is used way too often for this shit

men being not masc or not straight or openly having feelings or whatever the fuck open gender nonconformity they display doesnt make them any safer and is often used as a tactic to seem safe and nonthreatening so that they can take advantage of vulnerable people. this stuff combined with overt interest in sexual media and kink shit that theyre way too open about + being uncomfortably inconsiderately open about their sex lives in general while also complaining a lot about how lonely they are and specifically reaching out to connect with vulnerable people (i.e. folks who are younger, mentally ill, have been previously victimized) are all massive red flags

My Problems Dmab Nonbinary Representation
  • Everything is dfab centered, from dysphoria ref pages to nb safe spaces, everything where we should be seeing ourselves equally
  • “Masculinity isn’t androgynous” while well-meaning does not do it’s job of helping feminine androgyny grow. It makes people who have no choice but to look masculine (aka dmab people) feel like shit
  • When we are brought up, it’s in two ways: posts that are ‘sorry’ we aren’t mentioned more, or us being lumped in with trans women
  • Being ‘sorry’ doesn’t do shit, how about do something proactive so apologizing isn’t necessary
  • While trans women are wonderful, we are not the same. We have different needs. Many of us can’t find refuge in feminine things like (most) trans women b/c nb people often don’t feel comfortable expressing masculine or feminine. 
  • While reference guides for tucking are nice, we need more dysphoria refs. We don’t all tuck. We need other information spread too (safe hair removal for instance, which after years of growing hair I personally know jack shit about)
  • Inclusion. If you’re running an nb help blog, or an advice column, or anything like that, you’d better have at least one dmab mod, if not, more. Otherwise you’re really not helping us.
  • Community. Spread posts and information about and for dmab people. Make sure your community spaces are inclusive and welcoming to us so we don’t feel guilty for being around. It’s not fair for us to feel unwelcome because we can’t see ourselves where we have every right to be 
  • Please reblog this, or contact me if I was too vague about a point or incorrect about something
  • Other dmab nb people: feel free to talk to me, I’m here for you
Reasons why Tythan is real and better than Septiplier

-They don’t have girlfriends and therefore are single (but not really cause they’re dating each other duh)

-Tyler’s huge pupils around Ethan

-The giant Tyler is gentle af with the blue boy

-Tyler doesn’t hit Ethan as hard with balls or arrows or other shit they use in videos to shoot each other

-If Mark doesn’t sit between Tythan they do a lot of gay stuff and a looot of touching

-They share clothes

-Their height difference is just way too cute for them to not kiss 24/7

-Mark and Sean destroyed Septiplier and always joke about it/make fun of it

-Tythan doesn’t talk about Tythan

(so while Septiplier is dead, Tythan is growing beautifully)

-They live together (also on the same damn continent unlike Septiplier)

-Tyler picks Ethan up and carries him around quite often

-Opposites attract

-They are best friends

-They talk daily while Septiplier doesn’t

-Septiplier always tease us with their fake gay shit while Tythan is gay without trying (heart eyes, sitting close as if there wasn’t a whole couch for them, touching all the time, starring so hard, Tyler makes Ethan food especially while the boy’s live-streaming)

-They are like a married couple already

-They seem really damn gay so they probably are

-Tyler protects Ethan from things he’s allergic to

-Also Tyler fucking implied that he kisses Ethan (or at least gets really damn close to his face/mouth) by saying that he “can eat peanuts now because Ethan isn’t here” on one of Mark’s live streams while eating a snickers

-Tyler never said that he’s straight (I don’t think he ever said anything about his sexuality)

Do you know what Tyler and Ethan ALWAYS are when they’re together?


It’s About Damn Time

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and Reader are working a vampire case. When Dean decides to go in alone, things go a little differently than planned.

Word Count: 5204

Warnings: Swearing. Because I’m a fucking lady. Vampire gore and killing. Being tied up. Smut. Again, lady. Fingering. P in V sex. 

A/N: This is for @luci-in-trenchcoats 2k Follower Challange. My prompt was “Wanna try that again like you mean it?”, which is bolded in the fic. Beta’d by the ever lovely @wheresthekillswitch. Thanks for helping me make what I had even better! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

Tags at the bottom. If you want added/removed, let me know!

“Dammit, Dean, answer your phone.” You’re starting to get worried now.

This is the fourth time you’ve called him, and when his voice comes over the line telling you to leave a message, it’s the fourth time you’ve had to swallow down the fear so it doesn’t come through in your voice. “You were supposed to just watch him, Winchester. If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble again, so help me God, you’re going to pay.”

You end the call, tapping your phone against your palm as you try to think. You suck a breath in through your nose, hold it for 5 seconds, then release it. You need to clear your head, figure out your next step. He’s got the Impala, of course, so if you plan on finding the him you’re going to have to borrow a car for a bit. You grab your leather jacket off the chair back, swinging it over your shoulders, shoving your hands through the sleeves as you grab your room key and head for the door. You check your phone one more time before sliding it into your pocket, shutting the door behind you as you scan the parking lot of the motel, eyes squinted to the bright mid-day sun.

There aren’t many cars parked in the poorly paved lot, and the ones that are there aren’t ones you want to trouble yourself with. You jog over to the diner across the street, eyes hopping from one car to the next until you spot a nondescript compact sitting in the back row. Yahtzee.

