#and the lack of communication is honestly fucking laughable

[rat-tomago]

i think i would rather eat glass garnished with rat poison than go 2 work 2day

[kingkatsuki]

you are a whole ass weirdo for blocking people out of nowhere for not REBLOGGING your stuff 😭😭😭 you are one of the most popular blogs in the whole mha fandom, you gotta be kidding you don't even lack the reach or the platform, i didn't peg you for being this interaction hungry

Hihihi! You’re clearly very upset that I’ve blocked you for not supporting content creators by reblogging their fics. I’m really sorry that you won’t be able to be a silent follower anymore, but maybe you can check out my ao3 instead if you just want to silently consume content without clicking any buttons.

The reason why I block people who don’t reblog fanfics (as I’ve mentioned a million times before it doesn’t have to be my fanfics, doesn’t even have to be bnha fandom) is because you bring absolutely nothing to fandom or the fandom community. There’s no point you following me, so I just block you to make myself more comfortable.

The people I’ve blocked for being blank blogs or not reblogging content that have messaged me have all been unblocked after supporting writers/artists. And honestly most of them have never reblogged any of my fics, and I’m okay with that… because they’re supporting someone.

There’s gotta be someone on this website that you hold above all else, that whenever they post they put a smile on your face? That bring you comfort when you’re having a bad day? That you actively look at their page first, like a morning newspaper or you think of randomly throughout the day like “oh, this was in ____’s fic,” … you don’t even want to support your most favourite author/artist?

It’s nothing to do with my “reach” or my “platform”. I’m a nerdy woman who reads and writes fanfic in my spare time, not David Attenborough. But regardless of whether I have 1 follower or 100,000 followers I, like every other creator that posts their stuff online (musicians, artists, writers, even fucking tiktokers) want feedback on my work! Even if it’s just an empty reblog or a quick comment “that was great” “good job” it means so much more than a like on a fic.

We’ve spoken about this before on tumblr but the like to reblog ratios on fanfics (and other content) is laughable. A fic with 5000 notes might only have 200 reblogs and 5 comments, and the lack of feedback will result in the creator wondering if it was even worth posting, if it’s even worth them posting again.

This is the reason why people stop creating, and it’s not just in the fanfic community. What do you think happens when your favourite musicians music flops, or your favourite TV show doesn’t bring in the ratings? People stop making, they stop producing. It’s the same shit with fanfics.

The fanfiction that you’re so mindlessly consuming takes time and effort. There’s a real person behind the screen gifting you their piece of art for free, and you don’t have time to click a button?

I’ve said it before, and I’ll continue to say it. I’m incredibly lucky I have the friends and followers that I do on this website, people that comment on my fics and reblog with the loveliest tags. Even the ones that are too shy to interact with me, I see your usernames in my notifs whenever you reblog something. But I know a lot of friends and followers do not get that same luxury, there are writers who pour their heart and soul into writing on here and get no likes, no reblogs and no comments. But people like you are reading and enjoying their fics.

How many times have you wished you got a part two to a fic? Or a new fic from an author who stopped writing? I know for people like you it’s easy to click out and just find something else to read, but I’ve lost some of my favourite authors on here because people like you won’t even click a button.

I deserve interaction, all the other creators on here deserve interaction.

TL;DR — You’re selfish, and I don’t want you following me💕

[theangryjikooker]

Hi, I came across your blog in the tags. I'm queer myself and my ask is truly genuine: If you don't believe Jikook are necessarily a couple, why do you have a blog named after them, and based on a 50-50 chance they are? If you don't think a celebrity couple are dating, why not simply keep it moving? Judging from the last few posts that came up in the tag, you seem to put a lot of effort into discounting certain exchanges between Jungkook and Jimin (thirst trap vid, etc), and even their consistent dynamics over the years as -not- meaning they're a couple. It's just strange to me that someone who's -not- queer chooses to blog about a perceived lack of coupledom between two men, whether they're actually together or queer or not. Of course in theory, it's your blog and you can do whatever you want with it. I'm just taken aback by a cishet person providing their opinion on people (most likely) within a community (LGBT+) they don't belong to.

I'm not sure when shipping (in regards to RPS) became synonymous with believing two people are dating. Shipping, as I have long understood it (at least from a fictional standpoint), was always meant to be a show of support for two individuals who you would think would look and/or be good together for whatever reasons deemed. Now, maybe in the RPS space this is completely different, but I'm not going to mold my participation into whatever anyone says it should be. Shipping should be maintained as a hobby. That people take it so seriously as to question anyone else's motives that don't align with the majority is utterly ridiculous.

I named it after Jikook because, in my mind, I am a Jkkr. I like them and the way they interact with one another. I don't have to think they're dating to consider myself someone who enjoys their dynamic and who wouldn't mind if they became official. But because this involves real life people, there are obvious boundaries I refuse to cross that many others probably clearly don't care too much about. To each their own.

Thanks for assuming my sexuality, which I find incredibly rude and almost hypocritical, considering I've encountered many like you in the Jkkr space who act quite defensive about assuming sexualities but will clearly do so with others (namely, perceived cishets). This whole thing is laughable, really. Honestly, maybe I would've been kinder in response, but this is so insulting and, quite frankly, disgusting of you. I've had people question me on this before, of which I've stated that I personally identify as bisexual but that it might be more accurate to state that I'm pan. To a far lesser degree, I think it's odd that RPS can be gatekept from others solely based on their sexuality. People like you are the reason why the hypocrisy of shipping communities makes me sick.

Screw being nice. Don't drop into my asks with fake goodwill, just don't. I respect other people who are just aggressively confrontational because at least they're showing who they are. Not this bullshit of being "genuine" but then acting like it's an affront to your fandom activities that a perceived cishet is interested in the same thing as you are–and then being entirely wrong about it.

You're embarrassing.

Edited to add: Don’t be an asshole and assume people’s sexual identities. Consider the implications of this, by the way, and this is something I shouldn’t have to say at all to anyone who identifies as queer. Why the fuck would you put someone in a position to have to identify themselves? It’s a good thing it’s just me because I don’t give a shit, but imagine if you did this to someone who wasn’t ready to be so public about it? Fucking unbelievable.

[fairycosmos]

do you think constantly complaining about our circumstances actually elongates the grief we feel? that we only make this hole of self pity deeper? but then again how does one take a more proactive approach to the lack of happiness in their life?

HI so i actually don't think so. because grief is impossible to elongate, it's permanent and "always there" no matter how you approach it in your mind. and like yeah i'm the first to admit i love wallowing and being bitter. i'm the worlds most irritated and repressed woman or whatever BUT i will say i think people who automatically see us trying to communicate our mourning / pain as "complaining" really just do not have a clue what it's like. i get it sometimes on here, that i'm making things worse for myself by hyper-focusing on the heaviness, and i get it but i also don't. i'm going to comment on the way my life is forever changed for as long as i'm alive. i'm going to be sad and angry and i'm going to scream about it, and i don't care if it's annoying or repetitive or a downer. it is for me too. the worst thing that could have possibly happened happened, and it's laughable that i'm not even allowed to cry about it without being judged or analysed or whatever the fuck. like god forbid we have negative things to say about a negative situation? there's an undeniable validity to that feeling, there's an undeniable validity to the pain and the only reason people don't want to hear that is because it makes them uncomfortable - understandably. but in my own space i am going to say what i need to say when i need to say it and let it be the most self pitying pathetic little thing you've ever heard every time! who cares. i don't like the performance of looking like i have it together, like i'm above it all and can handle it through the power of my own wisdom. like i'm "that girl" who can outsmart trauma through my little witticisms and my deep breathing and my emotional maturity. it's literally just not true so let me air out my grievances with the world instead -  even if it is kind of convoluted, pitiful and self serving at times.

