#i'm always closing on the days of a comics jam

[monster-noises]

Me: I understand if i want to make more connections and find more cool things to be a part of i have to get out there and Do things and got to Events; so I am going to try and go to some local art events!

My job: i thinK the fuck NOT!!!!!

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny, on the run from the GIW decides to take shelter in Gotham because if the GIW have any sense they'd never set foot in there.

Even if Batman and the JL agree with thier opinion on ecto entities (as evidenced by their lack of speaking out against the anti-ecto acts) Batman was notoriously territorial and would have issue with a wildly incompetent government organization throwing missiles around his city all willy-nilly.

With that being said it was probably best for Danny to wear a disguise. Sure, they didn't know Fenton and Phantom were the same person yet but Danny Fenton suddenly turning up in Gotham after going missing in Amity is certainly going to raise some eyebrows regardless of the necklace he had that jammed his ecto-signature and made him untrackable.

Danny started off by going blond. Its something he's always wanted to do and now with ghostly shape-shifting powers he doesn't even have to worry about frying his hair or dying his eyebrows to match. After that all he needed to do was part his hair down the middle, add a lip ring or two and maybe a bit of make up.

Danny stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like a completely different person.

A completely different and very attractive person. He looked good. The newly blond man threw on a green jacket and went out to explore the town. He did not expect to literally bump into the Tim Drake. The Wayne adoptee just stood there mouth opening and closing comically. Did he offend him? Crap. He had promised Jazz he would stay off of the radar of the Waynes and the bats specifically and here he was angering one of them.

Danny decided to book it before it became a scene, ignoring the lovestruck Tim's crys for him to wait.

Back at his apartment Danny quickly changed his look to red hair tied back into a two inch low ponytail, green eyes and freckles that unbeknownst to anyone else was made up from the lesser known constellations.

The coffee at this Cafe smelled amazing! Too bad Danny wouldn't get to try it because the next this he knew freaking Red Hood was behind him asking to talk. Our favorite ghost boy wouldn't be embarrassed to admit he let out a small squeek before bolting out the door yelling, "I'm not even a criminal!"

It took Jason a few seconds to process that the guy he had tried to flirt with ran away in terror. Crap.

Day three and four were blissfully Wayne and bat free, though he did find out that Tim Drake and Red Hood were looking for his two false identities. Joy.

Day five he met the stabby Robin who very valiantly beat up two people who had been following him. Danny didn't even notice he was being followed and thanked the bird for saving him. Danny, who was shape-shifted into a very pretty girl at the moment, offered to buy him something to eat as a thank you. "Danielle" insisted and Robin allowed it. Danielle never noticed the slight pink on Damians cheeks as they went over to one of Damians favorite restaurants.

Day seven he had went out as blondie and got confronted by some girl named Barbara. She was nice and managed to convince him to come to a Cafe with her. He told her his name was David and he ran away from his parents with the help of one of his friends family members and that he was Jewish, which was true...except for the David part. He learned that if you wanna keep your story straight keeping to almost truths was your best bet. She in turn told him about Tim and how he's a friend of hers-uh oh- and that he's been looking all over for him.

Danny-David- tells her he's sorry but he didn't mean to offend Tim and doesn't want any trouble before laying down enough money to cover his half of the bill and the tip and booking it out of there

This repeats with most of the family trying to flirt with him or adopt him into the family when he's out as Danny.

Bruce Wayne approached Danny when he was waiting to board an elevator, "Hel-" was all the billionaire could get out before Danny cut him off "Hell no." And then he just got in the elevator and pressed the close doors button and was gone again.

[thingwithasoul]

And I'm Gonna Hurt You

Kishibe x Reader | 18+

C/W: Considerable age gap (reader in early 20s, Kishibe in mid-late 40s),Female bodied reader, Daddy kink, Oral (F receiving),Fingering, Edging 

A/N: I haven't been on Tumblr in ages so if I missed any cw lemme know and I'll add. Word Count:3189 words Read Prologue & Epilogue here >> Lilies trilogy master-list

~You're like an angel, nothing can touch you~

You were fuming, eyes darting around to avoid his. Cheeks running red, mostly out of embarrassment. You felt exposed, skin and heart. More than the fact that you said what you said, what sent your vision swirling was the fact that he looked absolutely indifferent. Unmoved. Maybe even a tinge of annoyance flashing in between the crevices of his face. His stone-cold stature, almost a mockery of your visible agitation.  

“So, what are we?” the words you uttered minutes ago still hung in the air, heavier than the heaving of your chest. The taste they left in your mouth started bittering by the second. You were on the brink of something, whether crying or punching him in the face, that was yet to be decided. To say that you felt stupid would be an understatement. 

Kishibe was calculating the situation. When he walked in through your door, he expected it to be just like any other evening. Lecherous fucking and call it a night. But now, there he stood, rubbing his forehead and regretting dropping by. You were a mess, to say the least, exhibiting and alluding to such a mixture of emotions that it was almost alien to him at this age. 

It did start like every other evening. He found himself leaning on your doorway, counting the loops in the pattern of your doormat. Twenty two, he knew it already. His fingers clutched around the flask a little tighter than usual as he took in the raw whiskey. He could feel the bullshit of the day slowly evaporating away while something rather depraved crept up in its place. Twenty-two, he knew it well. 

He would always take his time before knocking (never the doorbell) and actively tried not to delve into the reason behind doing so. Once the vague pangs of conscience settled in, he would knock. By the time his knuckles hit the door a third time, you'd be standing on the other side. He could almost smell you.

He could, in fact, smell you. And every time, it made him wish that he had the ability to leave his nose at his job. Cause you smelt sickeningly sweet. Wild berries dipped in butter syrup, hardened with caramel. Gun powder icing, mercury glaze. It got to his veins faster than anything. And when you opened the door, standing in some old, worn-out t-shirt and underwear, he would feel his heart twist just the tiniest bit. Just enough for him to know this was becoming a habit. He would lean forward to meet your lips — the nastiest saccharine. Nauseating. 

~You know my weakness, but you don't know what I'd do~

Pulsating. Warm. Blood rushing, frenzy, just under the skin. Already, by then, he would feel heat coagulating in his loins just at the mere taste of your lips. Plum jam and cinnamon poison. The softness of your mouth taunting the sharpness of his teeth.

And so it started, like any other evening. With his hands snaking down your belly. 

But this evening, the script went a little off track when you pulled away and, almost comically, distanced yourself. Hips swaying in that devilish motion to the soft, blooming background beats. A genuine smile, to his dismay, formed as you gestured him towards your kitchen. The kitchen of your apartment is less of a kitchen and more of a space in the corner where you cook. In your shoddy studio apartment, everything was a bit too dangerously close to the other. He could already see the mess on the counter. You were up to something. Your smile, scorpion-like, stinging his skin, "I have something for you."

After his work, he didn't like unpredictability. He wanted things he could rely on. Booze, cunt, solitude. However, that fucking smile of yours was the most unpredictable factor in his life right now, and that fact both appalled and enthralled him.

He stood behind you, watching you move to the music, cutting into what seemed like pudding. The spoon trembling as you raised it to his chin, eyebrows wiggling, “Come on, try it.” As he bent down to take the spoon in his mouth, you flashed him the biggest grin - “How is it? I made it for you! You know my mom used to make it on my birthday, I thought you'd like it. Is it good?”

It wasn't anything extraordinary. You weren't the greatest cook. And truth be told, it could use some more sugar. But something about this whole ordeal made his stomach turn. Just the mere view of this dislocated image of a normal household, to come home to someone, to have someone who makes you their birthday pudding, made him jittery. He never had anything like this, he never knew he’d even like something like this. Unbecoming. Sacrilegious.

In that moment, for the first time in a long time he felt the need to have. To possess. To have this for the rest of his wretched life. He couldn't even begin to comprehend how selfish all of it was. How utterly inhumane. And how terribly human.