It’s old enough you shouldn’t have to worry about a security system but still looks like it should get you where you’re going without worrying that it’s going to break down. You walk to the car with purpose, looking for all the world like you own it. You slow as you near, hand automatically reaching out to try the handle. It always amazes you how many people just leave their vehicles unlocked in these small towns. You curl your fingers under the handle and give a tug, and sure enough, the door opens right up. With a smirk, you slide in to hotwire it and get your ass moving.

Keep reading

When you’ve had a lot of exposure to the SJ side of Tumblr, you’ll start to pick up common abusive tactics they use to instill control over people who are unsure of what side they want to be on.

The most common type I’ve seen was projection. It’s when someone wants to remove all accountability from the actions resulting from bad traits they hold by attributing those bad traits onto you. And I’ve seen it in this form the most: Somebody could go into hysterics about the supposed ‘self-hate’ you have because of certain political views you hold (that don’t apparently “line up” with your minority status), but a quick scroll down through their blog would either reveal those typical self-depreciating posts, how much they hate/want to kill themselves, or how nobody else likes them.

They tell you not to talk to certain people they perceive to be bigoted based on their very broad definition of one. If that doesn’t work, they’ll resort to toying with your emotions. I’ve talked about this before, but they’ll insist that nobody else (outside of the minority group they’re apart of) cares about them. Basically it usually goes like: “If you associate with them, they’ll drop you in a heartbeat when you don’t become useful to them anymore, but since we’re the only people who supposedly care about you, you’re better off staying with us no matter how much abuse we throw at you.” They feel threatened when anyone, especially other minorities who are expected to have camaraderie with them at all costs, point out faults within their mindset so they resort to this particular tactic.

There’s also the “Preemptive Defense” strategy which a lot of narcissists love to use. I didn’t know there was an exact word for this, but I’ve seen this one play out way too often on here. It’s when someone says you should trust them right off the bat because they’re a “nice person”. But on here it comes in the form of trusting someone - especially believing whatever they say without question - because they’re a minority of some sorts. Because they’re a minority and therefore inevitably ‘oppressed’, everything they say, they say with good intentions (or everything they say is right) even if it comes in the form of overtly abusive language.

And you can’t really do shit about it cause, “You gotta listen to them or else you’re speaking over them and denying their right to a voice!”

Another attribute that narcissists share (and lots of people on here) are subjecting people to “smear campaigns”. They control how others see you by making themselves out to be the good person while you’re the toxic one. A smear campaign is a preemptive strike to sabotage your reputation and slander your name so that you won’t have a support network to fall back on lest you decide to detach and cut ties with this toxic person. They may even stalk and harass you or the people you know as a way to supposedly “expose” the truth about you; this exposure acts as a way to hide their own abusive behavior while projecting it onto you. I think I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve seen this happen here.

They deliberately misrepresent your thoughts and put words in your mouth too. They’ll try their damn hardest to rephrase whatever you say to make your opinions sound like garbage. This gives them a sense of power as everybody comes running to their side and away from yours because they purposely misinterpreted the core argument you made in your post. One of their favorite approaches is finding something slightly off with your wording and using that to twist the point you made while moving the goalposts at the same time. I made a post that said ‘Radfems will call a transwoman a man because they raped somebody as if men are the only ones capable of rape’ and I got swarms of replies talking about how I didn’t care about the rape victim affected (which they ironically proceeded to deny his identity by referring to him as a ‘’female’’ because he was a transman) because I happened to bring up a different issue at that time. Either that or I was a rape apologist.

Once they lose that sense of control – because you disagree with their thought process – they’ll either try to strip of you of your identity or use fear-tactics (i.e: nobody cares for you except for us) as a consequence of not conforming to their political views. “If someone’s reaction to you setting boundaries or having a differing opinion from your own is to threaten you into submission, whether it’s a thinly veiled threat or an overt admission of what they plan to do, this is a red flag of someone who has a high degree of entitlement and has no plans of compromising.”

Then comes the oversimplifications and generalizations of complicated matters. They’re left-wing versions of reactionaries, they don’t bother to look at things from different perspectives; they instead apply their own bias where they see fit. They have no concept of nuance and dismiss people who point this out.

An Open Letter to Brown Sugar Babies

I have written an open letter to underage sugar babies because my little sisters were weighing on my heart. That weight is back again but now it’s for my fellow brown sugar babies. The black girls that join the bowl full of hope and optimism. There is something in me that says I should be talking to you. I’ve done it before, I suppose, when I told you that I loved your blackness but we need each other. Need to talk to each other and remind each other that things are okay and will get better.

Do you remember when you first got the idea to join the bowl, sis? Mine was when I was watching the Dark Knight. I was fresh out of a breakup but couldn’t get out of the lease so all of my furniture and clothing were in the living room. 

 I was tired. I was tired of being the one that put my heart and soul into making my partner a better person but leaving the relationship exactly the same as I was when I entered it. This relationship was a bit different. I can admit that. I knew more about who I was than I ever had. But my ex was primed to step into a new job, a new life, because of me. 

I put my attention back on the movie just in time to hear the Joker tell a room full of criminals that if you were good at something you should never do it for free. A lightbulb went off in my head. I was excellent at being a girlfriend. Far better at it than I should have been considering the return I was getting on my investments. I would be a sugar baby. It would be easy. Brilliant. I would be a rich woman with a closet full of designer clothes in no time at all.