i suppose i just really don't see the value in trying to be all faux positive about something so deeply hurtful when that's not how i actually feel about the way things are - and i'm not sure why i'm supposed to? i think outsiders looking in on this sort of thing are kind of estranged from the true scope of grief, how far and deep it runs, how inescapable it is. listen, i'm not saying that there's no danger in perpetually licking your own wounds. and god knows the victim mindset can and will choke you and everyone around you to death if you let it. i become more and more aware of how pointless it is as the years pass honestly. also, there's definitely peace to be found in trying to take a more proactive approach (i think what that looks like wildly varies not only from person to person but also from day to day, maybe moment to moment.) but i also think there's a difference between complaining just to complain, and actually trying to talk about the absolute and endless pain that you're somehow supposed to carry while functioning normally. i say scream as much as you want, just keep it self aware and somewhat regulated for realities sake, which i mean it sucks to have to do that but yeah. and definitely seek a lot of therapy if possible, or at the very least keep it as a viable option in your mind. i don't spill my guts and demand a pity party from everyone i meet, i barely have a genuine conversation fucking ever to preserve other people's feelings/time. but on here and in diaries and in art (lol) i'm going to lose my mind about how awful shit is however much i want to in any given moment. something something my god given right

[radfem-gossip]

I seriously never thought that I would have to call out ageism towards a THIRTY YEAR OLD. Like holy shit y’all really think that once you hit thirty you suddenly don’t remember how to use social media anymore? They’re too feeble minded at THIRTY to run a blog? It’s honestly laughable that these little 22 year old barely-adults think that their words matter more than someone who is eight years older than them? Thirty is not old, but I’m wondering if any of you have ever shut the fuck up and listened to radfems who *are* “older.” Do you mistreat these women? Have you met them? Have you spoken to anyone who heard Andrea Dworkin speak? Do you think that you, at 22 years old, have the life experience to be speaking over actual grown adults? Or are you so self obsessed that you think you have nothing to learn from radfems who are (oftentimes barely) older than you? Do you think a woman’s brain stops functioning at 30, or that she should stay in her lane, join a knitting club, and give up on activism altogether? Are we to that point. Are we at the fucking point that a thirty year old millennial is too senile to be involved in feminism? Ageism. Towards a 30 year old. Like I just want that to sink in and I want you to know how truly stupid you are. Say what you want about ibh but being 30 is not a personality flaw. You’re little fucking children if you think this way. Sorry if I don’t take a 21 year old “radfem’s” opinions seriously. Y’all lack life experience. Your brain is not even done developing, yet you think what you have to say is more valuable than anyone not in their 20’s. You idiots. You absolute little idiots. Don’t worry. By the time you’re 30 there will be plenty of young adults telling you what a useless old bag you are and then you’ll understand. In the mean time I urge you to seek out actual elders in your community for guidance. I think you’ll find that most of them won’t be wasting their time screeching at anonymous people on the internet about what sexuality they aren’t, so maybe they will seem like lesser beings to you, but maybe your shallow little brains will be able to pick up something useful.

.

[littlebabycrybtch]

tbh... we have absolutely FAILED ppl with ea/ting disor.ders so fucking unimaginably bad, especially the visibly underweight ones. and we are still failing them to this day by avoiding valuable education out of discomfort and demonization. its genuinely appalling sometimes, to see just how Dangerously ignorant ppl are about this shit. bros listen 2 me rn. you are not a doctor, and you are Not going cure an ed with your almost laughably ignorant and malicious ‘reverse psychology’ bit where you call someone an ugly skeleton knocking on deaths door whos body needs to be banned from instagram forever, because you’re just ‘so scared theyre gonna die’ or w/e so you can legit pretend they dont exist, holy fucking Shit dude. that shame-and-shun tactic is so unbelievably dangerous. like, if you knew Anything REAL abt these disorders or frankly any mental health issues and cared enough to apply that then you would understand how thats just... pure cruelty. im sorry to be blunt but yeah this isnt a joke, it needs to be said that you are easily going to KILL SOMEONE with that kind of unfiltered uneducated IGNORANCE. it is inexcusably selfish, harmful, and ableist behavior, we have to stop this already.

imo there’s a Lot to be said about the toxicity spiral thats become the pro recovery movement and how much it rejects and speaks over the people its Supposed to support, becoming more about ‘anti symptoms’ than pro anything, but if you are gonna understand Anything new today at least learn this;;; hating yourself at unhealthy is Never ever going to be the key to loving yourself at healthy. being ashamed of yourself FOR being unhealthy, will NOT make you healthier, it’ll make you worse every time. im not tryna be mean but honestly how the actual FUCK do yalls brains work, it is SO wildly damaging to let yourself perpetuate this type of mindset, and then still claim pro recovery or w/e like recovery doesnt have to start at unhealthy??? like itll just happen overnight??? like that’ll help??? like if ppl catch you displaying symptoms of the disorder you LITERALLY HAVE, you arent allowed to talk abt it in any form without intense open negativity towards it and yourself, so ppl know ur definitely totally against it tho and not enabling urself, bc if you dont talk abt ur shame and embarrassment for it that means you arent recovering and need a mob after you??? thats how you think people are gonna get better????

ffs dont try to viciously shame yourself out of bad habits and treat your disorders like taboo, respect and love yourself wholly, the good and the bad, if you want to form better habits!!! ppl NEED to be encouraged to love themselves at unhealthy if they ever want to improve. you are not going to accidentally make them worse by not constantly shaming all their ‘flaws’, they are not MADE of ‘flaws’. by showing support for the mentally ill, you are not fucking supporting their ‘symptoms’, you are a supporting THE FUCKING PERSON EXPERIENCING THEM. and you DESPERATELY NEED TO DO THAT!! there is MORE TO THEM than their symptoms! there are things to COMPLIMENT them on besides their body! its gotten to this point that like. ppl are actually Afraid of just being nice to ppl with eds. they dont even wanna treat them like Humans outside of their disorder, all they see is a disorder. everyone is just SO afraid of ‘enabling’ them by not being vocally against their symptoms that they avoid them like the plague and dont even try to build them up, which is what they fucking need more than anything dude!! 

ppl think refusing to ever let an underweight person feel pretty or love their body where they are at is what they need and will force them to recover, or they think giving them goals like ‘you’ll be so much happier with a bigger body’ and ‘keep going one day you wont look so sick’ is at all different than their own internal dialogue, when the Truth (that people need to fucking know by now!), is that shame with mental health is incredibly dangerous, eds are diverse but theyre most often rooted in starvation as a form of self harm from an unwavering self hatred and feeling of failure or lack of control, one they already have deeply ingrained and will usually feel at Any Size, which is why so many feel unsatisfied and keep going and going till they die. the answer to this problem isnt gonna be inflicting more fucking self hate or pressure. thats gasoline on a fire. you cannot just try and. UNO REVERSE CARD THE ~RULES~ OF THEIR FUCKING MENTAL DISORDER and expect RECOVERY... oh my god dude, please, id laugh out loud if this wasnt so malicious.

listen, if you wanna help, like actually Care about Helping the way you claim the root of your attitude is, you need to make that person feel like they can love themselves, not try to make them ‘realize’ how ‘bad’ they are and how uncomfortable and scared they make you and how Not Allowed their behavior is, bc 1. body dysmorphia is a delusion,,, denial is a common association with addictive/self destructive behaviors,,,, you are going about it wrong if thats the first thing you try to accomplish, and 2. whether you like it or not ‘bad’ is gonna be your first checkpoint! who would be motivated to get better when all you’re doing is giving them an already failing grade and pushing them back??? 

you’re all just... so paralyzed by ignorant fear every time you interact with someone with an ed bc you are so fucking detached from it as a concept, but you wont LEARN how to BEHAVE AROUND THESE PPL! LIKE! and then you claim you act this way ‘because you care'. ok then why do you feel like you dont have to listen or learn??? why dont you see these tactics as needlessly cruel when its explained??? bc oh you cant ‘’’’’trust’’’’ ppl with eds to tell You how to help Them, right??? they’re probably lying, you know better than them ofc. smhhh, every other mental illness community gets to speak for themselves to the ppl without their experiences and therefore the ability to hurt them, sure, but not the sneaky ed people, they created pr.0/a.na/, (the ONLY existing space for encouraging mentally ill ppl in self destructive behaviors, obviously), so they dont know what they need, they have to be Told by Normal people bc their irrational brains are Just Too Broken. (/s)............ like.............?? it is Sooo fuckin prejudiced and disgusting tbh. we gotta do better than this. 