And just like that, his palm was wrapped under your jaw and the other one up your t-shirt, tongue desperate against yours. When he bit your lower lip, it was with need. Soon, he turned you around, pressed against the counter, his nose buried in your nape. He took in your scent like a man derived of air, fingers etching patterns over your panties.

“God, you're the prettiest little thing,” he almost huffed in your ears., licking the delicate lobe. Saliva trails all over your neck, he wanted to take in even the salt of your sweat. “So fucking beautiful, you got me fucked up.”

“You like it?” you mewled. Your knees barely holding your weight up as his fingertips swayed, pressing dense, deep.

“Every inch. Every goddamn inch. I'd do anything for you”, with that, his hands were sliding up your sides, fabric bunched up in his grip. Kisses up your spine, “Anything you want.” You were clutching the counters for a semblance of balance, “just wann- make ya feel good,” mouth hardly closing enough for clear utterances, “be yo- favorite girl.”

“God, you already do,” he was pressed firm against your back, hard against your supple flesh, “You are. You are my only girl.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, all motion in the room came to a halt. He pulled himself away, and when you turned around to see his face, it was unreadable. Blank. You felt anxiety kick in the back of your ribs, you didn’t know what you were supposed to be feeling. You desperately wanted to know what he was feeling. And before you could say anything, he spoke, words ice cold - “I didn't mean it like that.”

“You meant it like what?” the words doing little to convey the amount of hurt you felt, “So, What are we?” 

~Tell me I'm no one else's but yours~

“Look, kid..” he sat down on the edge of your bed, cigarette hanging from the edge of his lips.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” voice trembling, the rage taking hold of you.

“You are young, and you should be with…” he trailed off, patting around his body, looking for his lighter.

“Oh, so now I’m too young for you, but 5 mins ago, I was old enough to stick your dick inside of,” your tone was dripping with scorn.

A subtle tch. His lighter left lying on his work desk.

Kishibe continued as if you didn’t even mutter a word, “With someone of your age, who will love you and treat you good. Give you a good life.”

“And what if I love you?’ Blasphemous. Profane.

“You don’t love me,” he said factually, no missed beats, “it's just infatuation, happens at your age,” certain.

“You don’t get to tell me how I fucking feel,” you practically hissed, palpably rattled. 

Kishibe sighed in response. He could tell you can not be reasoned with. He knew precisely what was about to come out of your mouth by the way your lips swelled up, and he was contemplating just walking out when you blurted it out,

“Do you love me?”

“You don’t want to do this,” apathetic, stone-cold, the cut-line on his face as harsh as his tone.

“Yes or no. I didn’t ask for anything else.”

Kishibe was silent. His gaze was indecipherable, still, fixed on you. As indifferent as ever, but you could tell there was an indiscernible trace of something else in his eyes. 

“Say no, and I’ll let you be forever. Say no and walk away, and don’t ever look back,” you were pushing him dangerously and he knew it.

His mouth was pressed in a line. He knew what to say. He knew what he should have done. It was as simple as that, you were giving him an out that he was looking for ever since you smiled at him differently that terrible, fervent, rueful night. Yet…yet… 

“I don’t think I have the right to love you,” the words bittered his mouth as they came out. He was sobering up, badly. 

A chill ran through your shoulders. Warmth behind your ears. The ringing in your head suddenly stopped, and you could almost taste the sharpness in the air. When you spoke, it was clear. Measured. Repulsed. 

“You don’t have the right to love me, huh…So, I was just another girl you were fucking casually? Did I get that right?” 

At this point Kishibe himself was confused as well. He thought he made that abundantly clear, to begin with. Sure, he would call you up every other night. And started sleeping over instead of leaving right after sex. And he would buy you things and sometimes even have dinners in fancy restaurants. But none of that really meant anything, right? The way your witty jokes made him chuckle, the soft skin of your palm against his calloused knuckles; it's just ordinary stuff. Yes, he never did all of that for any of the other women he had been fucking. And he was trying really hard now to recall which other women he had been fucking recently other than you. At this point, he was starting to blame his age for this memory lapse. There must have been other women. Has he really been that drunk all this time? 

You were pretty much shaking in place by this point. Kishibe realized he should say something before you… and you did.

Your eyes were welling up. Lips quivering, red plum. There you were, begging to be loved like you were a child again. You loathed him in this moment, such a brute. And before he could even think of saying anything, the intensity of your rage got the best of you. You stormed over to the bed, hand acting on its own. A loud slap landed on his cheek faster than you could even process what was happening.

You basically spitted at his face — words stressed, vile, livid.

“You sick, old fuck. You don’t have the right to love me, but sure, let's fuck this tight, fresh pussy, yeah? You fucking pervert. Absolute disgusting freak.”

He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the fact that someone managed to land a hit on him after god knows how long, let alone a regular woman or maybe because it was the first time he was seeing you like this, verbalizing word to word how he felt inside. Slimly. Sleazy. Throbbing. 

It roused something in him. Something foreign yet familiar. An ineffable, forbidden alchemy of acute guilt and unbridled desire. He pitied himself. Almost to the point he could laugh out loud. How pathetic has he become that it's stirring him to see you like this? Eyes red with anger, glassy with tears. He was loving the fact that you hated him. And that you needed him at the same time. It was dizzying. Intoxicating.

Tears started streaming down your flushed cheeks, “Am I not good enough for you?”

You were sobbing. Uncontrollably. If he could describe what he felt at this sight, it was like someone was twisting a knife inside his heart and jerking him off at the same time.

"Come here, sweet thing."

Before you could protest, he had grabbed you by your hips, pulling you closer. Face buried in your lower belly, he was taking your scent in. Golden skin, milk powder. Then he was looking up at you, bloodshot, drunk eyes. 

Glimmering like an angel, towering over his figure. He thought of how such a delicate thing could exist in a world like this. He knew sooner or later this world would not allow such an anomaly. And he was afraid that he was a mere agent of that fate. The joke was all on him.

“So you’re telling me you love this old pervert, is that so, Angel?”

He could feel the anger boiling up again inside you, lava hot, warm tangerine. But he had different intentions, so he pulled you down on his lap. He hovered his lips on your collarbone, “You know, sweet, sweet girls like you should stay away from sick fucks like me?”, words fluttering on your skin, voice husky, soaked with lust. His hand was caressing your thighs, the insides of them. In a fraction of a second, the heat from your head shot straight to your core. That stupid easy, you couldn’t really help yourself.

“I might develop a habit…” he felt the truth slither in his throat; love is not made for people like him, but “You do burn better than whiskey.”

Habit? He was strung out on you, higher and longer than he himself knew.

"Tell Daddy what you want, baby."

He was thumbing your lips. Touch fleecy, then crude, feeling the sharpness of your teeth from over your lips. You could only whimper in response, thoughts slowly starting to melt away. 

“Use your words, sweetheart,” a command, not a request.

“I want you,” your tongue traced the words on his fingertips, now brushing against your incisors.

“You already have me, girl,” he pulled his fingers out, eyes set straight into yours, sordid stare.

“No...no like that,” words were evading you, “I want to be with you, like, like a thing.” Like you were in high school again, confessing to your crush. Nothing more humiliating than longing to be loved, “I need this to mean as much to you as it does to me,” yearning to be adored.

You were squirming under his gaze, flustered by your brash declarations. Even now, he was baffled by your sincerity, and it drove him insane. To be wanted, no, needed like this.

He could never in a thousand years come up with an explanation as to why you would even want that, let alone cry for it. He wanted to ask what exactly you saw in him. But he knew better than to hurt you anymore now. So he decided to hurt you later, only delaying the inevitable. Even as he was saying it, he knew it was wrong, “How can I deny such a pretty little thing?”, It was beyond anything he should ever give you, “My sweet girl.” Wrong. Bound to go up in flames. Destined to break that porcelain heart of yours.

“Show daddy how much you want him. Let me have all you got”. Greedy. Cruel.