Do you remember that? Remember the naivete, the feeling of invincibility? Do you remember when you realized that it was hard? There’s so much to learn! So many tips and tricks about what you should say, do, ask for, demand. Do you remember feeling like your head was about to explode? But the confidence was still there. You had a tumblr page full of pictures reblogged from luxury accounts. All of those things would be yours soon. You would be taking pictures leaning against Bentley’s and Maseratis soon enough. 

Do you remember taking the plunge and making your first sugar profiles? Do you remember how the veteran SB’s told us over and over that SA and SDFM were washed up and dead-nothing like how they were in say 2006 when a girl could make some real money? Do you remember how you scoffed and created that profile anyways? Things would be different for you. How could they not be?

But then you started scrolling through profiles and realized how many of the men offering the allowance you wanted had absolutely no interest in black women and weren’t afraid to say so. And of course you knew racism existed and was alive and well but it never smacked you in the face the way it was now. Not like black women? How could you not like black women? Some of these men that hated black women were black themselves. Didn’t they know? Black women are beautiful. Some of the women these men lust over the most are black. 

Do you remember moving over to the men that were open to black women and realizing how much lower their allowances were? How much more disrespectful? How much more sexually overt? When did you start to wonder how different things would be if you were white or Asian? When did you realize that all of those pictures you posted of luxury goods and the women that enjoyed them featured white women, the occasional Asian woman? When did you realize that there were no black women at all? 

But you kept going. And you had a few POTs and scheduled a few dates. You went on the dates and realized there were two types of POTs that you kept running across. The ones who never had a black woman before (as if you were a cocktail on a drink menu or a mildly uncomfortable but still interesting disease) but were so excited to do it now or the ones who thought black women were so hot and just loved hanging out with us because we were so sassy and funny and look they listen to Drake and Chance the Rapper sometimes too. Pat them on the head for being cool. Either way, you get called ebony and chocolate and queen and goddess so often that you wonder if someone’ s going to set up a camera and tell you the storyline behind the porn you’re staring in (not that you’d mind. The money’s pretty good).

Eventually, after a shit ton of effort and struggle, you land yourself an SD and you’re so proud of yourself. As you should be. It is not easy to get past the men who can’t hide their look of surprise when you tell them the allowance you want. As if your skin color should be all the reason he needs to give you less. You found an SD. But now you have to go out in public with him.

Do you remember the stares? Do you remember how people would do little things to you-ask for your ID when you clearly are well over 21 just to see how old you are exactly so they can giggle with their coworkers? Snide looks? Comments? The meals that were “accidentally” messed up or took too long to come? But you remember that you saw sugar babies of other races with their SDs and sure maybe there were some looks but because they couldn’t quite figure things out, those girls got left alone. Your skin again. It always comes back to the color of your skin.

But all your skinfolk aint your kinfolk are they? Even black people are against you. You can set your clock by the think pieces that come out bashing sex workers and wondering why black women are willing to open their legs for the white devil. You think reparations. They think low self esteem and shame.

You realize that your black life doesn’t matter. Not as much as other black lives do and that if the police, who think you’re lower than dirt because of your occupation and the color of your skin, leave your dead body in an alley you will not warrant a hash tag. It is heavy. The knowing is heavy. 

So is the isolation. Your homegirls talked about getting a sugar daddy then talked shit about anyone that actually went out and did it. You cannot tell them. You cannot talk to them. 

So you find yourself making friends with women online. Do you remember your first sugar friend? The first woman to message you and make you smile because she understood and had something encouraging to say? I have made friends that I can confidently say I will have for the rest of my life. They are sugar babies that decided they wanted to be my friend and I have never been more thankful for anything in my life. 

Do you remember when you realized you accomplished your sugar goals? You made a list of things you wanted to get from this journey and realized you had them? Do you remember the moment when it came to you that you made the decision that you wanted a certain type of life and then you went and got it and everyone else be damned?

I guess that’s why I’m writing this, sis. I just want to tell you that I love you. I want to tell you that I know it’s hard to work twice as hard for half the results. I know it isn’t fair and I know you deserve better. Of course, I know. You inspire me every day. 

This letter is to tell you that I love you, that even if I haven’t left a comment on your posts, I see you and I scream with joy every time you go on a great date, delete SA and freestyle, or you kick a shit man to the curb. 

You are beautiful and amazing and you can do anything as soon as you put your mind to it. You are a warrior and a goddess and the site of you makes the inferior man tremble in fear and rage. 

Keep your head up. I can’t see it will ever get any easier for us but doesn’t that make the success even sweeter? 

I love your black ass. Everything about it.

listen shallura shippers get treated like shit in this fandom. we’re small so we’re always struggling for content, we get like six other ships in our tags every damn day, we got a bad reputation because a lot of antis kind of shipped it before the age discourse started it, which turned shaladins against us, and then once the “age results” (which can be disputed multiple ways but anyway) came out antis were against us too, and being total assholes. we’re some of the only shippers that actually prioritize two characters who are often overlooked or grossly mischaracterized by the majority of the fandom, our ship gets the least screentime compared to almost any other, we’ve never actually been acknowledged by any of the writers/creators, and none of what happened in s3 was actually good/what either of my favourite characters deserved to go through. both their signs of ptsd and trauma get ignored or glossed over, they get shit on for the sake of other characters’ development, both of them are treated badly to service keith’s narrative, they’re both poc leaders who are strong and have the weight of the world on their shoulders, and they deserve to be able to rely on one another. antis act like we’re shipping this terrible unhealthy couple where in literally ever interaction they’ve ever had they communicate and trust each other and they’ve always treated each other like equals, and shaladins hardly care about almost anyone but how shiro can service who their actual favourite character is.