eds are almost completely left out of communities for mental health these days. its seriously so disappointing. if you ACTUALLY ‘care’, then ok you need to swallow your pride and do better, you need to Listen and not let your personal discomforts (genuine triggers excluded!) with their appearance or behaviors get in the way of how humanized and committed your decent treatment of their disorder is. tbr, sometimes you arent just ‘concerned’ about a person, sometimes how you go about your feelings is rooted in your inner urge to validate your own discomforts with them, which means it might end up more about you than about them, which hurts them. i mean for the love of god, these ppl are not ‘irresponsible’ for existing around others with their ~unhealthy bodies~, they are not a walking trigger and cant be treated like one, they arent contagious, they will not benefit mentally from hearing you say you think they should be physically banned from posting selfies or w/e, that isolation WONT prevent eds from ~~~spreading~~~ and will severely harm the person in question, you are not making a heroic decision to try and bully them away to ‘save’ others from ever being around them or save them from being around an “enabling” (supportive recovery/not shameful) community. you are not ‘fixing’ them by making them hate their underweight bodies. you’re LITERALLY just ignorant and prejudiced and ableist, your ideas are actually Very harmful, you are not a savior, you are making it worse, plain and simple. Please just start doing better already, its kind of a life or death situation here

[mandoinevarro]

Cara’s Restless Week

Words: 4k

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut, vaginal intercourse, masturbation, voyeurism, choking, cuckolding? Not sure :/ 

a/n: I’m once again ignoring baby yoda. He’s at a sleepover at Omera’s, also he and all children go deaf at night, don’t worry about them. 

Cara Dune can’t sleep.

The night is still and warm, and the steady rhythm of drizzle batting against the roof of her shelter would’ve been enough to lull her to sleep under any other circumstances. Even the crickets outside seem to have fallen into a uniform, soothing symphony.

And yet, Cara can’t sleep.

She’s no stranger to restless nights—Maker, she’s no stranger to restless weeks, but she never thought she’d have bedtime troubles inside a comfortable bungalow in Sorgan, days after they’ve driven away the threats to the peaceful community. She tosses and turns on her cot, presses a straw pillow against her face, tries counting blurgs, but it’s no use. No matter what Cara does, she can’t stop hearing the choked moans coming from the cabin next to hers. She kicks the covers away and stumps around in circles inside her cramped hut.

It’s not like it came as a surprise to her.  

She suspected something was brewing under the surface from the first day she met the Mandalorian. Settling things with him was easy enough after they learnt that no, he didn’t have a fob on her, and no she wasn’t after a green baby growing wings out of his head. She smiled when the pretty woman feeding broth to said kid giggled at her description.

Cara’s first impression of you was pleasant enough; you smiled easily and contributed every now and then with your own sharp observations, not to mention how much the shock trooper liked the feeling between her legs every time your breasts bounced with each hearty laugh. She even thought of making a move, but stopped the lewd come-on from tumbling past her teeth once she noticed the way your gaze followed your Mandalorian’s every move. Inside some buried corner in the back of her mind, Cara recognized the look. If not something deeper (because softer passions are hard to nurture in this harsh galaxy), it was—at the very least—a look of profound longing. And, although those gentle sentiments had abandoned Cara somewhere in the blur of her past, she’d lived enough to know that glimpse in your pupils whenever he’d get too close to you was there to stay.

The drizzle turns into rain. Instead of drowning them, the loud pebbling clatter of fat droplets only gives the mewls a vibration and solidity that they lacked before. She steps out of the lodge, hoping the pouring water will clear her mind and send her back to bed. But—like if you were purposefully working to lengthen her insomnia— as soon as her head pokes out, the whimpers that hit her are noisier and clearer, and she immediately goes back inside. She sits on a stool, impatiently grabs at her trimmed hair, searches her warrior’s brain for a solution.

She kept her distance that afternoon and thought she’d never see either of you again, and hadn’t at all expected the leather hand that dropped a pouch of credits at her feet in the dark Sorgan woods.

A little action and some pocket money were a good bargain, so Cara took the job. She promised herself, though, to keep her cravings for you at bay. It wasn’t very hard at first. Everyone in the community spent weeks doing little but prepare for the impending attack of the raiders. Cara and the Mandalorian trained the villagers, planned the defense strategy, went over the plan over and over again, helped dig ditches, and neither of them had much time to think about you.

It wasn’t until after their victory—after the Imperial AT-ST was destroyed and, with it, the invaders’ oppressive grip on the fishing village—that they both allowed themselves to occupy their heads on something—or rather, someone—a lot more pleasant.

By that point, Cara had gotten pretty good at reading Mando’s body language. Gestures that she’d once thought were signs of indifference or trained stoicism picked up completely different meanings. She remarked how his spine would relax and he’d lose a few inches whenever he’d see his son playing with the village’s children. She took note of the way his helmet would tilt to the side and his modulated voice would drag a little at the end on the rare occasion he made a joke. She was next to him on the afternoon his dark visor fixated on you when, in front of a particularly orange sunset, the last beams of light melted over your glowing figure, painting your skin and hair with changing colors. She definitely didn’t miss the sore sigh that fractured at the sight before it even left the helmet.

Cara cements her legs on the ground for stability and cracks her knuckles once, twice, until the joints go mushy and they stop clicking.

She can tell you’re trying to hush your sounds as best as you can. She can tell because every time a notably loud whine defies your restraint, it is instantly muffled by a hand or some other utensil you’ve learned you need after your long nights of pleasure.

It’s been going on for a couple of days now, and Cara is starting to find it fucking insufferable. She honestly doesn’t know what’s worse: the sleepless nights or the mornings that follow. For the uninitiated, your morning greetings and seemingly innocent small talk would be polite, but unremarkable. Cara, though, knows better. She’s there for every conspiring smile, every brush of his gloves against your hips. She even catches some of the furtive whispers and caresses you exchange sometimes, when you think nobody’s looking. How you blush when he crowds you with his superior stature; how he sneaks out of your tent at dawn.

And, it’s not like Cara is jealous of Mando. Although you’re nice and easy to talk to, she knows that her feelings for you are purely physical, and she’s spent enough time around you both to know that whatever is going on between you two had been ballooning for a pretty long time until it inevitably burst. If anything, she’s relieved that, after such a torturous period of mutual pining, you’ve finally found an outlet for your affection. She’s happy for her friends. But she can’t fucking sleep.

The relentless moaning starts bending the humid air into clearer shapes. You’re talking to each other. Against all her instincts, Cara drops to the floor in all fours and crawls closer to barrier of her lodging. She presses her ear to the scratchy wall. The sounds are swallowed, and she only makes out an attuned voice that says, “…wanted…from…first day…”

What she can hear loud and clear is a wet, squelching noise that goes to the beat of the dropping rain. The warrior feels like an anvil drops on her chest and slumps on the floor.

If she’s being honest, it’s not even the lack of rest that’s really bothering her—although it does contribute to her daily grumpiness. The reason she finds it unbearable to sit through the rich sounds of your consummated lust night after night is that she knows exactly what she’s missing.

Because she’s been to almost every system and fought every fight. She’s witnessed the destruction of planets and their birth. She’s slept on empty deserts, under the watchful eye of their celestial vault. She’s cheated death. But there’s nothing, absolutely nothing she’s found on her long voyages across the galaxy that compares to the electric current that shocks her nerve endings when someone’s flesh presses against hers. Nothing like having someone strip down bare and let her learn them, inside and out.

So, Cara sits and listens, sits and listens, sits and listens…, until—stubborn, willful woman that she is—she decides that enough is enough.

She stands and struts outside with heavy steps like she’s battlebound, lets the rain—now a storm—drench her skin and underclothes, lets her boots sink in mud. She stops at the entrance of your tent, where the cries are loudest and barely concealed by the rainfall. Her plan is to come in quickly, averting her gaze, and sternly tell you two to keep it down or find another place to fuck. She pushes the flap of the entrance open.

Neither of you see her. How could you, when your nude back is facing her, and Mando, on his underarmor and beneath you, has his helmet thrown back against the floor, probably staring directly at the way your breasts bob gently with your leisurely up-and-down movements.

Cara stays at the entrance, partially hidden by the shadows that the oil lamp beside you can’t reach. She really does try to move. She wills her legs to step forward and make her presence known, but a wave of heat hits her hard when she sees the low, orange light embrace your lower back and drop to your ass with your languid movements. She tells her head to turn around, but her limbs have rebelled against her and remain frozen in front of the show.