His tongue was inside you, and hands gripping your hip into place. Legs over his shoulder, your head was drowning in the clouds. Back arched off the bed, you could barely take enough air in, heart beating like a prey caught, magnificently helpless.

He had you exactly where it would get your veins run magma in a coil, nose nudging you just at the right angle. Your legs closed tighter round his head with every demanding lap, every sinful suck.

“You are gonna be the death of me, sugar, if you keep this up,” he said, pushing your thighs open, burning bite marks on the flimsy skin. Your complaints rolled out in whines and fell on deaf ears. “Eager, are we?”

And then he was climbing on top of you, viper eyes, jaw clenched, stubble wet with your fluids. Piercing purple rings along his tedious way. Hard nipple between his teeth, his fingers circled your opening, stretching, mean, almost careless. Three digits in, aching, you were pulsating against his knuckles. And before you could whine some more, he pushed the other ones down your mouth, probing your warm, silky insides. The pleases you choked up, craving for more of him, were barely audible, saliva running down the sides of your mouth. Tongue rolled around his fingers, deep enough to touch your throat. 

Just when your limbs spasmed with impending ecstasy, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you gaping, hollow on either end. You looked up, frustrated, to see him licking his fingers clean with a filthy smirk. He was taste-testing you, his turn to test you, sloppily. Annoying. Tease.

“Fuck. you.” Impatient. Reeling.

“Well then, better beg, love,” he said leaning forward, fiddling with his belt buckle, messy. When you reached out to palm him, he stopped you in your tracks. “Think I asked you to do something, babe,” pinning both your wrists over your head with ease. You were raw with need, and at that point, nothing but a hole, wanting and waiting to be filled. 

He pulled your bottom lip with his teeth, drawing a pained moan out of the pit of your stomach. His thumb and index pressed into the underside of your jaw, forcing your mouth open; you were at his mercy. “Don't make me wait now, be a good sport and ask for it. prettily.”

And beg, you did. Eyes hungry, words delirious, writhing in a frenzy. Pleases in ardent pleads, in fervid prayers. Pining for the elusive, torturous release that only he knows the rites to. What a wondrous thing to be hunted down, euphoric misery. So you begged, clawing at his chest, “Please, Daddy, I need you inside of me, fuck me, please,” a hymn, an offering, please, please, please.

“That’s more like it,” a sneer, he was eyeing you down, then a flicker of intense intent, a kiss, feather-light yet doused in gasoline, undeniable love, certain devotion, “Good girl.” 

Your hair in his fist, he was thrusting in, invasive, like a dagger through your depth, the line between pain and pleasure blurred into heat waves beneath the skin. You were melting on him, underneath him, into him. 

“Who do you belong to?” he groaned in your ears. A touch too sincere.

“You”

“Name!” he grunted. Fist tighter, pace rougher. Brazen, claiming.

“You, Kishibe. I belong to you.” Full of him, filled with bliss to the brim, paradise smelt of flesh, like sweat and liquor. Base and carnal, beyond divine.

“That right. So good for me.”

When you came, he murmured in your ears, “Angel, I won’t be good enough for you even if I were born a hundred times over.”

~There is nothing that I want but you Tell me, can I be seen through?~

[autobot-ratchet]

MTMTE 12-13

MTMTE 12

still so cute that Tailgate's happy place is movie night

damn they really just cut right to the aftermath of the battle like “oh yeah btw Rewind's injured and Swerve got his face blown off. Just to let you know. Okay back to the present”

Drift is in his element, look at that smile, you go baby, slice those dudes up

gfdjks poor First Aid is so done with Chromedome's fussing, give the guy a break he's just worried about his husband

also yeah god this is the first time we get to say explicitly that they're married, isn't it? I remember being completely fucking floored by that the first time I read it, like “wait what do you mEAN THEY'RE ACTUALLY TOGETHER??? LIKE IN THE ROMANCE WAY?!?!?” like I had picked up on the queercoding vibes but then the comic was just like “yeah coding-schmoding, they're queer” and I simply could not believe that shit lmAO

also btw Cyclonus is injured too. Just fyi

I've made fun of Tailgate for embellishing his past accomplishments but damn does he do a good job of stringing Rewind along lmAO kid's a pretty good liar under enough pressure

I love how they show us that horrifying panel of Swerve's fucked up face without context and then later the context turns out to be “yeah he just accidentally shot himself in the face.” he looked down the fuckin barrel of the thing god lmAO

I love the concept of innermost energon so much. For a race that's constantly morphing and changing to give away the one part of themselves that always stays the same no matter what, the fuckin romance of it all

I love Tailgate trying to gas up Chromedome by constantly trash-talking Dominus just on principle alone lmAO “Oh that's Rewind's ex? Fuck that guy he's got nothing on you” “Tailgate he was an incredible person” “Incredibly cringe, maybe”

sorry I am now distracted by the idea of Tailgate using the word “cringe,” that wasn't nearly as much of a thing when this comic was coming out but he absolutely would, holy shit

ooohhhgdjhfs Drift recruiting Chromedome for The Overlord Thing while he's at his lowest and Rewind's incapacitated is so slimy, he really does have to do all the dirty work for this project huh

Cyclonus immediately goes back to help Tailgate clean up, he's making progress, we're getting thereeeeeeeee

I think this is the first time (of many) that Cyclonus looks at Chromedome and Rewind's relationship and is like “...........huh.” Like, he definitely uses them as a framework for his own relationship with Tailgate and wants what they have, even if he doesn't quite realize it at this point

Ah, right, I forgot that Whirl helps Rewind jump his spark out of guilt for nearly killing him alongside Cyclonus lmAO

And Cyclonus protected Rewind.... nnnnNNGFHSDFNgsdf *points at Cyclonus* HAHA YOU HAVE FEELINGS... YOU CARE........

MTMTE 13

I like the implication that this isn't the first time Drift has grabbed Swerve like a football

also love Cyclonus calling Drift too young, both of you are old as dicks

I will never be able to think about the bit where Swerve asks Drift to be his roommate and Drift is like “no thanks, in my off time I prefer to be alone in a state of heightened isolation exploring the limits of solitude” without thinking about that vine that's like “sorry dude I can't go do social event, I'm busy” and then it cuts to him in his room alone, drinking a can of beer with one hand and playing jock jams on a keyboard with the other, this one, this is the vine

I fucking forgot Swerve was still here, I thought they closed the door on him lmfAO they really just had that whole conversation with the door wide open

I'm still so sad we only got the good holomatter avatar generator after Ratchet had used his old one, not to mention everyone whose avatars we never saw. Every day I wonder what Drift's avatar would've looked like

Magnus shoving his way between Swerve and Tailgate, making Tailgate scoot three entire seats over

“I think the program is struggling with human gender- Do I look like a 'Mary Sue?'” ah-HAH *slaps knee*

Aww, I forgot Magnus's avatar is Verity, that's so sweet. I didn't know who Verity was the first time I read this, but now that I do it does hit different lmAO

fuckin rip Magnus. Fhdksjkl I just noticed Rewind recording in the background, you can see the light of his camera on his silhouette

“Why do I get the impression that you can't remember your worst enemy?” nnnnnnNNNNNGGHH

drunk Magnus is cute

“Where IS Chromedome?” “Oh, he's, erm... I'm sure he told me...” NNNNNNNGGHHFFGHGHFGH

“Savor this feeling, everyone. You never know what's around the corner.” yEAH, YOU GUYS SURE DONT...

