loethefox

[loethefox]

desegregate all sports now. no more gendered sports. its stupid

if you absolutely must, in primarily muscle force-based sports, create competitive classes like in boxing except separated by body comp, not just pure body weight. i mean, if you must. this will eliminate any tiny advantages in muscle mass. some will say basketball should have height classes but frankly some of the NBA's most impressive players were not tall so idk that this actually matters ever

the primary athletic impediment to all women is overwhelmingly cultural and psychological. i have won probably half the physical competitions with cis men that i have engaged in, friendly or otherwise. even without the benefit of a lifetime of people trying to make me throw or hit balls, i have won wrestling matches, sparring matches, funny backyard foam sword fights, video games, equestrian activities, dance, endurance tests of various kinds, etc. i'm small and weak. men think theyre stronger and more skilled than they are, women think the opposite about themselves

humans just arent that differently-sized or -shaped, as a species. we have almost no sexual dimorphism at all compared to the vast majority of other mammals.

animals that have similar levels of sexual dimorphism to humans, for example cats, dogs, and horses, do not generally have competitive events segregated by sex. the dog agility trials dont normally have separate leagues for male and female dogs (gendered competitions exist they're just unusual). because it doesnt matter. there is no kentucky derby 2 just for girl horses. thats not a thing

remove all gendered categories from online shopping websites and universalize clothing and shoe sizing. im sick of having to search two entirely different sections of ebay when im just trying to find a nice velvet loafer in size 39 EU. what the hell is "women's clothing"

[loethefox]

Oh it's everrryywhere. I can't hate, that's not fair to strangers on the internet having fun but like ranchers have interacted like 10x less than smallidarity and zedango and skizztek (yes I'm counting plate up streams) and yet people flock to it because life series fame. It's a bit sad.

Oh plus when so many fans forget that Tango is so much older? Like that's a FEATURE man. It's like the thing that stands out about it the most but you portrayed them both like they're in their 20s like c'mon.

this is the closest i'll get to posting about my feelings about how people treat the ranchers in the fandom, and while i truly don't get the need to put that ship above all other jimmy pairings/relationships, my biggest gripe has always been how tango's other relationships get pushed to the sidelines in favor of them. like skizz. ESPECIALLY skizz.

[loethefox]

My pen breaking in half isn't going to stop me from zedangoing it up 🙏🙏

[loethefox]

ZITS WoF fic

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,256

Tango sat curled in the golden sunlight, wings outstretched to catch every warm ray filtering through the canopy above. The scales along his back shimmered with a soft, almost glowing heat—comforting, not dangerous, though they radiated enough warmth to keep the dew from settling around him. He shifted slightly, sighing contentedly as his talons flexed against the mossy ground. Nearby, Impulse was half-immersed in a scroll, his eyes scanning the neat rows of script with practiced ease. His brow occasionally furrowed in concentration, and his tail swayed gently behind him in thoughtful rhythm.

Skizz was draped lazily across Zedaph, clearly caught between sleep and wakefulness. One of his wings twitched every now and then as if he were dreaming, and a soft snore slipped from his open mouth. Zedaph, whose scales were the sandy gold of a desert storm mixed with the rich brown of riverbanks, remained still beneath him—until he sneezed abruptly, sending a startled flutter through the air. The sudden jolt was enough to stir Skizz, who grumbled and rolled, landing half on top of Tango’s back with a muffled thump.

Tango let out a small “oof,” his wings shifting slightly under the unexpected weight, but he didn’t protest. He merely glanced back at Skizz with an amused expression before letting his eyes drift closed again. It was becoming a familiar arrangement, this casual pile of limbs and scales—especially with MudWings and their hybrids, who seemed to have an instinctual preference for sleeping close, curled into one another for warmth and comfort. Tango had noticed it long ago. Maybe it was a leftover trait from the marshes, where heat was precious and bonds even more so.