Defeated, she stands in the gloom. The mythic warrior Carasynthia Dune helplessly stares at the lovers, pathetically wet and overcome with the desire to simply witness.

A part of her doesn’t care about the morality of it. Not when she sees your trembling thighs rock particularly hard over the Mandalorian, which draws a strangled sob from you and a low grumble from him, both of which can probably be heard three huts over. He quickly lifts one of the gloved hands holding your hips and presses it against your gaping mouth, like he wasn’t the one who moaned the loudest. Still, his grip does nothing to hide the obscene sound of your cunt taking his veins and ridges inside, your juices blending with his.

She’s entranced by the way your fists are clamped on his undershirt and whines seem to knot in your throat as he brings a hand to your back drawing soothing circles. You’re both so laughably bad at keeping quiet.

I could stay here, she thinks after a moment, here in the dark, where they won’t see me.

The hair on the nape of the neck stands up.

You look so elated, doing your best to pleasure each other. Neither of you speak, but you seem to be communicating through grunts, erotic movements, and caresses that carry more meaning than Cara could decipher. It looks like you’re confessing something unspeakable to each other.

Cara whimpers. It’s only a tiny syllable, but it apparently draws the Mandalorian’s attention, because the helmet rolls to side and focuses on the spot where shadows camouflage her. She freezes.

He grabs your thighs tightly and groans, “Fuck—C-cara?”

You immediately stop moving and remove your hands from his chest in indignation. “What?”

“N-no, no. I mean…” He points towards the general area where she’s hiding. Your upper body follows his finger.

Cara hasn’t blushed from embarrassment in years, so she’s confused when she feels blood stab at her cheeks. For a fleeting moment, she thinks that if she’s just very quiet and stays very still, you’ll go back to your motions and wave off the feeling that someone’s watching. It’s stupid and Cara knows it. Cursing herself, she steps out of the shadows, slickness sticking to her inner thighs with the shifting of her legs.

Her voice is dusty when she speaks, looking down at the floor like a child caught awake after bedtime. “I…I’m sorry I just—” The rain outside rings in her ears. She cracks her knuckles nervously and shifts her weight from leg to leg, thinking of a way to get out of it. “You were being too fucking loud. Stars, I’m sure they can hear you in Nevarro. You’ll have bounty hunters find you in no time if you keep this shit up.” Her words and tone are aggressive, but her eyes tell a different story, as they remain fixated on your heaving chest.

Neither of you move. Between the partial darkness and the helmet, she can’t really bring herself to try to read what Mando’s thinking. You, on the other hand, just look confused…and then, when you draw a line from the woman’s gaze to your naked chest, something else crosses your features. Not anger, not shame—something soft. Compassion, maybe?

Cara doesn’t stay to find out. She drags her feet across the floor to see herself out, as you turn to Mando and seem to tell him something in that secret, silent language of yours. He squeezes your thighs. Her name on your airy voice makes her stop.

“Cara,” you start, “w-would you—um—would you like to stay?”

The mercenary is sure she’s starting to hallucinate shit in an attempt to keep some of her dignity, until she indulges in one final look back and sees you with your arm extended, inviting her to join you.

She doesn’t notice when her legs come to life and drag her towards the couple, nor when her joints bend and sink to your level, kneeling and petrified. It’s only when your fingers brush her inner wrist and she pulls it back instinctively that she comes back to her senses.

Mando’s thumbs are drawing circles below your breasts. “Give her time.”

“You can touch me,” you tell the statue in front of you, but quickly add, “if you want. Or you can—” the bounty hunter must be cramping under your weight, because he repositions his hips, which makes him grunt and cuts you off, “—or you can only watch if you prefer. It’s okay.”

With a smile, you turn your attention back to the man trapped between your legs and resume your grinding. Whether you do it to put up a show for your guest, she’s not sure, but your rocking is stronger this time around, making sure you sink to the hilt and then pull almost completely out, before falling back down. Cara’s holding her breath. Maker, why is she acting like a fucking virgin? Her hands roll into fists when you throw your head back and pull a lustful wail from your insides.

Mando isn’t doing any better when he locks his fingers firmly on the curve of your ass and pants out, “You—you really enjoy the extra attention, don’t—don’t you?”

You exhale through your mouth with a smile and turn to stare straight into Cara’s eyes. “Maybe I d-do.”

It’s the playful glint your eyes and the way you sigh out the last word that make Cara think that a challenge was masked behind the simple statement. It snaps her back into reality.

Okay, then.

While your hunter caresses your backside, two strong hands grab your ribs and lift you a few inches, before bringing you down hard on the girthy phallus that splits you open. You and Mando both cry out at the suddenness of the satisfaction that burns a hole in your insides.

“Maybe Mando stands for your attitude,” Cara tells you as she pinches your right nipple and her face gets close to the other one, “but I don’t.” She traps your left breast in her hot mouth and nibbles at the peak. The Mandalorian—still trapped under—tries thrusting harder, and you grind down faster, short, high whimpers leaving your reddened lips.  In the back of Cara’s mind, she feels bad for their generous Sorgan hosts, because there’s no way the whole village hasn’t woken up for the noise. The storm rages more violently, but—somehow—the thunder outside serves as a vessel for your frenzied moans and amplifies them.

Mando grabs two handfuls of your lower cheeks and pushes you further towards his chest, which forces Cara to lean back on her elbows.  In the new position, your tits slap around her face and, even though she tries to pull them to her mouth, your whole body is being manhandled too swiftly by the Mandalorian for her to get a hold of you.

Annoyed, Cara places a heavy open palm on your sternum and pushes you back. “Fuck, keep still.” You lean back with no resistance, too limp with pleasure to put up a fight. She climbs back on you and sucks bruises on your collarbone, until her gaze falls on the union where the base of Mando’s sex ends and yours begins. She sees the creamy cum piling down there and—although she can’t tell which one of you is responsible for it—she scoops some with her fingers and uses it to massage it up and down your tense clit.

The muscles of your face cramp and your usual lovely expression contorts into a desperate frown. Her fingers collect more moisture and move faster against your bud, earning her a low purr, but it’s Mando’s head that turns to face her.

“Don’t s-stop,” he forces out, “y-you—th-that…’s m-making her t-tight.” He lets a shaky gasp out through the modulator. “You’re making her s-so fuck-fucking tight.” His member pushes against the snugness of your cunt as he tries to bury himself as deeply as your swollen walls will let him.

Cara complies and pulls the hood of your clit up. The direct pressure makes you jump and lose your balance, but the man below you catches your arms and holds you steady over him. You’re a mess, trembling and sobbing at the ceiling, so the Mandalorian lets go of one of your arms and brings his gloved palm to the back of your neck, working it so that you’re looking down at him. His hips are shaking with anticipation, but he still slows down and his thumb circles the soft skin of your neck. Cara lifts her attention from your soaked folds when she notices you’ve both stopped moving.

If her sleepless nights are any indication, you’ve only been having sex for about a week, but the way he holds you and calms you down tugs at something uncomfortable in Cara. It’s like he has you memorized already. He knows exactly how to touch you and how much you can take. He knows—much to his own detriment—when to stop.

Your breathing falls back to its normal pace and you’re starting to move again when she removes her fingers. You both groan in protest, but Cara just leans back out of the reach of the lamp’s flame and watches your bodies bathe in warm light. Panting, she sees you hold on to each other and comes to terms with the fact that she doesn’t belong wedged between your bodies, where you share something unknown to her. The realization isn’t as devastating as she thought it would be, and she figures it’s better to leave your carnal diversions between you two.

A helmet and a face stare expectantly, much like Rebel troops once focused on her awaiting orders.

Still, she muses with a light grin, that doesn’t mean I can’t teach them anything.

She scoots closer to your cot, and stops where only half of her body is covered in light. Surprisingly, Mando doesn’t pull away when she grabs his hand and guides it towards your upper body.

“You two really have a volume problem,” she quips as she beckons you closer and wraps his hand around your delicate neck. She signals the hunter to squeeze, but he turns to you first in a wordless question. You nod, and Cara’s fingers leave his when he clasps them on the sides of your neck. You sigh.