Cyclonus teaching Tailgate to sing in old Cybertronian... Tailgate said earlier in the issue that Cyclonus was the only link to his past and that was defs on purpose so that this could be Cyclonus's moment of realizing that Tailgate is much the same for him

aww Swerve, buddy... I mean to be fair I would've done the same thing in Blurr's position, Swerve comes on a little strong, but oh man. Swerve's not a bad guy, he's just unbearably lonely but Blurr never could've known that

oh right this is the first little written blurb we get hell yeah

Rung quietly marveling at the miracle of Cybertronian physiology like. That's YOU!!! That's more you than you could ever know!!!!! He doesn't even know that he's the originator of all that!!!!!!!!

it is still so funny that Rung regained the ability to move by getting so sick of Swerve's shit that he subconsciously mustered the power to move his arm so he could shush him

mmmmphphgndfm one of the only things Rung remembers during his recovery period was the smile Skids gave him when he corrected the mispronunciation of his name... SKIDS IS REAL SWEET........

gfdjk the gang watching Cyclonus browse a gift shop like they're ethologists and Cyclonus is a species of animal they've never seen before

godjdfska Magnus trying to make a joke and failing harder than anyone ever could is still so funny.. HE'S TRYING OKAY........ Also, absolutely hysterical joke to be telling to Rung specifically

God Rodimus is such an ass lmAO “What is wrong with people” he asks the therapist, genuinely. Simply solve mental illness, why don't you

ooh, get him, Rung, stick to your guns, attaboy

God. Watching Rodimus lie through his teeth about investigating the voice Rung and Red Alert heard... I mean, it was never going to work out, bringing Overlord onto the ship, it was a doomed endeavor from the start, but seeing all these moments of Drift and Rodimus trying to keep it under wraps is just so bitter lmAO They did their best, their awful, awful best

[risingshards]

I've been hovering around a subscriber number and it's been going up and down a bit and cuz it went down a chunk today I'm a lil anxious, I worry about everything constantly so this probably isn't a big deal, but instead of dwelling on it I'm gonna try and self promote and maybe overcome this subscriber hurdle! So Self Promo Saturday in addition to Storyteller Saturday? Is that a thing already?

Anyways, if you've followed me for a while you've probably seen me talk about my main series, Rising Shards!

Rising Shards is my passion project, a super long web novel that updates Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. It's always tough for me to explain it, but in short it's part fantasy series, part slice of life, part comedy, part adventure, part romance. It's got a huge cast of characters that a vast majority of are queer!

What's life like in a world where monster folks called Cani are as normal as rainy days? What's it like to juggle learning how to use your powers on fantasy adventures with taking tests and giving speeches in class? How about balancing having crushes and getting over breakups with growing tails or having full on werewolf moments? That's what Zeta Faleur, a trans girl getting over a bad breakup, has to do when her fangs come in and she has to go to a Cani school.

Other main characters have to deal with similar issues as well. Zeta's best friend Oka, a kindhearted girl with a troubled upbringing struggles to fit in at school, gets her first crush around the same time she gets her first role in a school play. Kalei, a snarky gamer jock, begins to find her own identity and all the angst and joy that comes with it. Lillia, a by the books honor student, goes through as many crushes as she gets good grades, but what happens when someone finally likes her back? Longtime friends Aira and Laenie face off with the prospect of drifting apart, while similarly close besties Iris and Maia deal with getting closer. Marmalade, a trans girl who is a late transfer to Rising Shards, strains with self doubt and acceptance. Roux goes on a gender focused journey and finds confidence in themselves. Zeta's older sister Stella starts crushing on Zeta's teacher, Dr. Evy Diast, but are there sparks between them? (given that these two also have an 18+ side series which can be read here, the answer is probably yes).

And that's just a chunk of the characters, yes there are somehow more, including wizards, pop stars, goofy principals, princesses, wannabe hall monitors, filming experts, coffee lovers, gambling obsessed gremlins, mean girls, exes, and enemies! I love stories with a huge cast of characters and actually spent time in college getting my writing degree writing essays about series that juggle tons and tons of characters. For the others, you'll have to read the series to meet them! :)

If the length of the series is intimidating (understandable!), I like to think of it like a TV show or a long manga or light novel series. It may be a ton of chapters and words and such, but they're split up into episodes and seasons, so each chunk of episodes is a complete little arc like a TV episode, and each season completes a big story. With such a huge cast and the way I pace the story, I try to use the space I have to the fullest to spend lots and lots of time with the characters.

If you wanna check the series out, it'd mean the world to me. And big bonus if you subscribe as well. :) If Tapas isn't your jam, Rising Shards is also available on Scribble Hub!

Art for Rising Shards is done by the wonderful Flopicas!

[badger-with-a-boa]

(Long post)

I just had to check the comments under this post.

Trigger warning for a fuckton of transphobia, mentions of murder & rape from my rant.

Apologies for any spelling mistakes and such.

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I am fuming right now. I'm not even surprised of all the transphobia, but the amount of it is sickening. One comment was good, that's it.

I'll never be able to love my fiancée in peace without some transphoic asshole saying I can't be a real lesbian if I'm with her, if I love her, if I'm okay with her being pre-op. Shut the fuck up.

I have to live in fear every fucking day that there's a decently high chance my fiancée could end up harmed, raped or even murdered. It all started because of disguising and close minded bigots like the people here. I have to hope every single damn day and every single time my fiancée goes out in public that someone won't attack her. Imagine living with that.

Imagine the families, the friends, the partners that lost someone simply because they were trans. Imagine someone finding out their wife was killed for simply existing in the same room because she was trans. Imagine finding out your brother was attacked and raped by a stranger or date because he was trans. Imagine living with that pain for the rest of your life.

My fiancée is such an amazing woman. She is a talented writer. She loves music with her entire heart. She feeds deer in her backyard. She got so excited seeing bunnies play outside her work. She loves coffee and cheese. She likes to play Animal Jam for nostalgia all the time. She feeds the stray cats in her area. She loves going to thift stores and antique stores. She loves the color purple. She adores horror movies. She tells me facts about the Doctor Who franchise so I better understand references. She's so excited for us to finally see each other next week for the first time. We plan to have a horror movie marathon and eat Halloween candy while wearing matching costumes on Halloween. We plan to be the gayest motherfuckers around.

She's fucking human. She's a sister, daughter, a fiancée, a niece. She wants to be a mom one day. She wants to make music, write comics, have cats and ferrets and bunnies, live in a nice home with a wraparound porch and have rocking chairs so we can watch the sunset together.

Does that sound predatory? Does that sound disgusting? Does it sound like she's harming anyone? Does it seem like she's a man pretending to be a woman to prey upon lesbians?

We are not a straight couple. We are not straight with extra steps. We are both lesbians who love each other and are gay as fuck. She is a talented, beautiful, kind-loving human being that just wants to fucking live without watching behind her back. I'm allowed to love her, I'm allowed to love her body pre-op and post-op, I'm allowed to love her before & after she's on estrogen, I'm allowed to hold her hand and kiss her in public, I'm allowed to marry her, I'm allowed to want a family with her, I'm allowed to love my fiancée. It does not make me less of a lesbian to do so.

She's the love of my life and no one would ever convince me she's just a man pretending to be a woman, she's sick, she's dangerous, she's a risk to children. She is a woman. She always has been. She's my girlfriend, my fiancée, and eventually my wife. We will always be lesbians. No chromosome or genitalia bullshit changes that. She's my girl, she's my beautiful love, she's my whole heart and soul. I'll fight tooth and nail to stand up for her, to fight beside her, to protect her. I'd happily go to prison for attacking someone if they harmed her. Whether that be a complete stranger, a family member, or even police. She can easily stand up for herself, but that will never stop me from being right beside her.

To all transphobes, to all lesbians who think trans women can't be lesbians, to all lesbians that "speak for all lesbians" like this, to anyone that thinks trans women are men, to anyone that thinks trans women can't be lesbians. Sincerely, go fuck yourselves.

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

It's A Long Road to Recovery.

(post Dark-Cream story)

"How's the water my Love? " Cross asked, dipping the tips of his fingers into the bath.

"perfect" Dream replied sinking slightly deeper into the water. The warmth wrapped around his bones and felt amazing on all the aches and pains.

