#Because of objectification

[serenhob]

One thing people seem to forget is that the idea of 'conventional beauty' is not objective.

The beauty standard has been fluid throughout history and it is based on wealth and being unattainable.

Hundreds of years ago being fat was celebrated and a sign of beauty because that was a luxury of the rich.

Being pale was attractive because it meant you weren't doing physical labour. (+ racism as it was just another way to dehumanise and degrade people of colour).

The beauty standard of being skinny in the 90s was because cheaper food was generally unhealthy and the high quality vegetables, vitamins etc were very expensive and thus for rich people. (Tho specifically heroin chic was a glamorization and encouragement of drug use)

Having plastic surgery to create the 'perfect skinny hourglass' is the beauty standard now because plastic surgery is expensive.

Having to wear make up to be pretty is because it's expensive. Capitalism and rich people go hand in hand so giving you this to 'fix your flaws' is again just about money

Unattainability and showing wealth has always been the motive behind being beautiful as well as encouraging people to feel bad about themselves in order to get them to spend money to be seen as beautiful.

Also why people keep coming up with more and more outlandish things you need to buy to be pretty.

There is a reason people say 'you're not ugly, just poor'. Beauty is just another thing to make rich people feel superior.

<3

[xandyflare]

Warframe devs: Hey newbon, do you think you might want to come back for another character of ours?

Neil Newbon: I mean, you gave me a giant melodramatic fish last time, so I'm already intrigued

Warframe devs: It's a slutty military general with tattoos for days, one being a tramp stamp

Neil Newbon: I'm already in the recording booth

[mewjimewjimewji]

i love dungeon meshi and the way it views people in a way i grew to think no one else ever would. the way it frames bodies and nudity without it needing to be inherently sexual, and any fanservice or sexualization there is only feels very honest rather than perverse. the neutral way things like the harpies or humanoid monsters have exposed boobs and nipples. or the farcille bath scene being fanservice in a way but feeling intimate in an entirely different way than that to me. it feels so removed from the weight of the way others view people with beauty standards and other imposed characteristics—yet it paints people as beautiful around its own definition based on the way people actually are. the way it frames human beings as a whole, as living like any animal does with universal and inescapable needs. no matter how we see ourselves we still get hungry, we still get hurt, we still get sleepy, we still get thirsty. the characters have magic and anime fighting strength but remain as fragile as any living thing, being able to be killed in one shot. and every shape the different characters take with their diverse bodies is drawn with equal appreciation for their form. there are many things dungeon meshi feels passionate about, such as how clearly invested ryoko kui had to be in zoology and stuff for a lot of worldbuilding, but that wouldnt be complete without this touch too. i just love how much this series was clearly created by someone deeply in love with and invested in human beings.

[strawberrystepmom]

don’t get offended if i seem absent minded, just keep telling me facts and making me smile / and don’t get offended if i seem absent minded, i get tongue tied (x)

all of my thank you’s to @ruiaes for another beautiful piece! you captured the essence of what i wanted flawlessly as always.

[somereaderinblue]

Okay so maybe this is a little weird but when Telemachus gets older does he start to pick up on how messed up the situation his father is stuck in obviously being a child somethings go over his head but he's not completely oblivious to what is happening

If I took a shot everytime older!Telemachus looks back on certain childhood memories only to crash out as the full extent of the horrors hit him, my liver would be done for. It's mortifying being the one who remembers & if there's one memory that haunts Telemachus, it's this.

CW/TW: SA & non-con

Telemachus winced as Zeus Chrysaor's lightning crackled across the sky, accompanied by the roar of thunder. The weather has been horrible for three days straight, so bad that a truce had been struck so both sides could focus on surviving nature's forces instead of spears and arrows. Hestia Polýolvos received many prayers and libations as hearths were perpetually stoked. Charis had made sure to tuck Telemachus in a thicker blanket tonight.

Yet, the blanket could not ward off the slither of fear worming its way into Telemachus' stomach, tying itself into knots to further torment him.

'I'm a brave little wolf.' like his atta would call him, like the heroes from epic tales and songs.

'A brave little wolf.' He hugged Argos closer, hoping they could be brave little wolves together.

Another roar threatened to shake the aegean. He peeked out of the blanket and his eyes widened as for a fraction of a second, the lightning struck, spawning terrifying shadows throughout his room. Telemachus could still see them even after darkness reclaimed the entirety of this space. He wonders if they saw him too, wonders if they wanted him to see them.

.

.

.

Him and Argos can be brave little wolves with atta.

"Full speed ahead, Argos." Telemachus whispered to his companion before nudging the door open.

Sneaking to the room atta shared with Pari was a familiar game and Telemachus was a very good player. In no time, he reached his destination but much to his confusion, the doors weren't closed properly. Odd, they were always shut.

Moving closer, Telemachus peeked through the gap and-

(Pandora opened the box. Out came misery, out came sadness, out came suffering, out came all the terrible evils of the world.)

There was no lightning to paint the room in vivid detail this time, only the glow of candlelight. It softened the edges to an almost dreamlike quality. Telemachus felt like he was underwater, except this time, he didn't feel safe or calm at all.

Atta was standing in the room. Naked. The beautiful silks sliding down his calves to pool around his ankles. The pearls around his neck and shoulders look heavy. Telemachus wishes he took those off instead of his clothes. Why isn't he wearing his clothes? It's not bath time right now. It's so cold, his atta should be wrapped in a blanket, like him. Isn't he cold?

Pari is lounging on a kline, fully clothed, nursing a chalice of wine between his ringed fingers. There's a bowl of pomegranates beside him, the spilled seeds remind Telemachus of scraped knees. He's smiling as if he's watching something nice, like a dance. Or maybe it's his atta. Pari always finds him very nice and very pretty, he loves him after all.