and i know this is a generalization and obviously not everyone fits into these definitions but god i have been in this fandom since july 2016 and i remember being so excited because finally i was going to be in a fandom where one of my ships was actually going to be pretty popular, and getting immediately sidelined by sh3ith but being pretty ok bc we were still chugging along, and then there’s been all this bullshit with ages that i never wanted to be dragged into, because shipping should fundamentally come down to a preference of dynamic/tropes and i’ve been in far worse fandoms with far more disgusting popular ships, and no one will ever leave us alone, and i am just So Tired.

just leave us alone. most of us have one foot out the door of this hellhole anyway.


guess who these lil nerds are

taako writing masterclass part 1

okay so a couple of peeps in discord ( @emi–rose, @maegnus, @epersonae) were lowkey askin/down for a “how to write taako guide” so i’m writing one and sticking this up here for archiving. 

this covers how to write in taako’s voice, verbal quirks/syntax/cadence. part 2 will be characterization.

here are my qualifications: i write too much taako and also listen to too much taz. 

also disclaimer: i’m just one guy and this is my interpretation of the character. this aint gospel.

______ CUT SHOULD BE HERE ______

Keep reading

Car Rides and Hoodies- A Camp Camp Ficlet

I blame @spatziline and @forestwater87 for this. But their stuff is awesome so check them out if you don’t already know who they are. This takes place immediately after the season 2 finale so if you haven’t seen that, don’t read this. With that being said, enjoy!

It had been slightly heartwarming to watch Max, the most difficult camper Gwen and David had seen in years, open up to them. Undercut by it was the fact that they had had to force it out of him, force him to tears. Gwen, normally she didn’t care about making a kid cry if they didn’t sue the camp or it didn’t involve her crapshoot of a job in any way. But seeing a kid, not even at the age where a kid should be so jaded about the world, and yet was was heartbreaking. She and David shared the front seats while Max sat in the middle of the backseat. Gwen glanced at him through the rear view mirror as they began the drive back to Camp Campbell.

There was something else that caught her attention, something she hadn’t thought of before now. Max despised the camp, that was true, but surely his parents had allowed him to pack more than the yellow camp shirt that had been given to everyone. And despite being up near the mountains, the weather during the summer was sweltering on the most comfortable of days. Yet despite that, Max always wore that hoodie of his. That same one, even tossing out a duplicate his parents had in fact sent him. It sent her psych degree side on high alert. She remembered learning during orientation (crappy though it had been) that kids and other abuse victims often wore long sleeved garments to hide the markers of abuse. Nurf didn’t bother Max, and she couldn’t help but wonder….

She glanced up at him again through the mirror. David for once in his life seemed content simply to enjoy the quiet. Max himself was letting the rhythm of the car lull him to sleep. Neither counselor could blame him, it had been an emotionally exhausting day for everyone, a ten year old’s fatigue was probably doubled.

“David,” Gwen whispered, trying to get his attention while not waking up Max.

“Yes?” David looked at her as she kept her eyes on the road.

“I think,” Gwen bit her lip, uncertain if she should say anything as David took the wounds of the world to heart and this new ground with Max was as solid as a frozen stream in spring, “How much of Max’s home life was mentioned in the paperwork?”

David’s chipper demeanor instantly sobered, “There wasn’t much to go on, you know that.” She had been the one trying to stop him earlier.

“Do you remember anything?” Gwen pressed, “Like contact information other than home or cell numbers? Like a job?”

“Why do you want to know all that?”

On the off chance the little shit wasn’t all the way asleep yet Gwen lowered her voice even further, “I want to know just what type of people Max’s parents are. Couldn’t even come to parent day when we sent out communications about it well in advance. Didn’t even call to let us know they weren’t coming. And did you ever notice that Max never takes that hoodie off?”

“What’s wrong with wearing a hoodie?” David, just as naive as a child David, pressed.

“Abuse victims will often try to cover the signs of the abuse,” Gwen answered, “I know it’s been too long for us to find any bruises, but if there are scars on his arms…”

“He wouldn’t want anyone to see them,” David finished, eyes growing wide with horror, “Well what do we do? Should we ask him about it?”

“Right now?” Gwen hissed, “He barely trusts us as is, you really think he’d tell us about something like that?”

“Maybe not when he’s fully awake,” David agreed, “but if he’s half asleep?”

“It’ll have to wait,” Gwen said as they pulled into the campgrounds. The parents were gathered as if they had seen something they couldn’t believe. And Cameron Campbell was (as usual) nowhere to be seen. Still those looks of shock weren’t anything good.

“Take care of Max,” Gwen instructed as she parked, “I’ll try and figure out what’s going on here.”

“Roger that,” David agreed making the Camp Campbell sign of salute.

It was but an hour or so later that she had learned of what happened to the conman of a boss she had. And now she was left wondering where to go from here. Thanks to the former CEO they didn’t have much money left, and with the agents Miller being the ones to catch him, it was likely the place was going to be shut down. And as much as she hated this place, being left without a job in the middle of summer was about the worst thing that could happen. The parents had decided to bid their children goodnight and sleep in their pre-prepared tents. Gwen went to find David and hopefully inform him about what had happened in their absence.