"you got it just perfect"

The guard smiled wide "I'm glad to hear that, soak as long as you want, you deserve it"

The two had returned to the place they called home and Cross had drawn his beloved a bath. If Cross had it his way, he would have attempted to create a full spar treatment to pamper the bruised guardian. However, Dream had been more then happy to have something simple and the way he sighed as he relaxed in the water filled Cross with warmth.

It was so good to be home, even if it was mostly just a void with some rooms and things, it felt like home now. Though Cross wondered, with no anti sanses did that mean that him and Dream could settle down? They were engaged after all.

That thought make him smile wider. it had definitely been a long journey, but now that it was over him and Dream could finally be together. A family.

The gloopy mass had mostly washed off him now, though his joints where not completely free of it. Sadly, the lack of gloop now revealed just how damaged Dreams body was. There where huge cracks running across many of his bones and many bruised and stained areas. Then there was his eye.

Cross was trying hard not to look at it, but he didn't want Dream to know he was. Of course Dream was still beautiful, he always would be, but that didn't make it easy.

The wound was large and caused Cross to think about how it must have felt for him during the transformation. He hadn't seen the whole thing, but the sounds of Dreams bones splitting and his cries of agony became present in his mind whenever he looked at the eye.

It made him shudder to think of the pain he must have, and still was in.

"how's the" he started glancing away "the.... Eye?"

Dream sat up a bit.

"it's fine.... Mostly numb really"

He could sense his partners concern and didn't want to tell him the whole truth. It was painful and throbbed slowly, especially when touched. It threaten to hurt for a long time, not that it was a punishment he didn't deserve.

As soon as he was done in the bath he'd have to bind it.

Dream felt no shame in Cross being there while he bathed. He knew he wanted to stay in the water for a few hours, and those where hours that he wanted to spend with Cross. So therefore he'd asked Cross to join him.

The guardian stretched, wincing slightly as his back bones slid together. It ached and probably would for quite a while.

He pressed his fingers into the crook of his elbow joint, sighing in relief as more of the gloop stuck there gave way. The slime had dried and jammed up most of his joints, making him feel stiff and useless. It would take hours to clean, but it seemed like the warm water was helping it give way.

Taking a breath, he ducked his whole head and body under the water. Laying there under it for a few moments to soak, before resurfacing for air.

There was a trickle as Cross continued to flick the surface of the water with his fingers. Dream lent forward to shake the water from his skull and felt a sharp pain in his back. It didn't last very long but it was quite a surprise so it caused him to suck in air quickly through his teeth. Cross looked up straight away.

"Dream!?"

Dream took a breath and slowly moved his body back so he was lent against the bath again. The pain stopped.

"j-just moved to fast.... It will be fine, Nightmare said the first day was the most painful"

"right" Cross said, still concerned but with a slightly harder tone. "Rest...."

"I will Crossy, if Night was able to run, I'll be able to take care of myself" Dream replied, trying to sound reassuring.

He scooped up some of the bubbly foam from the waters surface in his hand and blew it in Cross' direction. Cross batted it with his hand in a playful cat-like fashion.

Dream smiled, seeing Cross acting playfully with him, it had been a long time since they'd been able to just exist as a couple. He would have continued to blow bubbles at him, but an intrusive thought ruined the momentary joy and it made him freeze.

" ¿Estaba él en este dolor?" he asked quietly. Cross glance sideways at him.

"hm?"

"Nightmare..." Dream clarified "......was he....is he in this pain?" Cross sighed.

"Dreamboat, you need to focus on your own recovery" he said, once again flicking the bath water with his fingers, though slightly more aggressively.

His tone was firm and slightly bitter "I know you worry, but he has Killer"

Shifting his legs around a bit, Dream sighed. He knew his partner was right, he shouldn't let himself worry about Nightmare to much, they would be in contact in a few days.

Yet he just couldn't help it. If he was in this bad of shape after a few months, then how bad would it be for Night after hundreds of years.

"but what if he-

-just drop it!"

Startled at Cross' tone, Dream flinched slightly. He wasn't used to Cross speaking to him like that and he didn't like it.

He narrowed his good eye at him and the soldier sheepishly looked away. Dream sensed shame from him, but also anger. His emotions were a mess.

"sorry i just meant-

-You're still thinking about what he did to you....."

Cross' shoulders tensing confirmed to Dream that he was right. His expression softened.

"Cross..."

"it's not just what he put me through" he said, still avoiding Dreams gaze "it's what he did to you... And heaven....." his voice trailed off and his eyes watered slightly.

Dream felt his soul twist as the memories flooded in. Feeling suddenly very cold, he lowered his legs deeper in the water.

Cross squeezed his eyes shut and shook the tears away. Before opening his mouth to keep speaking, but closing it again.

"oh.. Cross" Dream said, reaching forward in an effort to comfort him. But he soon lowered his arm when Cross continued to speak.

"I know he's your brother... And I know you want to reconnect with him...." he swallowed and turned back to his lover. "I'm not gonna stop you... And I'm not going to hold a grudge, I just need.....

".... time" Dream said finishing Cross' sentence. Cross nodded in response.

He felt selfish just saying it

Even if Dream seemed to understand he still felt bad.

The reality of everything was still catching up with him and it was a slightly rough reality.

He'd been on happy to see his beloved gloop free and happy, that he'd completely pushed aside any kind of confrontation he'd had in mind for Killer or Nightmare.

Both had serious partaking in his pain and he hadn't realised how much he resented them until now.

But the reality that had just hit him was that Dream was going to reconnect with with his brother and if Cross was going to be Dreams husband then Nightmare was going to be a part of his.... Family.

"........"

That thought hurt.

Dream stared at his partner for a long time, as Cross watched the water flicking under his fingers. Cross' emotions were very negative, Dream knew he needed to say something.

"it's ok Mi Soldado, you aren't the only one. .."

Cross looked up at him again.

"I may have forgiven him in my head, but I still need to forgive him in my heart". He struggled to keep his voice steady.

"I-it's been so many years"

he bent over his knees and hugged his legs tightly.

"just like my face, there are a lot of cracks to heal..." he'd sighed "it's not just you"

Cross' emotions calmed slightly and he relaxed at Dream's reassurance.

"Its going to be a long road to recovery Crossy, for all of us"

Cross gave him a soft smile, and reached forward to cup his soapy cheek.

"I'll be here every step of the way" he said in a gentle tone.

Dream melted.

He leaned over to catch Cross in a kiss and the soldier happy obliged. It was a soft and affectionate kiss. Something that they had both been needing in that moment.

After pulling away Dream sank back into the water with a sigh. For the first time in a long time, he felt that things were going to be OK.

So here I am was another little bonus Dark-Cream scene. I came up with this recently and sketched it out. I wasn't originally gonna finish it but @zu-is-here asked me to so I did. I'm not really 100% satisfied with it you know? The bubbles was horrible to draw, I'm proud of the water and the bones though. The writing was just a cute Scene I came up with. Because it can't just be all fine and dandy can it? Nightmare put them both through hell and everyone needs time to heal. Idk if that makes sense? But I hope you enjoyed.

Original cross and dream belong to jakei95 and jokublog

Original shattered dream belongs to @galacii-gallery

Based off the Dark-Cream ship by @zu-is-here and the comic by @zu-is-here

[mouseymatchmaker]

Can I have a matchup for Marvel and DC, please? I'm a 5'2'' black bisexual genderfluid/non binary female (she/her pronouns) who is chubby with dark black braided hair, dark brown eyes, dimples and is nearsighterd and wears glasses. Hobbies include playing video games, drawing, writing, reading manga and comics, wathcing anime and movies (mostly supernatural and horror), eating sweets and junk food in general. ❤️

(Part 2) I’m quiet and shy, tomboyish, somewhat aloof around new people but I can be a very quirky, awkward, goofy, mildly clingy, sarcastic dork with a strange sense of humor when I get close to them. I have heavy bouts of depression to the point where I can’t get out of bed in the morning. I prefer wearing t-shirts and jeans but I will wear a skirt or a dress on occassion. I’m also somewhat touch starved and just want to be loved. ❤️

(Part 3) I’ve also been described as having the patience of a saint but I do have my limits. I’m a very insecure piece of shit and I’m also kind of a ditz and a massive daydreamer. ❤️

Here you go sweetie pie

Marvel:

Peter immediately jumped out at me because of your hobbies. They are the kinds of things I see him being into. Video games? He’s down for it when he’s available! Anime and movies seem his thing too but less so about supernatural and horror… You’ll have a little jumping spider beside you at all times during those movies. Again, sweets and junk too! When it’s finally a quiet day and he’s not on call, curling up with takeout and playing the latest video game is your jam! Those are the kind of dates he prefers because he can actually wind down at home. 

