a “5 princesses gang”, the two new princesses should be supportive characters : outside the main gang but always ready and willing to help when needed. That way, it would be easier to add them without upsetting the balance we created between Iris, Talia and Auriana. 

That’s why Lyna and Carissa were created as part of a second team : Izira’s Resistance Princesses, and why they’re not part of all the episodes of season 2 or live with the other princesses. Jean-Louis’ inspiration for them was Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune : he wanted Lyna and Carissa to be strong and independant, like Izira was. We had however to keep them both around the same age as our three main princesses, so we made them younger, and more like “princesses in training” rather than “mature veteran princesses” (much to JL’s disappointment)

Now, the question remained : what would they look like ? We wanted Carissa to be a “ fiery and tomboy warrior princess”, and Lyna to be a “snooty and delicate mage princess”. We also wanted an Asian princess, but didn’t know which one it would be… And so we started to draw…

All along your reading of this post and its designs, I let you appreciate all the little details and differences here and there. You can see what made its way up to the end, what was rejected. Just be aware that it wasn’t a straight path. It never is. 

1 - The First Researches

Finding new symbols became like a game for the whole production team, not only the artists. We all tried to suggest new cool symbols, and of course suggested a lot of very stupid and irrelevant ones. It was a good time. :)

As for the haircuts, we tried a lot as you can see. It’s probably one of the most important and distinctive feature of a magical princess, so we had to make a lot of tests.

Once we had these drawings, we made a few proposals to our producers & broadcasters, with combinations of magical and casual, and trying Lyna or Carissa as “the Asian princess”, one after each other. 

2 - First Proposal

For each of the proposal below, we tried different outfits each time. We knew that none of our proposal would be accepted entirely as they were anyway : you always end up with a patchwork of a little of each, that you have to put together somehow. Like it or not, it’s part of the process it seems.

As for the color palettes, well… “Pink”, “Orange”, “Blue”, “Red”, “Green”, “Black” were already taken. There wasn’t much left for the main colors that could fit : “Purple” and “Teal” were chosen for Carissa and Lyna. Yellow was rejected, as we tested it earlier with Auriana and… well, it really didn’t worked for the main gang. Maybe for an outsider princess ? But not for Lyna nor Carissa.

With Carissa as Asian, Lyna was Caucasian and we felt too close of Iris, and not young enough. With Lyna as Asian we could put Carissa as an Irish type, and this combination was much more appealing for us ! Everyone agreed, up to a point : we were asked at this time that Carissa should not be a redhead, as Auriana was supposed to be the group’s “redhead”, and another one was… “not needed”. Carissa’s hair color would go from red/orange to brown at this time. 

Much work was yet to be done though… We had a basic direction approved, but we needed to explore it more thoroughly and it was time for more advanced color test too. 

As for “Lyna-Caucasian” type, we kept the design and used it as a base for a character of season 2 : Debra, from episode S02E15 “The Ruby of the Orient”. ;)

3 - Color Researches

Choosing the exact outfit was a very complicated task, perhaps more for the casual outfit than the magical one. Below are a lot of our tests…

4 - Selected

In the end, here is the combination that was selected : 

… But it wasn’t still over. 

In fact, it never is until some production manager forcefully takes your model sheet, put the final approval seal, and flee with it before you can stop him/her. In our case, it didn’t happen, so, here we go for the final adjustments : 

For the princess form, we were good and convinced they were what we needed. But for the casual outfits and colors ? Not so much. 

5 - Final Adjustments

In this first model sheet, we tried different colors on both our characters to make sure the 5-Girl line up would work. We tried again color we previously rejected. We even tried to make Carissa black again. Well, it helped us confirm a few things, but we still weren’t there. For Lyna especially, we felt her top needed to be reworked : the knit, with or without sleeves, etc. (Note : we tried a lighter color for her eyes while we were at it). And of course there is always, all along the process, the question “how hard will it be to animate ?”. I confess this wasn’t a priority for a lot of people, but we tried to never forget it nevertheless.

