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stubbornjerk · 3 years

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Why people keep telling you to block them if you support Pholo (Penumbra Edition)

Or: why jitterbug-juno really deactivated

I love when people categorize this as fandom wank. Really makes you feel like you’re putting the onus on either side of the conversation.

I’m making this post not because I want to stir up spoiled milk, but because I want it out there that this wasn’t a purity culture war.

The TL;DR version of this is that fans of color tried to tell Rab (prev. jitterbug-juno) not to post her Omegaverse (or A/B/O) fic. And instead of taking the L, she posted it on Ao3 and deactivated.

But, if you want context, well, buckle in. CW for mentions of racism and transphobia.

What did jitterbug-juno do?

Before I get into this I do want it out there that I will not be linking Rab’s fic, but I will show you this screenshot of the summary of it.

[ID: It is a screenshot of a fic, “As You Are” by Pholo.

Summary: Peter can hide his scent glands behind cologne; makeup; concealer pads. He can quash his heats with suppressants. He can divert the urge to nest and fawn.

But he can’t feign another gender’s subvocals. He lacks the anatomical capacity. Mag taught him to distract from his silence with fast, flashy words. For longer heists he relies on social convention. Traumatic mutism is uncommon, but remarked upon by enough war vets and soap operas to be widely recognized. Peter’s marks assume he’s been harmed long before they assume he’s a closeted omega. It would take quite the backwater brute to ask why he doesn’t murmur or chuff or growl.

On the 'Blanche there are the usual furtive glances. Juno makes clear to Peter that should he ever want “to talk about what happened,” he’ll be there to listen. The gesture annoys Peter more than comforts him.

‘Nothing happened,’ he wants to scream. ‘There’s nothing to talk about!’

There are 14 comments, 85 kudos, and 11 bookmarks /end]

You decide what you’re doing with that information, but honestly, I’d rather you don’t give it anymore engagement than it deserves.

There was a period earlier this June (yes, even though it’s only the 10th, at time of writing) when Rab was posting snippets of the aforementioned fic on her blog and tagging it appropriately, putting it in the attention of pretty much the entire Penumbra fandom.

What’s Omegaverse or a/b/o and why is everyone so against Rab for it

If you know what Omegaverse is, I don’t have to tell you why it’s controversial. If you don’t know what Omegaverse is, well, Fanlore said it best:

a kink trope wherein some or all people have defined biological roles based on a hierarchical system, with the terms originating from animal behaviour research. There may be werewolf, knotting, or other animalistic elements involved, or the characters may be otherwise purely human.

The term is generally written with slashes (a/b/o). Many fans, particularly ones from Australia and New Zealand, are uncomfortable seeing the term without slashes because it is also an Australian slur for aboriginal people.

I won’t get into the history or the heaps and tons of other discourses (mostly about fictional male pregnancy, homophobia, transphobia, sexual assault, etc.) that go on within that. We’re here specifically on Rab v. Penumbra fans of color and we’re staying there.

Anyone who’s been in Penumbra enough to realize that everyone draws the Junoverse characters in a certain way knows that a) Juno is black, b) Nureyev is Asian, and c) as a fan you have to be aware of what you’re subjecting or saying about either of them because of the political repercussions that come with it.

And despite that, Rab proceeded to write Peter Nureyev, a gender nonconforming gay Asian male character that is widely headcanon’d as trans, into a fic using a kink trope that relies heavily on animal behavior.

Unlike most people new to fandom, Rab is aware of what Omegaverse is and is very much white. She is (and if she isn’t, should be) aware of the racist undertones that writing him in would get.

I couldn’t get a screenshot of what snippets Rab was sending out into the ether, seeing as a majority of my friends would rather not have seen any at all (I have all of the usual tags blocked so I wouldn’t have seen it either way), but needless to say, Rab got attention for it. Both positive and negative.

Anne (@hopeless-eccentric) even posted a satirical fic, in the odds that Rab was just writing this thing to be “the first” to write Omegaverse fic in the Penumbra tags.

But, I’m assuming more than one fan of color came into Rab’s inbox and messaged her about it, but someone I know (who would like to remain anonymous) was gracious enough to take a screenshot before he sent his in and let me use it for this post:

[ID: A message to jitterbug-juno about to be sent by a sender whose name is censored with a black bar. His messages says:

“as someone who is a person of color i think the nature of the fic you are writing right now is extremely racist and attributing animal characteristics to lgbt people of color is not at all appropriate, especially when you are someone who is white. i have to ask you to not publish this fic and to reflect as to why you would want to write this in the first place, these tropes are extremely harmful and”

There are 33 characters left to write into the message. /end]

I can’t speak for whoever else sent asks about the fic she was writing. If anyone was actually not-so-gentle with her, well, minorities don’t really owe it to you to be gentle about what they can tell is bigotry-tinged behavior.

But, the message was clear: this is different from your garden variety, lily white straight male character m/m kink fantasy. This is an actual queer Asian character that a lot of queer Asian people feel attached do. Do not post the fic.