He’s also quite quiet and shy so you might not hit it off right away but you’re also both dorks and dorks stick together! He respects you when you have bouts of depression and doesn’t force you out of bed, he asks what you need from him. He’ll get water for you, put some food in your room that you can pick at over the day and will ask if you want him to stay. Peter won’t push you, he’ll let you go at your own pace. 

DC:

Dick Grayson struck me as a good match for you and very much for the same reasons as Peter. He’s always very busy and takeout is just easier to order after a long patrol. Needless to say, Alfred will be sending care packages to you so you both maintain a healthy diet. He’s more down for watching anime and movies than he is for most of the other hobbies. Dick definitely wouldn’t like shooter games, he sees enough of it in real life to take too much pleasure in them. A good RPG for him, even cooking mama would help him relax. 

He doesn’t mind that you’re dorky and clingy, he loves a good hug when he’s in the mood. He loves it when you wear his t-shirts though; he’ll leave them conveniently in your clothes draws just to see you in them. Gets matching t-shirts for you. You only need your patience with him if it’s been a rough mission/patrol. He tries not to vent or take things out on you but he can just get so frustrated. He’ll always apologise, you just need to give him his time and space.

[gffa]

Hi! In my last ask you said you loved to talk so joke's on you, now I'm gonna flood you with questions xD There are a few things I'd like to have your thoughts on, from a nebie perspective. Here's the first one. Even when I hadnt' wathced the movies yet, I had inevitably heard a lot of negative things about the prequels. What are the reasons in your opinion? And since you are so positive about them, I would ask you to instead highlight some of their strongest points :)

Hello!  You act like I don’t mean it when I say I love to talk, but BOY DO I.  :DPrequels hate is one of those things that I think comes from a variety of places, so there are common trends, but we’re never going to be able to cover all the reasons every single person dislikes them, and I’m not even going to try.  These are going to be true for a lot of people, but there are going to be a bunch that have their own reasons that I’ve never thought much about–sometimes trash reasons, sometimes valid reasons.Mostly, it comes down to how they conduct themselves, that if someone just doesn’t like the prequels for whatever reason, but they’re perfectly kind to those who do, then their reasons are entirely valid for them and I have zero problem with them!  I have friends who aren’t really that keen on the prequels and we get along fine, because they’re sweethearts and I hope I can return even half as much civility.  (This applies to everything I like and someone else doesn’t.)That said, some of the biggest reasons people dislike the prequels, in my experience:- There’s a trend of people who really wanted Darth Vader to be a power fantasy character, to be an awesome badass, rather than a hot mess.  This tends to go hand in hand with people disliking the way Hayden Christensen played the character, because he was very attractive, because he was a whiny teenager, because he was an anxious mess, because he didn’t have this strong core identity.  I think this is part of the TCW!Anakin tends to be more popular with some people, because that Anakin does project himself better, Matt Lanter plays the character with a more polished voice and he’s more traditionally angry about stuff, instead of teary-eyed, fidgety angry that Hayden played him as.I’ve said this a bunch of times, but I think a lot of people disregard Hayden’s acting because they think Anakin is supposed to project this strong sense of self, that he should have a strong voice (literally and figuratively), that he should be clear-eyed and hold himself up well.  Instead, his voice is often thin and hesitant or arrogant and whiny, he fiddles with the hem of his sleeve, he paces back and forth, his lip wobbles when he cries.And this is a brilliant choice on Hayden’s part, imo, because ANAKIN SKYWALKER IS AN ANXIOUS HOT MESS.  That’s it, that’s who Darth Vader is.  Someone who had all this tremendous power, who believed he was more special than everyone else around him, who wanted to be more significant than everyone else, who was angry and confused and didn’t want to do the hard work of really looking at himself, that’s why all the theraputic suggestions in the galaxy weren’t helping, because he didn’t want to, that’s why his countenance on Mustafar is hard as hell to watch.  Because this isn’t someone breaking bad in an awesome way, this is a tragedy.  This is Anakin Skywalker, someone we care about, going over the edge in an ugly, uncomfortable way–and Hayden portrays that beautifully.I think a lot of people really didn’t want that, they wanted Baby Vader being some demon kid or they wanted him to be a badass who just sliced through everything with his lightsaber.  Not a young man who was so destroyed by the loss of his mother that he killed a bunch of villagers in a tearful rage and wanted to be soothed and absolved of it afterwards, instead of a HOLY SHIT THAT WAS BADASS moment, we got an awful, ugly moment in a way that we should think was awful and ugly.- George Lucas was always interested in pushing the boundaries of what was possible, which means that a lot of the stuff they were going (like the motion capture stuff, the background scenery CGI, etc.) are things that they had to create entirely new tech for, sometimes stuff that was so bleeding edge and so well done that they’re still using the same tech today.  But, because it was such new tech at the time, it doesn’t always age well.  Like, ROTS still looks really good, but even I, a staunch defender, have to admit that the TPM battle scenes are clearly very old and not nearly as integrated as they would be today.A lot of people judge the quality of the movies based on today’s standards, rather than taking them as part of the time they were from.  As well as a lot of people really like a more practical look effect and, honestly, they used THOUSANDS of practical effects and models in the prequels, they just look so much a part of the film that we often don’t notice.- I’ve heard this said before and I think it’s a good point–a lot of the problem for some people is that, for a long time, that’s all there was of Star Wars.  Right now, if you don’t like the sequels, you still have a ton of other stuff to be interested in, you can read in a whole bunch of other eras.  You can watch Rebels or watch The Clone Wars, if you don’t like Resistance, it’s not a big deal.  If you don’t like TFA and TLJ, you can just go read the Star Wars ongoing comic or the first Darth Vader series.  Right now, we can even read or listen to a bunch of prequels novels!People have calmed down a lot on the prequels, in part because those who enjoyed them as kids are growing up and getting a voice in media, and partly because those who really hated them now have other places to do.  “Eh, it’s not my thing, but it’s not the ONLY Star Wars coming out right now, so I guess it’s fine.”- When TPM first came out, there was a ton of love for it, it’s just that reviews on-line turned on it pretty quickly and started spinning stories about how it was fucking awful, and those voices grew so loud that that became the narrative.  There’s this idea that the prequels were failures or whatever, but in reality, if you look at the box office numbers (especially adjusted for inflation), they made plenty of money.  They’re all within the top 100 and, even without adjustment, TPM and ROTS made reasonably close to $1B each than anything.  And this was in a time before Marvel movies were a thing, where we’re kind of used to that happening, but it wasn’t always such a thing.- A lot of people dislike the dialogue and, hey, that’s fair, it’s not for everyone.  George Lucas himself said that he’s the kind of wooden dialogue, as well as a lot of people have noted that the movies are based on a style that’s out of step with modern audiences (George said this as well, iirc), and if you go watch a lot of stuff from the ‘30s and ‘40s, you can definitely notice a lot of parallels in the style of the prequels.It reads as stiff and awkward to a lot of people, so they think it’s bad (and that’s fair), but I think there’s a large element of that it’s a style that a lot of people just straight up don’t like.- One of the biggest problems is that the movies were made for kids, not for the people who used to be kids when the original came out and they didn’t like that the movies hadn’t grown up with them in the same way.  The hated podrace sequence and Jar Jar Binks are classic examples of this–a lot of adults haaaaaaate those things, but if you go around asking kids, suddenly a lot more of them could watch that podracing sequence ALL DAY LONG and never get bored, a lot more kids found Jar Jar genuinely funny.George Lucas has always been upfront about how the movies are intended for kids.  That’s not to say adults can’t enjoy them as well, they’re part of the audience too, but they’re very much movies that kept a younger audience in mind, and that frustrated a lot of people who had become adults themselves and wanted a more “adult” Star Wars.So, it comes down to a lot of different reasons that people don’t like the prequels, sometimes they’re fair (a difference of tastes, they’re out of step with modern audiences, the pacing isn’t always great, etc.) and sometimes they’re bullshit (wanting the movies to be something they weren’t and they’re inherently bad because Baby Vader wasn’t an awesome badass, but instead a crying hot mess with too much power).Here on tumblr, there’s a ton of love for the prequels, to the point that I forget sometimes that a lot of the rest of the world still falls into being kind of dicks about the movies.  But every so often, I’ll be listening to an entertainment podcast and they bash on the prequels or Anakin’s character, or even within fandom, someone will say that the acting was terrible or the dialogue was objectively terrible, and I remember, oh, yeah, that’s still a thing.Things are easier now, those who loved the movies are getting a voice in the media, there’s more stuff for non-fans to concentrate on instead if they don’t like them, there are more defenders now, more pockets to get lost in, but for awhile we all kind of had to be jammed together and that mean some voices were louder than others.  And that got perpetuated a lot so that’s what you heard.  “The prequels are bad.” was said over and over and over, until that became the only narrative that a lot of people heard.Whew, okay, that was long and there’s going to be plenty of other reasons that aren’t touched on, this isn’t meant to say non-fans are a monolith in their reasons why they don’t like them, etc.  But those are the major reasons I usually see.  But what do I love about the prequels?I love that the characters really spoke to me in a way I never expected.  I’ve dealt my whole life with anxiety, depression, and a difficult time really looking at myself and facing my inner demons.  I relate to Anakin Skywalker in so many ways, and even when I call him a garbage bag, it’s done with such affection because, I have been there, my guy.  I’ve struggled to really learn to let go of things, to make peace with a lot of the shit in my head, so when the Jedi came along and actually had some really good advice about calming your tits before you hurt someone, that you had to have internal self-discipline to overcome a lot of the shit inside you, that spoke to me as well.  I strive to be a better person, to let go of the anger that consumed me and cost me years of my life and friendships.  I fell in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi, who is pretty much the best person in that entire galaxy, that he doesn’t have to be perfect to be wholly good.  And also he’s hilarious.  I fell in love with Padme, a woman who accomplished such great things in the galaxy, who could move metaphorical mountains, while still being internally fragile in a lot of ways, that her heart broke so badly, she just couldn’t keep living.  I’ve been there, too.I am IN LOVE with the worldbuilding of the prequels–the worlds of the prequels are, honestly, the best of all the eras.  Coruscant is incredible, it’s easily my favorite planet.  But Naboo is gorgeous.  Getting to see a little of Alderaan is incredible.  Mustafar was INCREDIBLE to see.  Geonosis and Kashyyyk are incredibly cool to look at!  I kind of want to legit take a walk on Felucia and see all the flora.  Kamino and Utapau look amazing, too.  Umbara and Dathomir and Malastare and Mandalore and Christopsis and Cato Nemoidia and Mon Calamari all look amazing when we get to see them, too.And I’m in love with the more fleshed out politics of the era because it feels like they actually have impact and weight there.  Politics has always been part of Star Wars, but we really don’t see it that much in the Rebellion era and not even that much in the Resistance/First Order era.  We may get more of it as the New Republic is explored more (like we do in the Aftermath books) and I’ll be fascinated then, but the prequels went hard on politics and, yeah, a lot of people disliked them, but I think looking around at our current day setting kind of proves just HOW INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT POLITICS ARE.If nothing else, I love the prequels just for the Jedi Temple and Jedi Aesthetics, give me ALL THE WARM SUNLIGHT CORRIDORS, the sheer sense of peace and harmony radiating off that place, all the incredible art and design touches in pretty much everything, the ceremonial dance combat we see the younglings do in TCW, the giant open hallways and verandas, the star map that shimmers into view, the robes that actually look super soft, the gardens that are probably everywhere in that place, GOD, I JUST WANT TO GO THERE, LET ME IN, LET ME IIIIIIIIIINNNNNN.I love the prequels unreservedly because it was the point where I felt like the galaxy was really a genuinely huge galaxy, it’s the place I get the best sense of scale of how massive everything really is, and it’s the part where I love the pieces and the characters the most.  I think the potential–and sometimes even the realization of that potential on-screen–is the most and it’s the place where I want to play with the world and the characters the most, it’s full of hilarity and seriousness, tragedy and hope, good people making their way through a shitty universe, but still trying to help as many people as they can, and my favorite dumpster fire of a character that I could spend all day analyzing and digging into the reasons why he chooses to do things and never get tired of ANY OF IT.Honestly, this is not necessarily a great list of Why The Prequels Are Great, mostly because *waves hand at the general mess that is my blog* pretty much this whole thing here is my ongoing attempt to put it into words and pictures why love this corner of the GFFA so much.