Ok, at this stage, we had found the final shape for Lyna. We only needed to confirm our colors… We tried to put Carissa as the Irish redhead we originally wanted… and surprise ! This time it worked ! And everyone was convinced we had found her too ! 

And finaly, after a few months of work and back and forth, we could go clean and color the final model :

6 - Final Model

It’s fun to note that, even on the final color test we had, none of them was “the good one” : it was a bit of one, and a bit of another, in order to have the final model. As it always is. ;)

Ok folks, this was the last post of the season. :) 

I need my beauty-summer-vacation-sleep ! I’ll have a lot to prepare for September if I want to continue feeding you with model-sheets, development, backgrounds and stories of course… and I’m crazy late regarding the animatics and I want to fix this. 

Have a nice summer everyone, and see you back in September ! 

So, Janna Ordonia is likely to be Filipino American.

Originally posted by trapped-in-cartoon-hell

No explicit stereotyping, no exaggerated accent, just a girl with an ambiguous skin tone and a personality and character destinct from her heritage. 

Just… speaking as a Filipino American myself, and someone whose been accused of being whitewashed by a few different people, I just have to say I’m happy.

I doubt this this is going to be seen as some stunning, progressive move on Disney’s part, especially since the gay kiss scene is getting far more news coverage, but that doesn’t matter. I think it’s important that this isn’t a big deal, and that we treat Janna just like any white character. I don’t want special treatment, and I don’t want her South-East-Asianness to interfere with my favorite character. 

I mean, I know some people are going to say different things, like “She’s not asian enough”, but people forget that people like her do exist. It’d be amazing if we had some show that embraced the Filipino culture whole heartedly, especially since the only other representation we have in western animation is The Nutshack , but to be brutally honest, I don’t think I’d be able to connect with that show as much as I have with this show. Of course, I’m only speaking for myself, but whatever. 

So its not that big a deal, but it’s still nice. A reminder that representation matters. Let’s hope we have more characters like Janna in the future.

If Iron Fist ever gets a season two

First off, kick Scott Buck out of the showrunner role. Also, if we can fire him from the Inhumans show, that’d be great.

Second, hire Gareth Evans (director of the Raid series) as the new showrunner.

Third, get the fight choreographers from the Raid series to take over the fight choreography on the show. Add Tony Jaa just in case. Also, take notes from Daredevil and keep the camera steady during the fight scenes. If the actors aren’t good enough at fighting to the point that you need shaky cam…

Fourth, drill Finn, Jessica, and anyone else who is going to be involved in the fighting scenes. Like, boot camp the fuck out of the cast. If Julie Estelle, who had NO martial arts experience before “The Raid 2”, can learn Pencak Silat just in time to film her fight scenes for the movie, then the cast can improve their fight choreography for season two.

Fifth, introduce Shang-Chi for the sole purpose of building him up for his own show (like the Punisher). If you want to court the controversy with the Asian-American community, you don’t have to punish Finn or anyone else involved with the show for it. Just greenlight a show featuring one of Marvel’s Asian heroes, that’s more than enough of an apology.

Sixth, less boardroom politics, more strange, mystical martial arts stuff. Delve into the Hand mythos, that was more interesting than what was going on at Rand enterprises.

Seventh, add Misty Knight

Eighth, add Luke Cage…albeit in a recurring or guest role since he has to do season two of his own show.

Ninth, write Danny and the whole show in the style as the movies. Yeah, I know the Netflix side of the MCU is more grounded and Danny is definitely the most lighthearted of the Defenders but his show should not be as grounded as it was. Iron Fist has a fucking glowing fist of power, was trained in some ancient mythical city, and he’s a billionaire kid. His show should feel more like Agents of SHIELD or Arrow, not a poor man’s Daredevil. Not saying the grounded style is bad, it’s just Iron Fist isn’t a hero that should be grounded.