Zedaph, ever the restless one, stirred after a few minutes. He gently shook Skizz off, rose to his feet, and gave his wings a wide stretch that caught the sunlight and made his sandy hues glitter. With barely a word, he leapt into the sky and glided off toward his nearby base, tail trailing behind like a golden ribbon.

Skizz mumbled something incoherent, shifted once more, and ended up flopped half over Tango’s side. His wing hung awkwardly off the edge of Tango’s back, but Tango just huffed a short laugh through his nose and stayed put.

Impulse finally looked up from his scroll and tapped it with a talon. “It says here that fire scales are genetic,” he began, glancing over at Tango, “but the trait can lie dormant for generations. It’s an imbalance, apparently, in the fire-producing genes—whatever that means exactly.” His tail flicked instinctively, curling just slightly closer to Tango, brushing lightly against the warmer scales at his side. “Still doesn’t say whether a dragon born from a flamescales parent has a higher chance of inheriting it or not…”

He tilted the scroll, studying the lines with a puzzled frown, then pointed again. “Here—it talks about SkyWing mutations, but nothing about hybrids. I mean, your scales don’t burn, but they’re definitely hotter than normal. Warm enough to make the grass steam if you lie still too long. That’s not just from lying in the sun.”

Tango cracked one eye open, a slow grin spreading across his snout. “Thanks, I guess?”

Impulse snorted. “It’s not a compliment. It’s just weird.” But there was no heat in his voice, just curiosity.

They’d been speculating for a while—ever since Tango had melted the edge of a frozen stream just by dipping a wingtip in it. The current theory was that somewhere in his ancestry, a fireproof MudWing had paired with a SkyWing carrying the rare, dangerous flamescales trait. The result, maybe, was him: warm, but not deadly; smoldering, but safe. It was hard to tell. Genetics weren’t exactly a clear-cut science when it came to dragons, especially hybrids.

“Maybe you’re like… half fireproof, half fire hazard,” Impulse mused aloud.

“Like a really cozy bonfire,” Skizz added sleepily, his voice muffled against Tango’s shoulder.

Tango let out a laugh, the sound low and easy.

Zedaph returned from the sky with a soft whoosh of wings, his descent graceful despite the weight of what he carried. In his talons was something large and warm—fresh, clearly—its scent catching in the breeze long before he touched down. As he landed, the ground trembled slightly under the weight of both dragon and prey, and he gently set it down in the middle of their sun-dappled clearing. It was a cow, still faintly steaming from the chase, its fur ruffled and body whole. Zedaph stood for a moment, wings folding back tightly, breathing a little harder than usual.

He looked like a SandWing in shape—lean, long-limbed, with a pointed snout and that signature tail barb—but his scales were a rich blend of golden and earthen brown, more textured than glossy. The sun caught on the ridges of his spine, highlighting the subtle mottling that hinted at his MudWing lineage.

Before anyone could comment, Skizz gave a low grunt, rolled over lazily onto his feet, and stomped toward the cow with a gleam in his eye. He was more awake now, hunger overriding whatever drowsy state he’d been in. Without hesitation, he chomped into the side of the carcass, tearing into the warm flesh with a satisfied growl.

Impulse, still seated by his scroll, gave an exaggerated stretch that made his spine pop. His four wings unfurled like a banner catching the wind, buzzing softly in synchrony before folding neatly again against his back. He blinked once, then stood and padded toward the meal, casting a glance at Zedaph as he passed but saying nothing yet.

Tango hesitated only briefly before rising as well. His joints clicked as he straightened, warmth still radiating gently off his scales like the fading heat of a sun-baked rock. He fell into step beside Impulse, though his eyes kept flicking toward Zedaph.

They settled into a loose circle around the food, eating in that comfortable, familiar silence dragons shared when words weren’t needed—or maybe, when they were being avoided.

Tango tore off a piece with practiced ease, but his gaze drifted. He’d noticed it earlier—Zedaph had been unusually quiet since sunrise. No odd jokes, no over-the-top theories or half-serious commentary about the color of the clouds. Just silence. There was a stillness in his posture, a subtle tension in the way his wings were tucked too tightly against his sides. He hadn’t even snapped back when Skizz called him “the golden ground noodle” earlier.