[life-b4-death]

1,3,27,63,and 74 for the let's get personal post! ❤

Yaayyyy!! I love getting asks 😊❤

1. 6 of the songs I listen to the most

If you had asked me this question a year ago, you would have gotten some REALLY sad indie songs but now you are getting all the angsty post- hardcore stuff I've been jamming to recently lol

All the Ways I Could Die - Arrows in Action

Starving to be Empty - Dayseeker

Sympathy - Too Close to Touch

Talk to a Friend - Slaves

Disease - Beartooth

Resentment - A Day to Remember

I do need you to know tho that my most listened to song last year was Montero by Lil Nas X and that I listened to the album Long Lost by Lord Huron so many times that every single song was in my top 25 songs of the year

3. Book nearest to me, page 23, line 17

Its a Moon Knight comic so I'll post a pic of the page

27. Whats a sound I hate? Sound I love?

Anything rattling when I'm driving in the car drives me NUTS! The plastic that was around the radio in my last car was rattling and i straight up just reached over and snapped it off lmao.

I LOVE the sound of rivers/streams running, or the ocean, or waterfalls 😍 I need to go hiking more 😔

63. My secret weapon to get someone to like me.

This one is interesting since I'm ace/aro and I feel like this is generally regarded as a romantic type of "liking" haha. Generally tho, I am just really nice to people and I try to match their energy and conversation topics and that works pretty damn good.

74. A song that always makes me happy when I hear it

405 by This Wild Life is a fantastic one but I also really love Bartender by James Blunt

Thank you so much for asking!! I love these ask games 😎

[sapphicscholar]

hi so I didn't know who to ask but in my psych class we're learning about adolescent psychology, & there was this unit on developing interest in relationships. It went way into detail on how the brain changes during that time, which was interesting, but ofc my gay ass couldn't relate. at the end all it said was 'it's different for homosexuals.' I guess I'm wondering if you know of any way to learn about psychology relating to LGBT people? srsly im thirsty for anything in academia I can relate to

(same psych anon) that was a pretty specific question so I guess like do you have any info or know of any links/ websites/places to learn about lgbt history and lives and stuff like that in an academic way? bc I love school & learning but I’ve always wanted to learn more about myself and people like me, but they never teach that in schools.