She found him in their shared cabin, staring morosely at the set that wasn’t even on. His whole countenance exuded sadness, and immediately Gwen knew that whatever conversation had happened without her wasn’t good.

“Ream you out for getting too close too fast, did he?” She asked, taking the armchair next to his.

“It would have been easier if he had,” David let out a mirthless laugh, “He said that he’d heard what we were talking about and called us dipsh- well, idiots for thinking his parents might beat him.” There was a pause, as though David were trying to shore up his nerves for what was coming next, “And then, he curled in on himself, and said that sometimes he wished they did, because at least then they’d be paying him some attention. Have you ever heard anything more heartbreaking?”

Gwen couldn’t answer verbally, because the words just wouldn’t come. How fucked up was it that a ten year old boy would wish to be physically abused by his parents because it was the only way, in his mind, that they would notice him. And then his behavior at camp so far made more sense than ever. As much as he hated “getting caught” it was a way for him to be noticed among the throng of other children they had to worry about. Even today, he’d thrown food at the other parents, and that’s when their focus had been completely on him, not worrying about whatever crazy order Campbell might give them next.

“And then,” David sniffed, “He told me about Mr. Honeynuts, how his grandfather had given it to him when he was small, how it was the only reminder that someone in his family saw him, noticed him, loved him.”

“And what did you say to that?” Gwen asked.

“What could I say?” David asked in response, “All I wanted to do was give him a hug, but I knew he wouldn’t want that. So, I patted his head, drew the covers back up, tucked him in, and said goodnight.”

“And I’m guessing he didn’t say anything back?”

“Not until he thought I was out of earshot,” David sighed, “Just another day at Camp Campbell huh?”

Speaking of Campbell, Gwen sighed, “Look, I hate to be the bearer of worse news than today has already wrought, but…”

She explained what had happened to Campbell because of them. And for once David didn’t look mortified that he had let his hero down. Was he upset that in all likelihood the camp would close? Yes, but maybe it was better that way. Camp wasn’t the way it used to be, and there just wasn’t enough of them to turn it around right now. Maybe someday, but not today.

“I mean,” Gwen said, already hating herself for the idea, “We still have a few more weeks of summer, and Erid’s parents are government, maybe if you could convince them we might get enough funding to finish the season on a strong note.”

With shining eyes David looked up at her, “You really think so?” He asked, optimism shining like a lighthouse beacon.

Gwen shrugged, “Honestly? No, but I’m a jaded cynic. I do believe, however, if there’s anyone who can convince them, it’s you.”

Immediately David jumped out of his seat, pacing and muttering to himself. How he could have any energy after a day like this was a mystery to her.

“What are you doing?” Gwen asked him, “Isn’t it about time we go to bed?”

“Bed?” David questioned,“There’s no time for bed! There’s so much to do! Business plans to put together, proposals to draft, and there’s another matter I want to look into…” Gwen knew without him saying a word that it involved Max, “So what do you say CBFL? Will you help me?”

And somehow she knew this latest harebrained scheme would end up involving her. She checked the time, knowing David this would take all night, “You and Quartermaster are handling the little brats for breakfast and morning activity tomorrow, while I sleep in. That’s my price.”

“But Gwen-”

“Take it or leave it,”

David pouted for a moment, but Gwen remained impassive until he agreed.

So… first Camp Camo fic, hope I did alright, to everyone who enjoyed it, thank you and I love you so much!

On Pride, and being Ace/Aro/Agender

As pride month slowly comes to a close I take a second to look back at my queer ass journey, self discovery and what it really means to be a part of a community that doesn’t always acknowledge you exist, and sometimes directly excludes you.

I am Asexual, I am probably Aromantic (as I have an extremely hard time holding onto any romantic feelings despite wishing I could), and I am trans because I am Agender.

These are all things I’ve come to discover along the road. They were less big revelations and more “Oh shit that’s something you can be?” moments. For a long fucking time I felt like I didn’t exist, or that I was wrong for being the way I was. Because nobody talks about these identities. We have no representation in anything. The media that even acknowledges us often brands it as “too boring” or “hard to understand” and wont put us anywhere in their work. But through this oh shit moments, I realized that if there is a bunch of other people out there that feel the same way, maybe I’m not broken.

Maybe I DO have a community of people like me.

But LGBTQIA community can be very off-putting to people with my identities, In 2014 I went to Pride in Savannah, my first Pride ever and I was so excited, but I didn’t see a single Asexuality flag. I saw maybe ONE Trans flag. I didn’t see anything for Aromantics or Agender people. I saw more flags and positivity for people who love pot than people like me.

There were pride flags for people who love bears, for twinks, for furries, for bdsm, for all sorts of things except none for me. It was never something that was done maliciously, and it’s good that all those things exist and you can buy them and support people who do love those things, that’s fucking great. But when I can search an entire fairground for one purple, white, grey, and black flag and come up with nothing, but I can find about fifty different pot pride flags it’s disheartening. It’s exclusionary.

It made me feel like I didn’t exist again.

There’s been a lot of times in my life where I wished I could just be normal. Have proper feelings like everyone else. But I’m not that person. I don’t have, and probably wont ever be able to interact with people on that level, and while it makes me feel very disconnected from humanity as a whole.