She then takes your hand and guides it to the base of your lover’s manhood. You mimic the squeeze on your neck. Mando gasps.

The former Rebel leader pulls back to admire her work and—once she’s satisfies with it—leans back on her elbows and slithers a hand inside her pants. The couple is still fixed in position, waiting for an instruction.

“Go ahead,” Cara allows, as she pushes her underwear to the side and mixes the leftover cum on her fingers with her own.

She can tell you’re already exhausted, but you still make an effort to lift your dripping pussy and bear down until your lips hit your palm. She sees your knuckles go white as they clutch harder around Mando’s base. He does the same to your neck, still testing and careful. It’s not until a potentially loud whine threatens to leave you that he intuitively squeezes harder to stop it from touching the damp air. The stronger hold on you makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. It doesn’t take either of you very long to fall into a frantic and vulgar pace, much different from the leisurely one you were working with at the start of the night.

Cara knows you’re teased and tired of waiting and doesn’t expect you to last much longer, so she skips any foreplay with herself and goes straight for her own sensitive button, swiping it with a roughness that she didn’t dare apply on yours. The sensation makes her her legs shake. She goes harder. Within seconds, she’s breathless, just as desperate as you two to reach her release.

“Fuck—fuck her harder,” she orders the Mandalorian when a calloused finger draws quick circles around her clit.

You’re basically bouncing on him now, but the disciplined man still manages to obey. His grip on your neck turns to steel, as he clasps his free fingers on the fat of your backside and slams you down to meet his thrusts. Your mouth gapes open and, if not for the gloved fingers around you, Cara’s sure your screams would make the walls tremble. The lamp—almost out of oil—shines on the plump tears of satisfaction that slide down your cheeks and fall on your partner’s shirt.

Finally, an invisible force seems to shove you forwards into Mando’s chest. You’re still convulsing on top of him when he brings both hands to your lower back to fuck himself into you with all the stamina left in his system. Unfortunately, there’s nobody to grasp his throat when it spits out a long groan. Cara sees his arousal seep out of you.

She gives you a moment to breathe, then stands and rounds the collapsed bodies, kneeling in front of your legs. She taps your thigh, hoping you haven’t passed out yet.

“Open your legs for me, sweetheart. Let me see.” But you don’t respond, so Mando uses his remaining energy to push your legs apart for Cara’s enjoyment. His hands drop with a stump on your back, and she’s startled by the raucous snores that leave the helmet.

She shakes her head and mumbles to herself, “Maker, they can’t even sleep quietly.”

Her digits go back inside her underwear while she absorbs the way your pussy flutters and twitches around nothing, dripping with your cum and your beau’s seed. The sight and her fingers are enough to summon a strong but quiet orgasm from her. Her walls are still clenching and she’s trying to control her breathing when the oil lamp finally dies out.

Once again, Cara Dune is engulfed in darkness. This time around, though, her eyes have learned to adjust to it; she can make out the outline of your conjoined bodies. Tasting her fingers, she stands and walks to the exit.

Her arm is lifting the cloth that acts as a door when she glances back over her shoulder. You’re sleeping noisily, but peacefully, lost in each other. She wonders if she could ever allow herself to be that vulnerable with someone else.

Someday, she reflects, someday.

Outside the tent, Cara’s surprised she’s not met with a monsoon. She didn’t even notice when the rain stopped. She shrugs and continues on her short way to her hut, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep.

The sun is coming up on the horizon.

[eeveedel]

omg that post u made abt harry (gaslight, gatekeep, girl boss) it was so funny i dont think i hv laughed so hard before, the accuracy u utter genuis

but on another note, what do u think of everything happening there? bc its honestly so confusing? ik a lot of ppl want someone to blame, im lucky i dont hv a stake in it (as in i didnt buy a ticket or anything) but it feel weird to just put the blame solely on harry? or maybe its not? im not sure how it works i suppose im lucky to just be chilling and not worried a couple of my mates are rrly annoyed at this point tho and i even know someone who spent some $300 dollars so its sensitive

I think it's a complicated issue, and I don't think there's one person to blame. I think in general this is a hard situation because of course, no one knows what's going to happen in the near future and we haven't know anything for a year and half. There's no way to make people 100% happy; people will get mad if the tour is outright cancelled, people will get mad if it's pushed back. I think what so many people are upset about is the pure lack of communication and the sense that no one involved (meaning both Harry and his team) seem to care about the fans. Pushing back the tour a few months is laughable and potentially dangerous with current COVID regulations, and even with that change, the fans had to get emails from ticketmaster before we heard anything directly from Harry's team, while in the past usually Harry or HSHQ are the first to annouce tour news

It's a sensitive topic for so many people because Harry's tickets are expensive, and many people bought multiple shows, or don't live in a big city and have to factor in flights (which can be hard to cancel and move around) or gas money, lodging, food if they're staying for more than a day, parking, taking time off work or school if it's a weekday show...most fans don't have the luxury of driving or walking downtown to a major tour venue, buying an overpriced drink, having a fun show for a couple hours and then going home. For a lot of fans, it's a more complicated and expensive experience, and despite the wealthy fans that like to flex their multiple shows (who tend to be the loudest voices in this fandom), most of Harry's fans are normal people who are in school or work regular jobs; a few hundred dollars, is a lot of money for something that's not a necessity.

I know Harry isn't totally responsible for this -- some of it is the venues, some is trying to coordinate schedules of his opening acts, a lot of it is his management -- but I think people put blame on Harry for a few reasons. He's the face of it all; it's his tour and his album and he's the reason we all bought tickets in the first place. Fans are out a lot of money for the sole reason they wanted to see Harry in concert. Also, he's the one we're attached to and have a parasocial relationship with. A lot of us view Harry as a protective and safe figure, so when things happen in relation to him that hurt us, it feels personal and hurts a lot more. And finally, the way Harry has acted in the last few months but really in the last year has turned a lot of people off. Harry is a grown man with a lot of fucking money and is allowed to do whatever he wants, but going on an extended vacation in Italy for almost a month while fans are begging to know if they should sell their tour tickets...the optics of it not great, and paired with the personal relationship I mentioned earlier, it can especially hurt

So yeah, this entire situation is crappy, and that's my two cents as to why so many people are super upset right now

[cs-discourse]

Hi, Flamepool here. I honestly don’t give a shit that I’m blocked by people. Don’t even care about cs much anymore. I care about people taking advantage of the new block system to let only their friends try out for their adopts. We all know it’s gonna happen. That and all the ridiculous reasons people have others blocked like mentioned before(flashy sigs, pfps, rumors without proof, a bad trade, etc.). Now this person who did nothing wrong to the artist can’t even try out for the adopt. 1/2

Artists are allowed to block people for any reason. Art is first and foremost a luxury and artists are 100% allowed to select who they want their patrons and audience to be. The sense of entitlement behind your logic is astonishing and your lack of ability to realize that is laughable. No matter where you are, you bring that entitlement with you and weaponize it against the community you’re interacting with. Artists don’t block people without a reason they feel personally justifiable.

Flashy signatures and images induce panic attacks in me and seizures in other people. Just because you can’t wrap your head around why someone would block for a particular reason doesn’t mean it’s not a justifiable reason. // Mod Peach

lol die mad. whats someone gonna do?? block all 30k cs users?? huh???? people ALREADY DO friend only adopts and have been for a while. the face you act like they dont exist rlly just comes back on your and says “i have no friends”. take the fucking L. .phe

[blasphannie]

I wasn’t even mad about Dan for like a couple weeks but then MacDoesIt tweeted that he wasn’t posting this week bc of personal reasons and I just thought of Dan and I was like it’s literally that fucking simple he just needed to tweet that’s all he needed to do but he couldn’t even do that - it’s honestly laughable how lazy he is compared to everyone else

exactly, it’s super simple. i hate assuming shit, but it is phandom culture to “assume” stuff because of the recurring lack of communication. dan is passive agressive when people don’t assume what he was expecting people to assume and i hate it. it’s not my job and i can’t read his fucking mind, if he wants us to understand his side he might at least be clear about it. it is THIS simple. one tweet going “i’m taking time off. i’m not sure when i’ll come back, but i’ll update you on the way” it’s ALL it takes. 