Tenth, give Danny a sense of reflection about his own privilege and the fact that he’s a white guy with powers from Asia. If you want to combat the white savior trope, have Danny at least recognize these things about himself and never have him talk over the Asian characters (like Colleen) about being Asian. I like that Colleen did call him out on some things but Danny himself should recognize that he’s a white savior. Have him LEARN from this.

Eleventh, add more Asian characters to the main cast. Upgrade Madame Gao, Lei Kung and add Shang-Chi and Blindspot. Throw Amadeus Cho in there too. Point is, Colleen should NOT be the only Asian character in a show that features mystical, Asian stuff. I’ll even accept creating an original Asian character.

Bienvenido

Originally posted by happilydeepestlady


Summary: Y/N Atkins returns from Puerto Rico and all eyes are on her in Liberty High School.

Paring(s): Jeff Atkins x sister!Reader, Montgomery De La Cruz x Reader, Zach Dempsey x Reader

Request: N/A

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1094

A/N I have no idea how this happened, it was supposed to be a Monty x Reader.  I started this after my first imagine because I thought it would take long for requests to come in and I just finished it.

News traveled around school fairly quick about the new student transferring from Puerto Rico.  While everyone was taking guessing on whether the student was female or male, your year older brother, Jeff, was waiting happily for you to step out of your plane and into the rowdy terminal.  You left the summer before eighth grade simply because you wanted to visit family and here you are, returning in the middle of sophomore year.  With a bunch of begging to your parents, Jeff took the day off from school to pick you up and spend the day with you.

Now, over the years, you would say you changed seeing as middle school was hitting puberty and high school was growing on it.  When you left, you were short, not pale but not exactly Jeff’s skin tone.  However now, your skin and hair were glowing, you have grown at least 6 inches and you were a lot more curvy.  Although your brother loved you to death, he didn’t love the fact that your outfit complimented your body a little too much and that a few immature teenage boys were gawking at you like a piece of meat.

Keep reading

White Rabbit

TITLE OF STORY: White Rabbit 
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: One Shot
AUTHOR: PassionateWriter07
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: James Conrad 
GENRE: Romance/Smut
FIC SUMMARY: Over the course of the final weeks of the Vietnam War, you had become best friends with a certain British ex-special forces solider. What happens when you find out you’ll be separated for months; you back to America, him to Skull Island?
RATING: M!!! 
WARNINGS: A combination of fluff, friendship, and, once it starts, pure smut.
AUTHORS NOTES: Kong is amazing! Tom is sexy as hell! And I really, really wanted to write my first reader fic with Conrad. I hope you like it! (Sorry it’s so long!) 
TITLE NOTE: Named purely for White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane, the song that plays in the background of the bar fight scene in Kong: Skull Island.

Tags: @slytherin-pixie 


Originally posted by maryxglz

One of these days, you needed to stop poking the proverbial hornet’s nest. Here you were, in the middle of the Vietnam, one of the few Americans willing to come over here in the first place. You wanted to help people—you were very skilled as a war nurse—and there was no one left at home, so why not enter the war?

It turned out to be one of the best decisions you ever made.

And led to the worst.

The streets of Saigon outside the bar were loud—you could almost hear the shouts and horn honks from inside. Inside, it was a dark, dismal, private place. People kept to themselves, whether they were there for a fling or to garner some extra cash. White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane blasted through the bar, ironically adding to your mood; in Vietnam, you sometimes felt like Alice lost in wonderland.  

You sat at the bar, your eyes traveled over the various types of people who had come tonight, as you swayed to the music. There were the typical Ladies of the Night dancing on tables, some on men’s laps, you didn’t really care to stare at their intimate activities for fear of someone catching your eye and getting pissed off. That had happened once, never again. Never. Again.