So often Love is equated with humanity. “We love people, we marry people, we kiss, we flirt, we have sex with people because it’s what makes us human.” But what does that mean for me? Am I some alien species because I don’t find that enjoyable? Obviously no. There is plenty of support out there if you look hard enough for it. But holy shit I just wish it was louder some days. Because it’s so easy to miss. It’s so easy to listen to the back of your head that just tells you you are broken. Wrong. Never going to be loved the same way as anyone around you.

Asexuality is a funny thing. Often times people have such a hard time removing their own experiences that they can’t fathom someone thinking and feeling a different way.

Aromanticism is even weirder because half the time I don’t even fucking understand how I work. But I can’t force myself to think a certain way any more than anyone else. I know, I’ve tried.

There comes a point where I just have to step back and accept that this is who I am.

I’m different.

And while that’s not a bad thing,

Maybe one day I’ll be able to feel good about it.

Related to the last post I reblogged about people using Japanese names

Recently I came across a couple incidents online within the span of like two days in the same community where people used Japanese for their names and had everyone completely mislead thinking they were Japanese. One of them was a white person who had been outright lying in real life and online for years (amazingly) and using yellow face with a fake Japanese last name claiming to be half Japanese. The second person had her full name in Japanese, katakana first name and the kanji last name of her ex husband, in addition to a very gyaru looking profile picture and although she never said she was Japanese, everyone who came across her including me had assumed she was Japanese. They both spoke about east Asian and Japanese women’s issues. Oh, and these people were in many poc centered spaces and the first girl was in SEVERAL POC ONLY spaces. When it came out that the first girl was lying about her race it was incredibly upsetting and hurtful to the community because she had actually been close and friendly to a lot of people and even bonded with east asian woc over the difficulties of being an asian woman in a white country.. I still feel so weird about the whole thing. This person had me thinking we had the same ethnic background. I don’t like that I end up being skeptical of white passing people about their ethnic background but this Rachel Dolezal shit happens way too often and it’s so unfair to real mixed people. The second one wasn’t overtly lying but yikes. If you aren’t Japanese and use a Japanese name in Japanese characters on facebook along with a Japanese gyaru looking profile people are going to safely assume you are Japanese!!! This has got to be intentional cause there was absolutely no reason why she couldn’t just use roman characters especially for her white ass first name. if you are doing something like this something In you is deliberately trying to make yourself more “exotic”/you’re a fucking weeaboo trying to look Japanese. You’re misleading people and it’s so insulting. I even backed down from a conversation about asian women to give HER space to talk. FUCK these people. I don’t think white people get how hurtful this is but it’s INCREDIBLY VIOLATING to poc. this shit needs to stop, I am so tired of it. stop taking names from and aligning yourself with other races and cultures. Stop accessorizing yourself with aspects of other peoples culture. You’ll NEVER EVER be us, no matter where you live, who you become friends with, fuck, or become parent to.

I just want to give a few tips for people with super long hair.
  • When you shower, use whatever temperature you usually use but once you are done, turn the water cold and soak your hair in cold water. Get all the hot water out because this will make your hair shine and shit
  • Focus shampoo mainly near the roots. Shampoo is something that removes oils and your ends can be pretty dry so they don’t need that too much.
  • Focus conditioner at the ends. Conditioner is filled with oils which your ends needs, dont put it in your roots, it can make your scalp all moist and gross. (also dont use conditioner every day)
  • When you dry your hair with a towel, dont rub the hair together, squeeze the hair with the towel so you wont damage it further.
  • Blow dry your roots, this way it wont get moist and shit in your scalp which can result gross swampy shit or dandruff etc
  • Always brush your hair before sleeping/showering
  • Long hair can often be heavy and seem as if its glued to your face. To get a little lift, sleep with your hair up in a SUPER high pony tail and the tighter the better. Once you wake up and let your hair down, BOM BAM UR A GODDESS/GOD

Hope it helps. Remember some of these things works differently for different people but all these works amazingly for me, hope it helps you<3

anonymous asked:

"Im going to need you to put on some underwear" or something prompt for bellarke... hopefully its bellamy saying it to clarke, or both situations x

I love this one. I love it. Thanks for the prompt, nonny! This got a little….risque but with a prompt like that, how could I not?


A normal relationship looks like this: mutual trust, honesty, passion, and respect. Eventually, love. For Clarke, well, she’s never been any good at normal relationships. Hell, her current one was built off mutual hate and loathing paired with constant bickering. There is definitely passion, oh yes, and that was discovered the first time she and Bellamy ever slept together. She’d like to say they were both drunk and just  stumbled upon it but the truth is, it was bound to happen. One moment they had been arguing, probably over something small, and the next they were ripping each others clothes off and falling into bed together. There is definitely passion. 

Sometimes it manifests itself in unique ways. They argue over Netflix documentaries and their historical accuracies (and usually she loses because Bellamy Blake is a history NERD), over how to properly fry an egg, and even over stuff they normally agree on. Okay, maybe they argue because they enjoy it sometimes and when Bellamy gets fired up, he’s extremely attractive. All this to say, their passion is never absent, just present in specific moments. Like this one, as she stands in the mirror trying to make herself look like a sex object but not for the reason you would think.

No, she’s currently sporting one of Bellamy’s dress shirts complete (or incomplete, depending on how you look at it) without anything underneath. No bra. No panties. No shorts. Zilch. While, technically, her endgame is exactly what you think it would be, it’s not without making him suffer first. After all, he started the war. She’s ready to end it.