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

10: Stay Alive

Miles has been Spider-Man (in-universe) for less than 5 years. And he’s stayed alive. That’s cute, even though him staying alive owed a lot to Molecule Man.

Ultimate Peter Parker only ‘died’ (and he didn’t even die really) because he sacrificed his life. It wasn’t like he made a mistake, he actively chose to give up his life.

Meanwhile 616 Peter Parker managed to stay alive for like 10 years before his first death in Secret Wars which was due to a literal God so...is Miles remaining alive that impressive? Is it even something to put him over Peter?

Using the argument that Miles doesn’t die whilst fighting Ultimate Goblin instead of dying is again fucking ridiculous because Peter battled and survived Ultimate Goblin multiple times before his ‘death’ in Death of Spider-Man. In that instance it was again an act of sacrifice more than anything and he was carrying a major injury from saving Captain America and taking a bullet for him or something IIRC.

So it’s a false equivalency even if you ignore the fact that the Oz drug both Peter and Miles have make them effectively immortal.

Him surviving Secret Wars isn’t that impressive either. So he manages to stow away and avoid death. How...heroic? Not to mention PETER also avoids the final incursion on his own lifeboat.

Yes Molecule Man saves Miles and brings back his mother, but he literally saves everyone too. He just happens to shunt Miles into Earth 616 and resurrect his mother. That’s not something Miles can do that Peter can’t because it was based upon Miles having a random burger on his person. Had Peter had that same difference. Uncle Ben would probably be back if Peter had a burger.

It’s not that Miles has the magic power to bring back dead people via his actions he just got lucky.

Also doesn’t him never having his loved ones remain dead kind of make him a Marty Stu?

 9) Alleged immortality

Again...Marty Stu.

But for the record Ultimate Peter, whom this video apparently wants to conflate with but also switch out for 616 Peter when convenient and not treat as a separate character. Also has that power and it’s not even alleged. Also gotta love CBR using a picture of 616 Norman Osborn who looks nothing like Ult Norman when discussing the Goblin killing Peter. Then following that up with Raimi Norman who like 616 Norman is definitely not a Hulk Goblin.

 8) Regenerate

 Miles is more durable huh?

 So...when exactly did Miles survive being crushed beneath machinery weighing a locomotive...under water?

 When did Miles survive being buried alive for 2 weeks?

 When the fuck did Miles survive a beating from Juggernaut, or Morlun, or the Hulk, or Collossus empowered by both the Juggernaut’s powers AND 1/5 of the Phoenix Force?

 More durable my ass.

 The evidence for this is also laughable.

 First of all it’s based upon being able to burst from his restraints and fight back after being drugged which...Peter has definitely done at least once or twice.

 Second of all it literally comes from a comic based upon the USM CARTOON not even the canon Miles. It’s literally cherry picking anything from any version of Miles.

 His durability is also being measured by being able to survive several thousand volts of electricity and like...does the author of this video not know who the fuck Electro is?

 Being tortured by doom and then saving his Dad is also not something Peter couldn’t do. Peter wet through worse in the MP trilogy alone.

 Same thing about being lit on fire. Shit one of those crappy #700.ONE issues showed Peter doing that!

 7) Spider Sense

So Miles spider sense allows him to predict the future when he is dreaming.

Er...Peter’s spider sense has done that in the JMS run...

Not to mention this point is ‘Miles can do this and Peter can’t because it MIGHT develop into something more later maybe’

His Spider sense intensifying isn’t that unique either. Peter’s does that too, again especially in the JMS run.

Miles’ Spider sense going off faster than Peter’s also could just be artistic licence stanning him in his own title.

 6) Speak Spanish

 This is the first legitimate point in this article.

 Too bad it ruins it by saying Peter had difficulty connection to certain residents because of language barriers.

 First of all traditionally Peter as Spider-Man is a pariah.

Second of all how many times honestly has he been shown to be disconnected due to a language barrier within NYC. MOST PEOPLE speak English like him.

Being bilingual also doesn’t give a character ‘more depth’. It’s literally just a skill. By this logic Peter being able to drive gives him more depth than Miles.

Yeah it acknowledges his community which is nice but that’s not greater or lesser depth that’s just a unique feature. And one that he technically doesn’t even need to speak Spanish to acknowledge. I barely speak Greek but I still acknowledge my culture.

 5) Learns Quickly

Yes Miles definitely learns quickly, unlike Peter Parker who

-          didn’t have a mentor or video footage upon which to learn how to be a superhero from but still owned Doc Ock early in his career.

-          Figured out a cure to the Lizard within hours of seeing his notes for the first time

-          Invented webbing in his room.

What? Miles gets the win because he was able to learn how to fight from Peter’s video footage when he was 2 years younger?

The age gap is mitigated when you literally have basically an instruction video to follow whilst Peter despite beig slightly older still figured it out entirely on his own.

Miles studying Norman’s fighting style and using that to defeat him is also not that big of a deal. Peter can and kind of has done that. he just REMEMBERS his enemies fighting styles instead of going over video footage of them. If anything THAT makes him FASTER than Miles in the learning department.

 4) Maintain a Relationship With Gwen Stacy

 Oh....fuck....you....

 First of all Miles and Peter’s relationships with Gwen are different given that Miles’ is mostly platonic and a colleague and Peter’s was romantic oh and you know THEY WERE DIFFERENT GWEN STACY’S

 Yeah Miles being able to keep a relationship with a Gwen Stacy who doesn’t die is much fucking easier when he and Gwen have the benefit of hindsight from 616 Gwen’s death AND Spider-Gwen has fucking super powers.

 If MILES was dating Gwen whilst lying to her about being Spider-Man and she had no powers and they didn’t know she could die like that how well would he have actually been able to keep her around?

 Not much better if at all.

 Bringin up Gwen’s clone is also fucking asinine. It wasn’t that Peter was UNABLE to maintain a relationship with Gwen’s clone so much as he didn’t want to. Or rather he was unable to keep a relationship with her clone because he’d moved on and was in love with Mary Jane which isn’t a matter of him lacking an ability Miles has at all.

 Also Gwen doesn’t help Miles cope with his mother’s death. At all. Because they didn’t spend any quality time together until AFTER his mother returned to life. FFS CBR!

 Saying Miles was able to save Gwen when Peter wasn’t is again bullshit because the circumstances were totally different. In particular Peter saved Gwen MULTIPLE times in the past before she eventually died due to a small but significant mistake.

 3) Be a team player/more sociable

 I will grant this article that TEENAGE Peter was less of a team player and less sociable, but that changed over time.

 The article shoots itself though by

a)      Implying Peter was an Avenger as  a teen

b)      Saying he was never truly a part of the Avengers team when he was on it. Er....yes he was. It was badly written but he was truly a member no doubt. His self doubts also rarely if ever came into play. Over all he lacked much personality whilst on the avengers

 the article is also two-faced because it ignores how Ultimate Peter WAS a team player and WAS able to have friends and accept help as a teenager.

 2) Communicate with his best friend.

 Well Ultimate and 616 Peter’s best friend is Mary jane and he communicates with her just fine...especially with his body language If yA Know wat I mEaN ;D

  Everything the article says aboiut Ganke pretty much applies to Ultimate and 616 MJ in regards to Peter.

  More than anything this point is where you REALLY see the video cherrypicking between the Ultimate Peter or 616 Peter. Literally in the last point it was quoting Captain America saying Spider-Man wasn’t ready to join the team from the Ultimate universe yet when it comes time to analyse his friendships in high school suddenly we switch to 616.

 1)      Turn invisible

Not only should this have been one of two things on this entire list but this list is so bad it literally IGNORED the one other ability Miles literally has that Peter lacks, the Venom blast.

 How do you fuck up that badly?

 0)      The ability to be falsely praised and put over undeservedly

Now THAT is an ability Miles truly has that Peter doesn’t.