Keep reading

1/100🥀

hey guys! it’s @asian-psychblr here so unfortunately i forgotten my email and password for the previous account since it’s i’ve been for quite some time because of exams. anyways i’ve graduated high school last year december with flying colours YAY! as y'all can see i’ve created a new account and i couldn’t thank all my studyblr friends enough all those tips about studying and preparation had helped me tons. now i can’t wait to start a-levels soon hope it treats me well. hope everyone reading this will have a great studying/reading day let me make new friends all over again and i hope studyblr could help everyone out there because it’s really useful. have a great day everyone and i love you all 💖

On a Monday morning in June, Simon Tam woke up at his home in Portland, Ore., to 753 notifications blowing up his phone.

“At that point, I knew something had happened,” Tam said. The Supreme Court had finally resolved his nearly eight year fight with the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office over the name of his band, The Slants.

The justices ruled, unanimously to strike the section of a federal trademark law that prohibited the use of disparaging and offensive terms. The trademark office had cited part of a 71-year-old trademark law, Section 2A of the Lanham Act, when it prohibited Tam from registering The Slants, a slur against Asians, as the name of the band.

The Court’s ruling agreed with Tam and the other band members that the law had infringed on their free speech. But in the process, The Slants case had opened up a whole can of worms involving other offensive or racist terms, most notably the debate over the Washington Redskins. The team’s owner, Dan Snyder, said in a statement that he was “thrilled” with the decision.

And sure enough, the football team has since won its own trademark fight. A group of Native American activists led by Amanda Blackhorse, along with the Department of Justice, gave up their longstanding court efforts to ban the team from using that name.

Which was something Simon Tam and his band mates never anticipated when they formed their Asian-American rock group more than a decade before.

What’s Next For The Founder Of The Slants, And The Fight Over Racial Slurs

Photo: Ariel Zambelich/NPR

Acceptance as a Queer Asian American

Coming out as pansexual to my grandmother was an extremely important, and I believe, pivotal moment in my life as a queer, Asian young adult. I believe this for many reasons, but there are two specific ones that over shadow the rest.

The first of those is what it meant to me as a Japanese-American woman to feel safe enough and confidant enough in who I was to come out to my grandmother. For the majority of my queer journey up to this point, I was dead set on the fact that I could never tell my grandmother my sexual orientation. No matter the circumstance, I was sure that my grandmother would not understand or approve. No matter the circumstance, there was a great chance of my losing my relationship with her, my strongest tie to my Japanese heritage and her presence in my life as a third parent could be gone forever. I wasn’t willing to sacrifice the love between us or isolate myself even more than I already felt from the Japanese community.

As much as my refusal to share my identity with my grandmother was based in my fear of her not loving me anymore, a good portion was also based in how I felt my faux-heterosexuality was essentially tied to my right to my Japanese heritage. I already felt like an imposter for being biracial and I felt that my admission to being attracted to more than just men would give the community more reason to exile me, revoke my membership that I’d come to believe I could only have if my grandmother backed me first. After all, my grandmother was the closest resource I had for my culture and language. Everything that made me feel Japanese I could attribute to her: my round face, olive skin, and almond eyes, my short stature and straight frame, my knowledge of Japanese tradition and lore with her songs and stories, my induction to Japanese pop culture with Studio Ghibli, candies and sweets, cartoons by Sanrio, and watching her Japanese shows on the TV, my love of the Japanese food she’d raised me on, the miso shiru and gyoza that marked my childhood, my interest and grasp of the Japanese language that she’d spoke and sang to me all my life. If she disowned me for this, it would feel like the entire Japanese and Asian community behind her would disown me as well.

When I finally decided to come out as pansexual to my grandma I was twenty. Four years after my official acceptance of the label, I’d gained enough confidence in my intersectionality of identities, enough love and pride for them all, that none of them could be affected by her acceptance or disapproval. My forgiveness and acceptance of my white, Scottish family and heritage had allowed me to discard the shame I felt for being mixed race in the Asian community. My growth and education in my Japanese heritage, history, and language had given me confidence in my identity as a Japanese person that no amount of racial slurs, stereotypes, or discrimination I received from any group of people could shake. My growth and knowledge of my self as a sexually and gender queer person and found footing in the LGBTQ+ community had shed the self hatred and fear of rejection from my mind. As painful as losing my grandmother would be, it would not and could not break me as might have before. I was tired of living behind lies. Being able to do something about that without fear of losing myself in my lost relationship was the most liberating thing I’d felt in my history with my Japanese and queer identities.