Pranks are nothing new to them. Even during their mutual hatred, pre-passion, stage, they played pranks on each other often. Stupid shit, sometimes embarrassing shit. Now that they’re together, it’s only gotten worse. Today he took off the toilet seat in the bathroom causing her to fall into the toilet bowl as she shuffled in, half asleep, for her morning bathroom break. It’s just as childish as it sounds and all because they had gotten into a fight over the toilet seat two days ago (he’s used to living alone now, he can’t help old habits!).

Is she taking this too far? It’s possible, but she’s already committed and honestly, it’s way better than falling ass first into a nasty toilet. He’s currently sitting in the living room on some important conference call (college professors do this, apparently) completely unexpecting. Show time. 

He pays her no mind as she walks into the living room, typing away at something on his laptop and nodding profusely at something someone on the other line is saying. She’s trying to go for casual, so she walks to the TV stand and pretends to be looking at movies. He’s sitting directly across from her, so she knows he is seeing this. As she bends over further, she hears his sharp intake of breath as the shirt reveals her perfectly round ass. She’s been doing squats specifically for moments like this. When she turns around, she sees his face has gone completely slack and he’s watching her in reverie. 

“Um, yeah,” he says into the phone, “I’ve just been trying to figure out ways to engage students in the content more. Make them want to show up for class and participate…”

Always a dreamer, that one. Now that she has attention, she moves towards the couch with a devilish smile. On instinct, he leans back and watches her saunter towards him. He is humming into the phone, pretending to really comprehend what the person is telling him. She crawls onto the couch and straddles him, letting her naked bottom half rub against him. His eyes are hooded and he has completely checked out from the conversation, struggling to hold the phone to his ear. 

“Yes sir, I’m listening,” he manages to get out with a steady voice. She grinds down on him for extra measure and she swears he whimpers.

She kisses his neck, right in the spot she knows he likes, and he seems to lose all self control in the worst way possible.

“I’m going to need you to put on some underwear!” he hisses and both their eyes go wide. She has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing at his mortification.

“I’m sorry, everyone. I’m watching my nephew,” he recovers fairly quickly, a little to her displeasure, “I’m going to have to dial back in once I take care of this.”

Luckily, he hasn’t moved her from his lap so she grinds back down for good measure. He presses down on the red button aggressively and tosses his phone on the table. Before she knows it, he has her pinned to the couch below him.

“Very funny,” he growls, and she’s happy to know there is no real malice in his voice.

“That’s what you get for the toilet seat.”

He laughs and pokes at her sides, “Is that the best you got, Griffin? Seducing me while I’m on the phone?”

She shrugs innocently and leans up to kiss him. She squeals in delight when he picks her up from the couch and throws her over his shoulder. 

“Shouldn’t you call them back?” she asks.

“I can think of something else I’d rather do.”

Like she said: passion.

anonymous asked:

Is there any chance that you'll do all hearts at once? If no then ❤ - Touken

sure!! :’D

❤: who is more affectionate in public? in private?
I think Kaneki is more affectionate in public. He’s been grabbing her hand all the time in the past chapters, while Touka prefers to be affectionate in private and keep things to themselves.

♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? secretly?
Kaneki is a hopeless romantic, i think that even if he’s shy at first, he’s always the one to give the first steps in terms of buying her a gift, or just have sweet details with her that look very corny but he’s trying his best, haha. Touka can be very romantic especially during/after intimacy 👀  i think she can get very emotional in those moments and throw a few corny words to make him happy.

❥: who is more likely to plan something big for valentine’s day?
Both 😂  but in very different ways. Kanek is planning something like a date and flowers and cake and candles, while Touka does something simple like writing him a love letter? or give him a book with a message written in the first page. 

ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public?
KANEKI, this is canon now 😂 😂 

💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people?
Kaneki… he literally said in front of everyone that both got married and he looked so happy&proud about it.

💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?
Touka, I think? because she wants to give him something he will love but doesn’t want to be way too corny about it. 

💓: who initiates most physical contact?
Toukachan 👀

💌: who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?
talking about texting… i wonder if they have phones? 😂  i never saw them using one… anyway, it would be Touka, definitely. 

💟: who spends time reading their zodiac compatibilities?
No one, tbh. I don’t think they worry about those things. 

💙: who is more protective?
Kaneki, obviously. 

💚: who tends to get sick more often? who is better at taking care of the other?
Kaneki looks like shit most of the time and Touka is pregnant right now so both are ruined, haha, so i think both are very protective with each other in that aspect.

💜: who said “i love you” first? or, if neither has said it yet, who is more likely to say it first?
Mmmh… Kaneki thought of it first but didn’t say it out loud, I think it could be him the one saying it first? but it could also be nice if Touka gives the first step and surprises him :o

💛: who believes in soulmates?
Kaneki 😂

anonymous asked:

What kinds of things would a German character call their loved ones? (nicknames, diminutives, etc.)

Hallihallöchen Nonnie!

What a cute question!

So, your German character wants to give their loved ones nicknames etc.? Wonderful! So, I made a list. Which is by no means exhaustive, because holy shit, there are so many variations and regional differences, that would have become way too long. (Though I certainly tried. Also, while there are lists online, some of the names listed there are so strange??)