Oh my gosh SO MANY THINGS! Okay, so, the psych stuff is pretty outside of my knowledge but I asked my gf (she does the science in this relationship while my gay ass just reads a whole lot of books), and she recommends Helen Fisher and looking at the researchers at the Society for the Scientific Study of Sexuality or the Kinsey Institute, as well as The Sage Encyclopedia of LGBTQ Studies (it’s an online resource a lot of universities subscribe to). But I’d also say that as far as thinking about developmental narratives, LGBTQ memoirs are a great place to start, especially since so many of them go through their own experiences of having to confront this heteronormative, cis-centric narrative that just doesn’t fit them and their lives. 

So some good queer history authors are: John D’Emilio (comprehensive, if a bit male-centric), Lillian Faderman (writing all about lesbian history, including more recent history; very well-respected; she’s got some issues in her scholarship that by no means discount it as a whole, but I’m happy to talk more about if you want), Michael Bronski (his Queer History of the United States is really accessible), George Chauncey (it’s just of NYC, but still fun), Estelle B. Freedman, Foucault (though it’s not quite “history,” it’s a kind of history meets theory of regimes of power and how sexuality got tied up in that), Martha Vicinus (I adore her), Valerie Traub (goes all the way back to the early modern period), and so many others who really focus more on niche history, so I won’t list them here. There are some web resources, but I know a lot of them are databases that are subscription-based. I’ll see what I can’t dig up in the next couple of days as far as free websites. I know they exist; it’s just a matter of having the time to look…

Okay, you didn’t specifically say you were interested in literature but bc I taught literature and think it’s a great way to learn about the history of a group, I’m gonna list some anyway and you can feel free to disregard!

Patricia Highsmith, The Price of Salt (or Carol, depends on the year it was printed) – you can also check out the movie! I find the two to be complementary (the book gives you Therese’s POV almost exclusively, whereas the movie shows much more of Carol’s story) 

Alison Bechdel, Fun Home is her graphic novel/memoir that’s really excellent, but the comic strip that sort of launched her as a public persona (at least within the lesbian community) was Dykes to Watch Out For, quite a bit of which is available for free online

Henry James, The Bostonians – one of the first recognizable depictions of a queer female character in literature (not really…I’d trouble that as a professor, but that’s how it gets taught in general, and it was one of the first books where even contemporary reviewers were quick to note that there was something “wrong” or “morbid,” which was 19th C. code for what would come to be understood as lesbian sexuality, about Olive Chancellor) – free online, though it’s James at his most….Jamesian, which means it’s not that accessible

The poetry of Emily Dickinson! It’s all free online. There’s a ton of it, though much of it isn’t obviously queer

James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room – gets into bisexual identity in a way a lot of works don’t do; on the sadder side…fair warning 

Virginia Woolf! Especially Orlando or Mrs. Dalloway – the former has been called “the longest and most charming love-letter in literature” (to Woolf’s longtime friend and lover, Vita Sackville-West) and deals with the fluidity of gender and time; the latter has quite a few flashbacks to the brief childhood romance of the protagonist and her friend. Both of them are great, but Woolf, as a modernist, can have a writing style that’s difficult to get into at first (for instance, time really isn’t stable or linear, which is something I adore about her, but definitely takes some getting used to). They’re both available free online through Project Gutenberg

Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness – it’s a classic, in the sense that it’s one of those books people sort of expect you to have read if you do lesbian literature. It’s certainly an interesting story and told well, but it’s not even close to a happy ending and is rather conciliatory to prevailing norms (though even still it was taken to the courts under the  obscenity laws) - free online, though!

Sarah Waters – a contemporary novelist who writes almost all historical fiction about queer women! Some of her stories are better known (e.g. Tipping the Velvet), but they’re pretty much all great. Varying degrees of angst, but definitely an accessible read

Maggie Nelson, The Argonauts – sort of experimental in form (it’s fiction with footnotes!); it deals with a lesbian woman coming to terms with her partner’s transition and her own identity during the process 

E.M. Forster, Maurice – even though it was first drafted in the 1910s, Forster edited it throughout his life, and, given the subject matter, which was also autobiographical, and the prevailing attitudes at the time, the book was only published posthumously in the 70s

Colette’s Claudine series – it’s long (multi-volume) but sort of a classic – they’re all old enough to be free online, though the English translation is harder to come by 

Eileen Myles – lesbian poet and novelist – I’d recommend Inferno but some of her poetry is free online 

Rita Mae Brown – Rubyfruit Jungle and Oranges Are not the Only Fruit are both quite good, though, especially the latter deals with religiously-motivated homophobia, so I know at least my girlfriend, who dealt with a lot of that from her family, opted not to read it for her own mental health. 

Tony Kushner, Angels in America – this two-part play deals with the AIDS crisis in America – it’s been turned into a TV miniseries, a Broadway play, and a movie, some of which are available online

Really anything by David Sedaris or Augusten Burroughs – both are gay authors who deal a lot with short stories (a ton of memoir/autobiographical stuff) – the former is a bit funnier, but they both have enough sarcasm and dry wit even in dark situations to make them fast reads 

Alan Ginsburg’s poetry 

Walt Whitman’s poetry (though it can be really fucking racist) 

Binyavanga Wainaina, One Day I Will Write About This Place – does deal with issues of sexual abuse as a warning 

Anything by Amber Hollibaugh (she writes a lot about class and butch/femme dynamics – quite a bit of her stuff has been scanned and uploaded online) 

Michelle Tea – was a slam poet; recovering alcoholic; fantastically funny and talented author and delightful human being if you ever get the chance to meet her or go to one of her readings

Randy Shilts, And the Band Played On – more a work of investigative journalism than anything, the work is a stunning indictment of the indifference of the US government during some of the worst years of the AIDS crisis, but it also provides a good bit of gay history 

Terry Galloway Mean Little Deaf Queer – deals with one woman’s experience of losing her hearing and navigating the world and the Deaf and deaf communities as a once-hearing person – she’s sort of acerbic and always funny;

Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex – grapples with intersex identity in a way that’s still far too rare in literature 

Theodore Winthrop, Cecil Dreem – just rediscovered about two years ago, this is one of the few pretty happy gay novels from the nineteenth century! Free online!

Leslie Feinberg, Stone Butch Blues – pretty clear from the title, but deals with a butch character’s struggles with gender identity (takes T to pass for a while, but then gets alienated from the lesbian community; eventually stops taking T, but still struggles with what that means for her) – Feinberg’s wife made it free online for everyone after Feinberg’s death (the book had a limited print run, which made finding copies both hard and expensive) 

Harvey Fierstein, Torch Song Trilogy – trilogy later adapted for film about an effeminate gay man (who also performs as a drag queen) and his life and family   

Oscar Wilde – his novels aren’t explicitly gay, but they often dance around it thematically, at least; his heartbreaking letter, De Profundis, which he wrote to his lover while imprisoned for “gross indecency,” is available online 

Anything by Dorothy Alison 

Audre Lorde, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name - great as a memoir and a cultural history  

There’s so many more but this is so my jam I suspect I’ve already rambled too long

If you’re interested in film, here are a few: 

Paris Is Burning (a film about drag ball culture in NYC) 

Fire – Deepa Mehta (it’s on YouTube in the US) 

Boys Don’t Cry – there is a lot of homophobia and transphobia in the film, so it’s definitely one you’ll want to be in the right mindset to watch (I, for one, have only watched it once) 

But I’m a Cheerleader – over-the-top mockumentary-esque film that satirizes conversion therapy and the Christian “documentaries” that claimed to showcase their successes (RuPaul is in it as well) 

Desert Hearts – one of the earliest films to leave open the possibility of a happy ending for the lesbian couple 

Hedwig and the Angry Itch – deals with gender identity and feelings of not belonging (also a fabulous musical) 

Philadelphia – about one man’s experience of discrimination while dying of AIDS 

There are plenty of lighter films, but I figure these tend to also talk more seriously about some issues as well

I don’t know if anyone but me made it to the end of this post, but there’s also so much fun queer theory out there that I won’t get into here, but I’m always up for giving more recommendations!