The second of the two reasons is absolutely the way my grandmother responded to my coming out. She both met my expectations and surprised me in the best of ways. And by that I mean that her reaction was so explicitly something my grandmother would say and do, but my fear of the worst case scenario had clouded my ability to perceive this outcome over the former.

I saw the opportunity to tell her over a conversation we had started about the recent mass shooting of LGBTQ+ people in Orlando, Florida. The devastation she expressed over the massacre, her clear understanding of the hateful prejudice behind the crime, it allowed me to see her clearer than before.

“I don’t understand why people do that!” I remember her shouting. “Why you got to hurt and kill people just because you disagree? Megan, it does not matter who you love, who I love, it doesn’t matter! Just because you believe doesn’t give you right to take another’s life!”

With her words my perceptions changed. My biases that often allowed me to view her as a stubborn child with an adult’s face and experiences had been pushed aside. Instead of the previously held image I’d had, my view of my grandmother had shifted to that of a women who’d experienced much hardship and shut out many new people and ideas because of it, but was still capable of growth and acceptance of new social norms and ways of thinking. This new image, this new perception of my grandma was a kinder, softer one than I’d met previously. It was one that I was safe with, I could feel it in my stomach and my cheeks.

“You know, it’s kind of scary for people like me, people who like more than just the opposite sex, people like those killed in that club, to be alive right now,” I said. “I’m like them, I like more than just boys, I want to date a girl someday, and it scares me that someone might want to kill me for that.”

My grandmother stared at me for a moment, her bony arms encircling her small legs, a high hum coming from her throat. That hum and the noise of her TV that never got turned off were the only sound in the room for several moments.

“You like girls?” She asked, then gestured to the news on the TV. “Like those people?”

I nodded and she made the same high hum.

“Well you know, Megan,” she said, looking down then back up again. I could feel my heart pounding heavily against my chest. “it does not matter who you love what you believe because you are my granddaughter. You are my first granddaughter and I will love you and take care of you always.”

I felt tears pricking my eyes and my heart slow its pace. I’d cried coming out to each of my parents so far, but this was the first time my tears were from joy.

With my mother I’d cried with frustration and anger at her lack of understanding and patronizing questions. Despite her general acceptance and “I’ll always love you” concluding statements, it’d hurt that she’d had so many concerns and objections. With my father I’d cried with rage, the pain of betrayal, the pain of lost love, and a fear for my livelihood then forward. He’d made me feel like a child running from home who truly had no option of turning back. He’d made me feel like his promises to love and care for me all these years had been out right lies.

But with my grandmother, all I’d felt was an overwhelming happiness from her words. Her straightforward acceptance, her attempt to understand me with out being invasive… I hadn’t been aware of how desperately I’d needed her to respond in this way until she had. With it I felt a tremendous weight lifted off my chest and a surge of love and emotion.

Seeing my watering eyes, my grandmother leaned forward and hugged me. I laughed at how her arms could hardly reach around my shoulders and I scooted closer so to make it easier for her. She patted my back with her bony, knobby, hands and kissed my head.

“I don’t care who you love, Megan. I love you first and that’s what’s important.”

I sniffled and laughed, squeezing her waist in my arms.

“Arigatou gozaimasu, obaachan. Aishite,” I said. “Thank you, grandma. I love you.”

MASTER OF NONE Season 2 is fantastic.

There are stories for everybody!
Indian people, short people, deaf black women with good fashion sense who want cunnilingus, Asian men caught in love triangles, Black lesbians growing up and falling in love in America, Film Majors who loved old Italian movies, lovely doormen who have had enough of your shit, African cab drivers who just wanna have a good time & really wish you wouldn’t spoil the end of the story, people who hate that song from the Six Flags Commercial, and so much more! Perfetto!