Endearments for a significant other: Liebling (gender neutral)/ Liebste (female)/ Liebster (male) - “dearest”, Darling (gender neutral), Schatz (gender neutral) - “treasure, sweetheart”, (mein) Engel (gender neutral) - (my) angel (or the diminutive, Engelchen), Hase (gender neutral) - “rabbit”

Endearments for the character’s kids or grandchildren: Seriously, this is something family specific, like, so much. But often used are diminutives of animals, such as Fröschchen - “little frog”, Mäuschen - “little mouse”, Hummelchen - “little bumblebee” (all of those are gender neutral), my grandpa used to call me Fuchs or Füchschen - “fox” and its diminutive

Endearments for the character’s family: Mama/Mami - “Mum”, Papa/Papi - “Dad”, Oma/Omi - “Grandma”, Opa/Opi - “Granddad”, Cousinchen - diminutive of the female version of “cousin”, Schwesterlein/Schwesterchen - “little sister”, diminutives of Schwester “sister”, Brüderlein/Brüderchen - “little brother”, diminutives of Bruder “brother”

Endearments for other character’s kids: Unless you know the family well, you’d better not, but if you absolutely have to, use Spatz or the diminutive Spätzchen - “sparrow”/ “little sparrow” for small children, or Fratz - can be used like “brat” or with a positive connotation

Endearments for friends and acquaintances: Beste/ Bester - “bestie” (female/ male) for your best friend, Süße/ Süßer - “sweety” (female/ male) for a good friend or while flirting, Schöne/ Schöner - “beautiful” (female/ male) while flirting (and of course the abbreviation or variation of the friend’s name, for example Chrissie for either Christina or Christian, Eli for Elisabeth, Biene (“bee”) for Sabine etc.)

Those who don’t fit any of those categories/ are applicable to everyone: Grummelchen - for a person who is grumbling about something, Honigkuchenpferd/ Grinsekatze - for a person who looks particularly happy, Knuffelchen - a very cute person the character might want to snuggle, Kleine/ Kleiner/ Kleines - “small one” (female/ male/ “neutral”) for friends or members of the extended family younger than the character or children that are not the character’s

Hope this helps some!

Got a question about German stuff? Ask here!

P.S. (Personal Stories!): My Dad (and my Mum too) calls me “kleine Maus” (small mouse) or just “Mäuschen” (diminutive of “mouse”) and referring to both my younger brother and I “kleine Mäuse” (small mice) and my Mum is by extension the “große Maus” (big mouse); I call my younger brother Brüderlein and ever since he is taller than I am, he has taken to calling me Schwesterlein.

Got inspired by this art prompt:  Pick a series you like, pick two characters that you like. Now swap their character roles in the story and redesign their looks to match their new role.

Switched Atem and Mahad and I got a smol angry priest who tries to keep his king alive because goddammit the selfless man likes sacrificing himself way too much to be healthy. And a smug tol shit the Trickster King who uses magic to defeat his enemies and is often “hey it worked, right?” while Atem would say “of course, my lord, right after you almost bled to death”.

the signs on snapchat

aries: lots of quality of selfies, nature snaps, humble brags but in a cute way, all of the pet pictures, uses a lot of stickers, sends snaps to all their friends to remind them that they love them 

taurus: posts fifteen snaps every day on their story, knows they’re cute and makes sure everyone else knows they are too, love their friends and post about them on their story all the time

gemini: always posting pictures of their sig fig, has snap streaks with every person on their friend list, insanely high snap scores, take videos of their friends doing weird shit

cancer: doesn’t post on their story that often but when it is it’s 100 pictures in a row of their pet, saves all of their chats, don’t care if their selfies are ‘cute’ because they know they look great at all angles 

leo: treats snapchat like their personal blog and autobiography, keeps snap streaks alive no matter what, posts snaps on their story and also sends the same snaps to their friends to make sure everyone sees them

virgo: posts pictures of friend’s pets and cute dogs they see on the street, take several selfies and then caption them to tell a story, either v emotionally honest in their stories or not at all there’s no in-between

libra: 100% selfies, loves using all of the new snap filters when they come out, pictures of their sig fig so they can call them out on something funny they did that night, know they’re hot shit and want everyone else to know it too  

scorpio: sends selfies to all of their friends because they want that affirmation, funny stories, double and triple checks that they aren’t posting nudes onto their story, delete story snaps if they don’t get enough views

sagittarius: posts pretty aesthetic stories, snaps sunsets and sunrises, like to remind people that they have an active social life but not in an annoying way

capricorn: video stories about the weird adventures they’ve had, posts selfies when they’re feeling very confident about themselves which is all the time, all of their stories take three hours to flip through fully

aquarius: eighteen couple pictures in a row, know they’re super cute in selfies, think their pets are cuter than yours, their stories make them seem really put together purposefully even when their life is going to shit

pisces: live really crazy lives but only post about boring things on their story, take really great selfies but don’t post them that often, they have a lot of feelings and just want to publicly share them

autistic seekers?? autistic seekers

autistic seekers flapping their wings to stim, turning their turbines and thrusters on and off in exact intervals for the sensation of them stopping/starting, flying being a big stim . especially LOOPS. autistic seekers chirruping and chirring and clicking out rhythms, often w/o thinking about it. nonverbal seekers using only their wings and such to emote, and some of them being Very physically expressive in that way . autistic seekers who probably cant tell you shit abt anything except aerodynamics and stuff. autistic seekers having flight, the skies, space, science, military, etc etc as special interests. autistic seekers who hate being touched and use their wings to give them clearance space