[ohmymyeolchi]

people of my tiny ass hick hometown tried to actually be good allies for trans visibility day and the mayor rejected to recognize it saying if he did it was “discrimination” because its not honoring everyone else (aka heterosexuals)

and just, bitch are you fucking serious?  “In my experience as mayor for the past eight years, the city has been a respectful, safe, inviting community”

honestly? what a fucking joke. that is truly laughable because i cant think of any lgbtq people that truly ever felt safe or invited there. it’s only ever been inviting for the straight whites! remember that time where one elementary school so mostly latinx so they turned it into a bilingual school where all classes where in English and Spanish? do you remember the number of white moms that threw fits and made threats because “how dare my child need to learn spanish” fucking remember that? cause i do? I remember the distinct lack of latinx students in my higher classes, even though there a fair amount in the school. i also remember the “gay-straight alliance” which was just a group of us mostly queer people having meetings at lunch and pretending we were straight people that supported gay rights, because who the fuck wanted to be open about maybe not being straight? 

and then you refuse to recognize the trans people there that are already having such a fucking hard time, and you want to say that its always been “safe” and inviting?” what bullshit. you want to know what my dad told me he thought about that town? “its cute, but i thought of it as a white supremacist-y place. its small, not diverse. i didn’t want to raise my kids there”

so yeah, maybe it would be more welcoming if some of you had some self reflection and realized that you live in a very white, very religious, conservative place, and maybe worked on making other people not feel fucking ostracized

 that said....I’m so fucking happy with the number of people that showed up to protest though. like, thank you for reminding me that that place actually has some good fucking people that want to support others.

what a fucking mess.

[vorcotec]

41, 33, 21 and 1 for the character development meme !

1. How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy?

jane is always Something. she’s got this janeniness. i rbed this post about virginia woolf into my ‘about jane’ tag a while back:

…In his autobiography, Leonard Woolf writes with pain and some bewilderment about the way in which complete strangers would react to his wife: ‘ … to the crowd in the street there was something in her appearance which struck them as strange and laughable … people would stare or stop and stare at Virginia. And not only in foreign towns; they would stop and stare and nudge one another – “look at her” – even in England, in Piccadilly or Lewes …’

Leonard makes the observation that these incidents tended to happen at moments when Virginia was lost in thought – when she had, in a sense, forgotten herself. There was something in her expression or comportment in those moments, which, taken with her unusual mode of dress, made her appear anomalous to people.

with jane, in particular, this sense of anomaly comes bc she is autistic, and there’s always been something in her carriage that sets her apart, since childhood. it’s all over her comportment and how she moves and acts.

first, no matter what she does, jane has this... aura of internality. she seems not to be paying attention to what’s happening around her and to be focused on anything but what one would expect her to focus on. if she’s moving through a room around you, you might get the impression she’s carrying out a task she thinks of as WAY more important than you. this comes about because she doesn’t make eye contact, her head is usually down, and she almost always needs her hands to be engaged in some form of stimming--playing with her phone, her bag, her journal; she’s usually seeking textures and shapes to trace, rather than pursuing any activity involving actual Braining, although she’s been known to draw while people talk to her. again--she seems not to be paying attention. but she is. virtually always.

jane’s posture is also unique. she has a pronounced slouch and will off-and-on stand pigeon-toed. if her hands aren’t in motion, they’re usually visibly Held at her sides, with her fingers curled in, and in general if her hands are still you get the impression she doesn’t know what to do with them. there is usually a sense of tension to her posture, especially if she’s around other people and feels observed--jane’s quite conscious that she’s weird/strange/off in various ways and she knows that other people know it, she just doesn’t know how to be different; hence tension. but because of a general lack of connection to her body she also isn’t so hot at perceiving how tense or relaxed she is at a given moment.

jane’s gestures are also Janey. she almost never gestures when she talks; this is one of the elements of allistic body language she simply doesn’t have. she will gesture if she needs to indicate something specific--such as pointing out the specific part of a painting or invention or equation written on a whiteboard or whatever--but otherwise, if she’s not stimming, her hands are at her sides or in her pockets.

broadly speaking in terms of how quickly she moves, jane’s slow until she’s suddenly fast; when she has a goal she fires off toward her goal, often without communicating that goal to whoever she’s with. you just kinda have to chase after her, or if ur short and happen to be wearing rollerskates, grab onto her sleeve and let her pull you.

overall, jane’s energy is... Jane™™™™™™™. that’s it. u either plug into it or u don’t.

21. What kind of relationships do they tend to intentionally seek out versus actually cultivate? What kind of social contact do they prefer, and why?

jane prefers social contact on Her Terms, not because she’s antisocial, but because she has... very, very, very little tolerance for most of the social contracts the allistic world takes for granted. she does NOT fuck with small talk, “saying hello just to be polite”, being civil to people she doesn’t like, etc. at this stage in her life she’s just over it all. generally speaking, she wants social contact with people one-on-one or, at most, in a group of three (3) total; she wants that to happen in semi-public or private spaces where they won’t be bothered; she wants it to be interesting, respectful, and if she’s talking to a pretty lady... fruitful ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (but it also doesn’t have to be because jane is a gentleman).

apart from the romantic, jane rarely seeks types of relationships; in general she’s just looking for people she can actually connect with--easier said than done as an autistic in an allistic world, not to mention a woman in STEM. so it’s possible for jane to cultivate relationships that seem sort of... wildly unconnected to each other? she’s able to forge connections w people from all over a range of personality types because what she’s after is that connection between her and them, the ability to experience something meaningful with them. when you compare e.g. margot @sapphiism‘s passionate intensity with the low-key thoughtfulness of dorothy’s father, roberto, they seem very different from each other, and it might seem unusual for jane to have forged such closeness w/ both of them. 

33. How do they learn about the world–what is their preferred learning style?

jane learns by Touching All the Things; also by Doing, usually by a method that’s significantly weirder than how other people do it; to a lesser extent, also, research, which definitely plays a role, but is a strong second to her need to stick her hands in whatever’s going on and mess around with it. you can imagine how difficult it was to transition to biomedical engineering and not be allowed to just shove her hands into people goop. GOD DAMN IT LET HER TOUCH YOUR ORGANS.

41. What associations do they bring to mind? Words or phrases, images, metaphors or motifs? Why?

don’t u hate it when ur bopping along writing and u encounter something and ur like “damn i write about this a lot this is def a motif” and then u actually get asked this question and u can’t focking remember... let me try to think of some bhsfmsldkghdgkslm

ok, i associate jane STRONGLY with birds. i’m always thinking of her as birdlike in particular because of her habit of looking at people from angles, out of the corners of her eyes and/or w her head tilted, as a bird will cock its head to look at you. not to be discursive but if u wanna be Valid™ u should have ur character think of jane as being like a lorge bird.

an image that i often write about when jane is happy is bubbles. that’s how she experiences happiness--big, fizzy, effervescent bubbles of light and color lifting her up--and it shows in how she bounces, rocks, and sways when she’s very happy. like fizzy lifting drink but emotional.

in terms of words, phrases, metaphors... i think i’m always trying to find new ways of describing jane’s sensitivity, her engagement w/ the world around her. i think i was genuinely successful when i wrote this:

If she could thrust her hands into the colors of things the way she might thrust them into pools of paint, she would.

and i honestly might never top it.

character development questions. ∴ @marblecarved.

[fem-fatalist]

Wow.

I’ll clarify: gender is meaningless in that it has no inherent meaning beyond what we ascribe to it.  That’s it.  Gender obviously can & does continue to exist, and the norms and attributes therein continue to have an affect on our lives. 

Are you a trans person?  If not, why do you feel you can unilaterally make decisions of what’s true for a community you aren’t a part of?  Actually, same question if you are trans. 

 There’s lots of reasons trans people choose not to transition or don’t want to.  I can’t speak for trans people, because I’m not trans.  But some major barriers include unsafe communities, or hostile home environments that make transitioning not merely uncomfortable but actually dangerous.  These factors don’t mean those trans people “don’t count” and its frankly ridiculous to say so.

How in the fucking world do you honestly think that trans or non-binary discourse only exists in “millennial campus culture?” Wtf? Ever hear of Janet Mock? Laverne Cox, y’know, a trans woman who was on the cover of Time Magazine? 

The fact that people don’t understand “it” is precisely why trans people are in danger.  Trans youth are disproportionately more likely to have suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, and higher rates of self-harm than other groups of youth.  Perhaps this isolation they experience, levels of bullying and stigma may contribute to that. In fact, there are studies that support that idea, and also tell us that trans people in general experience high levels of harassment, physical assault, job discrimination, and poverty.  With murder rates and hate crimes, it’s difficult to know exactly how many, because many states’ hate crime laws don’t extend to gender identity.  And with victims being misgendered, it’s harder to track. Nonetheless, this story is one example of how trans people are stigmatized and killed for being trans. 