Can you believe there are 4,000 people following us? That’s amazing! We are so thankful for each and every one of you who keep up with Daily Victuri. We would not be here without all of your love and support for our blog. 

That being said, we decided that we wanted to celebrate, and what better way than with our first official fic rec list? Writers are some of the biggest unsung heroes of the YOI fandom, and our love for Victuri writers reaches far and wide. We wanted to use this opportunity to highlight fics from all corners of Victuri fandom, so we reached out to you guys for suggestions and recs. The response was overwhelming! From you guys, we were able to create a list of fifty-five fics. We tried to compile a combination of fandom favorites along with some lesser known (but still wonderful!) ones, and we all hope that this will help you find your next favorite read. 

All fics are being listed below the cut and are sorted into categories based on length. 

xoxo, your Daily Victuri Admins

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I don't know if you're still interested in the Teenage Mecha Ninja Turtles short (but if you aren't, feel free to ignore this message), but I noticed that the children are also named after more contemporary artists that relate to their heritage. Frida = Frida Kahlo, Basque = Jean-Michel Basquiat, Kusama = Yayoi Kusama, Jackson = Jackson Pollock. As an art major who barely passed art history, I got all giddy for recognizing the names! Thought this might be fun to share!

holy shit the artist symbolism goes deeper

i’m kicking myself, that’s so great??? like i didn’t even know that stuff (art history was never my strong point, i was more the sort to do whatever the fuck i wanted in class and BS my way through everything else because **~art is interpretive~**), but i’m so pumped that it’s a thing!!

i’m so happy the creators of that short put so much thought into their work- the continuation of the artist names thing is really quite sweet, and shows how much they loved the story idea, (i love it even more now omg) not to mention that it states the races of each kid, which makes me even happier as a fan-writer. so much possibility, now that i’ve got canon info.

so yeah much thanks to you anon, i can work with so much more depth now that i’ve got this info. plus add jokes about fate since all the kids have artist names despite not being related (that we yet know)

Over the last 24 hours I’ve spoken to some people. People who have graciously explained very important things to me, and who have agreed to help me see things I was blind to beforehand. People who have been kind enough to give me advice on how to fix a mistake I had never specifically encountered before. 

I recently created and posted a piece of art that portrayed Solas as a japanese samurai. This particular piece was unwittingly insensitive. I know this because this particular piece… hurt some people. Which means I hurt some people. This was my mistake, born from ignorance towards certain things that I’ve been deservedly schooled on in the past few hours. My mistake was not even being able to realise this portrayal of this specific character could be disrespectful, or hurtful. And it was. 

My mistake was not knowing enough about the Asian people in this fandom who constantly have to deal with having their culture stolen, or have their characters invalidated just for being who they are, not only by people in the fandom but also by the very creators of the game. And I am sorry. I am deeply sorry that I was enough of a witless idiot not to see this before. I do now, and I’ll forever consider it when I have to make decisions in the future. 

My mistake was not realising that Solas is not only an elf, but a white male elf. A white male. In the end, that’s what matters here. In the end, he has no right to wear an attire that represents and means a lot for Asian people. And for not seeing this, I am sorry. 

My mistake, and something I won’t forget, was not realising that not wanting to do harm doesn’t mean you cannot do harm anyways. Lack of ill will does not ensure that people won’t get hurt and does not justify the mistakes you make. The mistakes I make. And I’m sorry. 

Because I do make mistakes. I’m just a person, just an artist, and deeply ignorant on many levels. I do not dream to think that I am all knowing and everything I do is good and fine and allowed. Because clearly, I am not. This piece of art, this particular decision with deciding to post it, that was wrong. So I’ve decided to remove it. I’ve removed everything, everywhere. It does not mend the damage done but I still wanted to do what I could to try. I made this blog with the aim to support and make people happier, and it is heartbreaking to see that  I’ve managed to achieve the opposite, and it was my doing.