Atta loves Telemachus too.

But Atta's love doesn't make Telemachus feel like this. Like he's-

Like he's doing something he shouldn't, like he shouldn't here, like this is wrong, like he wants this to not happen and never exist-

Goosebumps prickle across Telemachus' skin. He's cold. He's so, so cold. So cold it burns, so cold he wants to throw himself into fire to get rid of it.

Gripping Argos tight, he hurries back to his room, no longer a wolf stalking through the night but a scared little boy running from something he just knew to be wrong. He slips into his room and wraps the blanket around himself as tight as possible, trying to smother the goosebumps.

'I'm sorry.' he doesn't know who he's apologizing to or what he's apologizing for. But he says it again. 'I'm sorry.'

Outside, the storm rages on. Inside, the shadows appear time and again, always there, always watching Telemachus. Telemachus stares back.

He's not afraid of them anymore.

They weren't half as scary as what he just saw.

He doesn't know why that scared him. There had been no one else in that room, no monsters or animals or intruders. Just his atta and Pari, who've been together since he was born. Why did that scare him?

He didn't know why. Not knowing was the scariest part of all.

.

.

.

The next morning, atta hugged Telemachus and he hugged him back, relieved that his body was clothed and warm. They ate breakfast and Pari smiled at Telemachus, offering him a pomegranate.

Telemachus flinched. No, he said. I never want to see that fruit ever again, he thought.

Telemachus pressed his face into atta's clothed chest and prayed that his heart would never know what Telemachus saw last night.

[nothing-but-paisley]

Thinking about Armand's canonical obsession with Blade Runner, a movie about beautiful androids that look and sound human but are not. For autism reasons.

[4lph4kidz]

chat do we see the vision. perchance

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

fuckg fuck fuckg but “[bad]’s one of my favourite people, too. he gives me stuff” “is that all he is to you?” drives me insane because NO. HES NOT. he’s also a reflection of all the worst things tina doesnt want to be. a demon a monster. at home in purgatory. missing that home. he torments her for fun. he teases her and plays. he is probably like her, even more than mouse- fallen angels. made demonic. evil.

“Bad is one of my favourite people. He gives me stuff.” what sort of demon just gives things away. what sort of demon makes bad deals they know wont see full fruition. im obsessed with that, with her focusing in on one of his most helpful traits, and THAT one specifically. she sees the parts of herself that she hates in him. he loves her. he’s a resource for her. she loves him. he reflects the worst parts of herself. look at where she draws the line, where she compartmentalizes. they are the same and he’s her favourite despite that. because he gives her stuff.

[buttered-toasty]

Forging of the Ring/The Proposal/Reflections of Self

.

.

Till death do us part? You’re not getting out of this that easily.

And with that I think I’m done with my little marriage series (as I have been calling my bigger Sauron pieces)! I will post them all together sometime. Happy Halloween and remember not to separate out parts of your soul for the making of cursed jewelry!

Bonus thing with some extra portraiture under the cut, idk

[momentomori24]

Something I really love about The Smitten is how despite the fact that he's all talk about true love and genuine adoration he's... not at all about that. From his perspective, he's the dashing, dreamy heroic knight whose one mission is to rescue beautiful, pure, fair damsels in distress. To him, the princess isn't a person with her own personality and dreams and agency. She's an object he views as a trophy wife, a defenseless woman in need of saving, an idealised entity he can project his fantasies on.

And his route-- The Damsel route-- is such a good example of that. This route is the one route (that I know of) where the Princess is practically a blank slate. Where Thorn desperately craved connection, Adversary was itching for mutual rivalry and violence, Prisoner patiently waited for her freedom and Razour just joyfully chased the enjoyment of cutting us into pieces, the Damsel doesn't have anything to her outside of us. She's a helpless, obedient maiden whose only wants are what we want. She wants to destroy the world or she doesn't want to destroy the world or she doesn't care about the world depending on how we feel. This whole charade, no matter how much we want it to, is not about her. It's about us. Because she only exists as a contruction of our own wants. She isn't a person. She's an ideal. A blank canvas. Something to mold into whatever we want.

And that sense of security we felt, the trust we had in her and the image of the perfectly normal, genuinely innocent and real princess we met and fell in love with before the beginning of this route withered away and seeds of skeptisim were planted in its stead. And when we continued to press and push and question for her own desires or aspirations the illusion finally breaks, leaving us with the realisation that we never knew her at all. Because there was never anything to her from the start anyway.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

do people legitimately not know that japan has some really fucking puritanical censorship laws that fuck over a lot of erotica creators and limit artistic freedom or do people just assume that bc they’re not the exact same as ours they clearly don’t exist and japanese people all must be pervert freaks. bc i have seen a lot of people ignore the fact that japanese media is in fact also victim to censorship.

[maddening-music]

honestly my biggest goal with canto is that i want soft but still very fucked up dom behavior. harper my beloved can be so sweet so gentle but he's so distant i have to just bank on getting the shower scene in the asylum to sate my wicked desires. canto WILL feed and bathe and clothe you and they WILL be incredibly affectionate and gentle and doting the entire time this is my earnest promise .

[cervinae-canine]

i wished mouthwashing didn't break containment...i really do

[aluminium-13]

Do you ever find a post made by a trans woman talking about their experiences and then look at the notes and go 'Y'all need to be sent to horny jail for real'

Like im a Lesbian, i love trans women i would love a trans girlfriend they are incredible, and maybe I'm just realy not that horny but there's a point where you need to look at the person sending a heartfelt message to the comunity or just having a serious discussion and dial it all the fuck down

Same goes for fat girls btw

[non4ry]

you believe me like a god (i’ll betray you like a man)

[synthetic-sonata]