Is there any support for your claim that people “don’t want to hurt them?” 

How on earth do non-binary people reinforce gender roles, when their entire existence complicates those gender roles in the first place?  

Gender norms are characteristics we assign to a given gender ( i.e. girl = dress/ boy = pants).  Clothing, make-up, hair style/cut has fuck all to do with a person’s gender. That is, if you let it.  

I very much encourage you to look for narratives and stories from actual trans and non-binary people to better understand their viewpoint. Here’s a booklist.  Here’s another one. 

So I take it you haven’t heard of the whole bathroom bill rigmarole. 

And, as I mentioned before, laws don’t begin or end oppression or discrimination.  

You keep harping on this idea that awareness of trans people and non-binary experience is this frivolous college thing, which is just so... laughably wrong.  How the fuck do you make that conclusion when trans and LGBTQ concerns in general were a topic of discussion in Obama’s administration, in recent Republican and Democrat campaign platforms, when trans people are not just having their stories told, but are the featured stories: 

Have you considered that maybe you just aren’t paying attention? 

Trans people, non-binary included, have been around for a long time. We’re only just now talking about it more openly---and obviously, open as in way beyond a fucking college campus.  Regardless tho! Their lack of visibility doesn’t negate that existence, that experience, or the discrimination and hatred they’ve seen for being who they are.   

[asyptomaticsyptomless]

Passive-Aggressive BULLSHIT

yeh, welcome to the inside of my brain as I try and figure out what the hell is dragging me down so much in the head.

I can’t stop or slow down, because I am scared to listen to what I don’t want to hear. I don’t want to hear how powerless I am, because I already know. I don’t want to know how strong I am because I already know. I don’t want to think about all those who are angry and mean and using stress as an excuse to be dicks to each other. 

I think what I am most angry about is my lack of choice, or lack of safe choices. Because I don’t want to work. I don’t want to be the beacon of happiness for everyone, well no, I don’t want to be the ONLY beacon of happiness. I don’t want to be the only one who see’s how GOD DAMNED important it is to be kind and stop being passive aggressive. I hate it because it is my friends go to way of communication, and customers, and strangers. As if being being constantly full of aggression is actually going to help someone, or something.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

“No, I don’t think you deserve the respect to be talked to like an adult, I am going to shame you and belittle you because that is what I want. I want you to feel small. I want you to feel objectified. I want you to feel childish. And it isn’t my place to make you feel better about how I treat you either. Live with it.”

FUCK YOU

That is not how you talk to people. That is not how you make for a nicer world. That is not how you make for a happy home, That is not how you support and teach friends. That is not how you make a happy community.

It is insecurity masked in ego.

You talk as if you know more than those you talk down too. As if you are in a better position so you can lead them, and guide them, and teach them. BUT HOW THE HELL CAN YOU DO THAT WHEN YOU CAN’T EVEN CONFRONT YOUR OWN TOXIC TRAITS.

You want to see psycho analyzing. Fuck. here it goes.

Passive agressive people are manipulators who think they are owed something by the way they were raised. They believe for what ever reason, that they are owned the world and they don’t need to be respectful to get what they want. They were sucked into a cycle and being passive aggressive, and mean got them what they wanted, and helped them avoid what they need. They use passive aggression as a way to hide themselves and their insecurities. They use their past experiences as an excuse as to why it is okay to treat friends, strangers, family like shit. “Well I was always like this.”

CHANGE YOUR SHIT, so only you want to remain toxic. You don’t see a problem with shitting on a low-esteem friend. You don’t see the problem with treating them like a child. You don’t see the problem thinking you are better because you are what, more mature? You’re not more mature, you can’t communicate, you can’t let go and forgive, you can’t face your mistakes with a smile, so how are you better than anyone else? You don’t have basic life skills to make it in the world. 

Sure you’ve grown, and your experiences have changed you. But honestly not enough. An emotionally mature person doesn’t use passive aggressive words and tones to get their point across. They don’t use it as a way to publicly shame someone. They don’t use it at all because IT IS GOD DAMNED HURTFUL AND TOXIC.

You’re not better than me even if you think you are. I am more experienced but not better than. I have things to learn and change, as do you, but you seem content with where you are because it is further than before. But now, you are trapped in a toxic cycle or shitting on your friends to feel good about yourself because you can what, get groceries on your own, for yourself? Or because you were taught how to cook from loving family and jobs? Or because you know how to do laundry?

Those skills do not make you better than anyone else. You have learned basic ass skills and you are using them as a badge of honor. It is laughable, and I do laugh at you. It is like a child running with a big flower being proud of having it, but behind you see that they destroyed part of a garden for it. “Look at what I have” in this context is the same as “but don’t look what I can do”. Be proud that I brought beauty into my life but ignore the destruction I caused to get here.

You are burning bridges sitting on your pedestal of basic knowledge. 

And I will laugh and judge you doing this because you have made it perfectly clear, that judgement around you is okay. You made it clear when you insulted a friend to a stranger, and shamed them in public. 

I will always judge how you treat others. I have to because it is the only way that I know what is acceptable around you. Whatever you are okay with doing to others, I have to assume you are okay with it being done to you. Because that is what friends share, they share perceptions, and gossip, and ideologies. 

You might kick my ass with music and in the kitchen, but I am sure that kindness and compassion are my strong points and your weak points.

I was only passive aggressive with my brother, and that ended at 20. I am curious to see when you see the benefits of being empathic in conversation in place of passive aggressive!

[acidicspirits]

2.25.17

yesterday I found out that my best friend of 7 years got cheated on by her boyfriend of some months now. I had to ask what was wrong verses her telling me like she told everyone else. I wanted to be there for her and console her but I’ve noticed the relationship growing apart due to unresolved issues but I’ll get into that in a second. after trying to help her, her other best friend, we'll call her J, messages me wanting to plot on her to make the scumbag boyfriend suffer. after a while J brought to my attention that the boyfriend didn’t like me. the reason why is absolute bullshit and almost laughable. months ago I gave my best friend, S, my house key because I needed her help. after she was done she left my key outside so her boyfriend could get it. due to lack of communication on their part my key was lost. mind you that’s the second or third key of mine someone has lost. I panicked cause I knew my mother would be pissed and that was only our second key to our apartment. S offered to replace it and I agreed respectfully seeing as how I didn’t lose it. it seemed fair. but apparently she took it as me blaming her and so did her boyfriend. obviously her guilt got the better of her so it must’ve been easier to blame me than to take credit for her own mistake. I’ve noticed that about her, not being able to own up to what she did when it comes to me. that’s the first issue. the second one goes pack to late 2016. I have mental illnesses. that’s no secret to anyone that follows me on here. anyone that suffers from mental illnesses knows how dark and lonely it can get. but it never felt like S was there for me. she use to by materialistic things to make me feel better but it always felt so dismissive. all I wanted was a shoulder to cry on and an ear that’ll listen. you know just comfort, because that’s what friends are for. that’s what best friends are for. but “emotional situations make her uncomfortable.” that was her excuse. or that she always tried but I’m unappreciative. dry short responses, excuses, throwing blame and barely being there is something I should be appreciative for? noted. we’ve had this argument four times now. and each time who throws the blame? if you ask her, it’s me. if you ask anyone who reads the text messages it’s her. I never throw blame because it’s hard to and it sounds fucked up to do so whether it’s her fault or not. but she told other people that causing them to see me differently. negatively. that hurt. found that out last night as well. this whole time I’m pissed at her I’m defending her. yet she was pissed at me and throwing dirty on my name. I was worried about losing a friendship that now seems pretty one sided. I can honestly say that I haven’t talked bad about her. cause it feels wrong. people were calling her out of her name and I checked them. but she had the nerve to share personal information to her judgmental boyfriend and J, her judgmental friend. the other friend apologized so we’re cool. but it still hurts. still sucks. and it makes it harder to want to be in her corner. all the while I was saving up for this expensive ass pet that she wouldn’t stop talking about for years. and like the dumbass I am, I bought it. I feel so stupid. played. used. kinda hurt too. I feel sort of lost. what the hell did I do to deserve that?