And to those people I hurt, in particular, I want to say again; I’m sorry.

No, you do not need to be POC to understand or explain this to others. You just need to be able to learn; you haven’t the right to take certain things. You don’t need the right, either. They have it. They have all the right. They are more than an attire, there’s always a person behind that. We need to see the whole spectrum. We need to appreciate and accept everything they are, and who they are. 

So, I am sorry. And thank you for the lesson you’ve taught me today.

-Red

PD: I’d like to request for no comments along the lines of “but Red you did nothing wrong” to be left on this post, please… I don’t need my image restored, or for people to like me. I do this because it’s the right thing to do, period. I did make a mistake. I’m human. Allow me to acknowledge it and learn from it as I should. Thank you all.

Tumblr has a problem with diverse media.

This is nothing new.

Today, a friend of mine expressed that she has become too paralysed with fear to continue writing. She’s working through it and it’s compounded by her mental illness which magnifies this sort of self-destructive rumination. However, as for the trigger, she named it specifically as Tumblr’s vicious hostility towards any piece of work which does not pass their arbitrary, ever-shifting and vastly varying criteria. Criteria for being “inclusive”, as well as portraying “diverse” characters in a way which doesn’t raise red flags for some subset of users and thus gets stamped “problematic”, or if you’re feeling saucy, “garbage shit trash”.

To summarize: Tumblr “critical consumption” has effectively silenced a queer, female, mentally ill creative voice.

I am a minority creator myself (biracial, mentally ill) and I’ll be the first to admit that hanging around tumblr has been helpful in learning how to examine my programming and how it shows up in my work. However, I possess a confidence– and arrogance– in my work that others do not, which allows me to press forward even when my inbox accuses my queer characters being “lip service” because they don’t have romantic arcs.

Is deep-sj tumblr happy with this model? Are we content to batter aspiring socially-conscious creators into abandoning the idea of creating altogether, while scores of white boys skim past your open condemnation of Urbance with a scoff, if they even read it at all?

Let’s talk about Urbance. Before I get right into it I have a related anecdote.

Some time ago, I recommended The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula LeGuin to a user seeking books with gender-nonbinary characters (the work in question contains characters who are, quite explicitly and viscerally, genderfluid). They immediately discarded the idea after reading its summary on goodreads. They didn’t want to read a book about “some white guys from Earth having to ~learn to accept~ gender noncomforming aliens and that being the entire arc of the story”.

Anyone who’s actually read Left Hand knows this is ludicrous, but for your benefit, the main character is black, and he is the only Earthborn human in the story; the Gethenians are described as ‘Inuit brown’ and are humanoid in every respect besides their unique sexual physiology. The core themes of the book are actually about exploring a society which doesn’t have a masculinity construct. Where everyone is both male and female. No time is spent by the (BLACK) protag being disgusted or crudely fascinated by the Gethenians; only with examining how his two-gendered social programming has led him to frequently prejudge and misunderstand them.

No, that wasn’t good enough. These barriers need to not exist, because we want diverse stories where LGBT and people of color don’t face prejudice, right?

Urbance. Urbance was almost utterly destroyed by Tumblr; its creators sought to portray a society where everyone was mixed race (their characters were unmistakably black and asian-coded) and the construct of 'race’ was absent, a relic of a bygone era. Tumblr users decided that this, in itself, was racist. They proceeded to pick apart every line of a translated-from-French Q&A page and decided that Urbance was acephobic, nb-phobic, transphobic, queer-erasing, whatever; until, embarrassingly enough, Urbance received a funding surge at the eleventh hour from fucking GamerGate.

GamerGate had to pick up a promising, racially and sexually diverse project because Tumblr users were so utterly batshit hateful towards it that it almost didn’t get funded. Simply to spite us.

So that’s at least one high profile 'progressive’ piece of media that Tumblr has waved its dick and balls at and nearly destroyed– has there been an analogous example of a diverse project that Tumblr has rallied behind? 