Tango debated whether to say something. The words sat on the edge of his tongue, uncertain. He could ask, but if it was something Zedaph didn’t want to talk about, would bringing it up just make it worse? Or awkward? The last thing he wanted to do was push.

So instead, he leaned down and took another bite, letting the rich flavor fill the space where words might have gone.

Around them, the clearing buzzed softly with the sounds of insects and distant birds. The sun was beginning to dip a little lower, casting longer shadows and bathing the group in a warm, amber light. Skizz was already working on dragging a leg to his side of the carcass, humming some half-formed tune under his breath between mouthfuls. Impulse, ever the multitasker, was trying to read while chewing, holding his scroll up with one talon, which earned him a faintly amused look from Tango.

But Zedaph... Zedaph just ate quietly, eyes focused somewhere in the distance, as if watching something only he could see.

Tango made a mental note to ask later—when it felt right.

[loethefox]

i love characters who aren't 'real' in-story

Characters who are illusions, or hallucinations. They do not exist, except to the small fraction of time when another character percieves them, /creates them/, entirely in their own head. And when they fade away, leaving absolutely no trace of their existence save for the one person who perceived them, and the fact that they aren't real and never were has to be faced. Their smile, their choices, their kindness, their deceit was nothing more than a deluded fragment of imagination.

[loethefox]

This clip is extremely important. Btw.

[loethefox]

Hug hug fall in love!!!!!!!

Zed hugging (again... for the second time) for the 16 Zedango fans

Me when the consequences of my own actions

[loethefox]

Cleo is like me :3

Chapter 19

I dont really know what to say, erm enjoy the chapter

PREV// MASTERPOST // NEXT

If you like what we do, feel free support me on Ko Fi !

[loethefox]

This went in a different direction than I expected

[loethefox]

When ur mutuals w/ some cool ass people rb if u agree

[loethefox]

it's time for top/bottom discourse to end. the only thing i want to hear about is which one is the sex crier.

[loethefox]

DO YOU GET THE LAST REFERENCE DO YOU GET IT DO Y-

so i saw people making these memes and i decided to make my own! i think they're really fun but that might just be me lol

also this one that i find hilarious but is very niche so it might not make sense:

[loethefox]

EVERYONE(!) I’m blazing this post because at this pace we might barely hit 1,000,000 signatures—or just fall short. PLEASE reblog this post, no matter where you are from, so we can reach as many EU citizens as possible and end this horrible practice!

[loethefox]

CUTIESSSSSSSSSSS

Zedango for their like 5 fans, all of whom are me.

They're hugging not smoochin it just kinda looks like they are. But they're not. They're hugging. I mean unless you want them to be then you do you I guess I don't judge

[loethefox]

Zed says shit in this one lads.!!! rejoivce!

HELLO???

[loethefox]

Aye,! Chaotic good alignment & chaotic good titles! (Also done one word)

Alignment Chart of Ways To Title a Fic On AO3

[loethefox]

listen to me, really. I am holding your two hands tenderly in mine. being part of a privileged group and benefitting from systemic exploitation without meaning to is not the same thing as being an inherently trash person who makes the world worse by living it in. that's not what that means. I'm telling you this for two reasons, 1) so you can chill the fuck out and be at peace with yourself without feeling like you're draining the universe of value, and 2) so you don't go onto oppressed people's posts about systemic privilege and exploitation and react like they've just told you that you, personally, should not exist because you're a man who lives within the vicinity of a supermarket that sells chiquita bananas. you're just gonna have to put some trust into your own brain and hold on to both the ideas that you're on one of the dominant sides of a set of global scales of injustice and that you don't have to shrivel out of existence about it. it can be difficult to reconcile those ideas at first, but it's completely possible and worth doing. if you don't, then you start constructing a worldview where you believe that either you have a civic duty to self destruct or you start vehemently denying that these systems of oppression exist, both of which are Bad and Not Good. peace and love x