Oh right– The Arkh Project. 

I really have nothing else to add that hasn’t been said a hundred times over by people more versed in this stuff than I am– everything is problematic, progress in small steps, glass half full, etc.

The fact of the matter is Tumblr needs to sort its fucking attitude out, and quick, or we’re looking at a lot of the same shit for the next ten years while the same straight white guys make everything, and laugh at “SJWs” constantly, impotently, pointlessly, complaining. While queer, female, mentally ill writers languish in corners, silent, hiding like battered wives from the people who are supposed to be their advocates, their protectors, and their fans.

Sort it out.

Family Heirloom

Filling request 46 #7 and possibly request 47 #4 in a second part

Things always got interesting when your mom went away on vacation. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for her, she always seemed to be running off somewhere to do something–or someone. Ever since she’d dug up the old family amulet, your mother had been pretty eager to pass off all of the consequences for her actions onto you, her son.

The first time it happened, you had been horribly embarrassed. Especially since you’d still been in high school, and having a 3-month baby bump that grew and grew prompted a lot of taunting. You’d hated how you looked like a house under the stupid, blue graduation gown, and how the stupid baby wouldn’t settle down for the whole ceremony, rolling and kicking and causing all sorts of discomfort.

After the third time a baby had been added to your womb, a certain appreciation had developed. You enjoyed the weight of your stomach, how you had to spread your legs apart when sitting to make room for it. The fluttering of feeling the babies inside move around and compete with each other for space, and being able to run your hands over your round, swollen stomach, knowing your half-siblings were inside. The reality of it all turned you on, honestly, and you enjoyed the time when your mother was gone so that you could head to the mall and have a little fun. It was a huge imposition, granted, to be waddling around in public in so much discomfort, but it was worth it.

You thought you would’ve gotten more looks, honestly, wandering around the mall with a stomach the size of a woman who was in her 8th month of pregnancy. At first, it had been a huge burden on you. Your mother would come back from a rather scandalous vacation in the early stages of pregnancy, and she’d pass it over to you to incubate for the remaining months so that she could run off again. Of course, you never gave birth. You’d go to the mall and, using the family amulet, pass them off onto some nice-looking couple, so that they might end up with a cute bundle of joy.

Today, that was your mission. Of course, you had to have a little fun, first, It wasn’t uncommon for you to do this, and it was just amusing to look around and watch as everyone acted like this was perfectly normal. You picked a bench outside of a maternity store to camp out on, and the show began. A young woman pushing a stroller approached the store, her blouse stretched tight over a rounded, ample stomach, Smiling, you rubbed your thumb over the amulet, watching her stomach flatten out as she entered the store. At the same time, you felt your own swelling underneath your shirt, which was loose enough to accommodate the day’s plans. As your stomach expanded, your legs spread to make room for it, and you smiled to feel two extra babes rolling around in your womb, making a total of five. It felt euphoric, and you couldn’t help but run your hands over the smooth bump, which was protruding massively out from your flat chest. You were getting hard, but it wasn’t like anyone could see it, not around your stomach anyway.

You had your fair share of fun for a few hours, giving a white couple an asian baby, or an african-american couple a white baby. At the most, you’d counted seven babies in your crowded womb, and you’d barely been able to sit up straight with how heavy and large your stomach had been, When it came time to pass off the two babies you had been left with, which you weren’t even sure where your siblings at this point, you realized that it wasn’t something you had to do. For years you had dreamed of giving birth, of going through hours and hours of exhausting labor to give way to the euphoria when it was all over. Your mother was on vacation for a few more months, yet, which meant that the two babies you had could grow until they were ready to come out, and then you would bring them into the world yourself, on your own.

When you stood up to leave the mall, you held your heavy stomach as you waddled out, trying to ignore the clear arousal in your pants. You had no idea what the next few months would bring, or what to expect when you went into labor. All you knew is that you had never been more excited for the next few months of your life.