What happened next: the beginning of the end

The next morning, I woke up to most of my friends being frustrated by this post on Rab’s account:

[ID: Dated 5 June, a post by jitterbug-juno:

“Gonna leave the fandom for a while. Wishing you all well.”

The tags say the following: not sure if i’ll be back, thank you so much to everybody who’s read my fics, and who’s sent asks or engaged with my art or any of that, you’re amazing and I’m sending love /end]

That... was not what fans of color wanted, but it was definitely an action they took. Some celebrated, as they were very much wary of Rab for having caused much of the same category of drama in fandoms like Voltron: Legendary Defenders and Warrior Cats. This also meant that she was probably not going to post the fic either.

Some, myself included, were relatively pissed, as they’d wanted even just the measly bit of accountability. An apology or an acknowledgement of having been called out in private and that they’ll take time to consider why. But instead we got Rab leaving in the face of fans of color telling her not to post her Omegaverse fic.

Well. The next day...

[ID: Dated 6 June. A post by jitterbug-juno titled, “Well... that was short-lived”

“I gave the situation a lot of thought yesterday. The reaction to my omegaverse previews made me figure I should leave the fandom. It seemed like the safest option.

But you know what?

Hell.

I don’t want to leave. The fic discusses the tropes of omegaverse and I spoke to several POC on Twitter, and I’m going to post it with plenty of tags so people can avoid it if they wish. I’m not going to be chased out of this space.

Thank you to everyone who sent messages yesterday. I shouldn’t have made that post about leaving. It was really reactionary. I’m okay and I appreciate your support so much.

(bolded on the post) To those who are angry and uncomfortable with me: Please block me. If you’re going to talk about this fic on Tumblr and Twitter– and this may sound odd– PLEASE NAME ME as Jitterbug-juno or Pholo. Don’t vague me. That way people who don’t want to see this discourse can add my name to their block lists.“ /end]

That certainly was short-lived, she wasn’t kidding.

This got a lot of outrage. Again, the fic is up on Ao3 and she has not taken it down. A lot of POC were pissed and I didn’t see a single fan of color actively support what she was doing, at least, not in my friend group. Everyone started making those posts to block them if you liked the fic or Rab’s content in general, in accordance to what Rab wanted.

Perseus (@mraudiodrama) noticed/pointed out that Rab deleted the part where she said she spoke to several POC about releasing her fic, as well as the part where she said she refused to be chased out of the fandom. This was an incredibly pointed detail to edit out, according to some.

[ID: A screenshot of jitterbug-juno's last post taken 11:00PM. Much of it is the same except the following bolded words are removed: "The fic discusses the tropes of omegaverse and I spoke to several POC on Twitter, and I’m going to post it with plenty of tags so people can avoid it if they wish. I’m not going to be chased out of this space." /end]

That same day, Rab deleted her blog. I actually caught this one on tape, believe it or not.

[ID: A screen recording taken at 12:01 PM of someone scrolling down jitterbug-juno's account. The posts and asks about Omegaverse and her post about leaving and coming back are conspicuously absent. /end]

Initially, I thought she deleted all mentions of it. I wanted to see firsthand if the rumors about her deleting portions of it were true. If she added things where she was saying that she wanted to write it because she was autistic and wanted Nureyev to be autistic too, regardless of the numerous QPOC telling her not to do it.

Instead, it turned out, she deleted her blog.

And now, we're here. The fic is still up. Her blog is down. Rab's public Twitter account @nataclinn is quiet about this. Her @cushfuddled Twitter account is on private after her run-in with the Warrior Cats fandom, according to a friend. And her Tumblr @cushfuddled account has nothing but memes.

Again, I didn't make this post to stir up drama. I wasn't even obsessively making this post as a call-out because she isn't in the fandom anymore. I just want it out there that this isn't a purity culture thing that got out of hand in a fandom as niche as Penumbra. This was a case of someone being called out and failing to acknowledge it before running away. And I want all that out of the way before I say:

If you are on Rab's side of this debacle, I, a queer person of color, want nothing to do with you either.

#the penumbra fandom #jitterbug-juno #pholo #racism #white drama #im not tagging this as fandom drama or fandom wank because that erases the fact #that this was legitimate criticism of a white person #the penumbra podcast #junoverse #i put it in a readmore so its not gonna clog up much #but if anyone doesnt want me to tag this w the fandom tags i'll remove it #once again though this is the furthest thing from anti/proship discourse

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

for mermay, 9 indruck nsfw?

Here you go! #9 was folklore, Indrid’s design is based on a blue-ring Octopus, and I borrowed from one of the Discord convos we had about mer Indrid recently.

Content note: there is implied transphobia/misgendering in the reason Duck ends up in the water.

Duck goes to the depths still protesting, hands and ankles bound in rope and dark water closing over his head.

No amount of insisting he was the man he said he was or appealing to logic was enough; a woman aboard, even when he isn’t a woman, is bad luck and must be gotten rid off. So here he is, drowning for the sake of superstition, folklore and nonsense the reason his lungs scream in protest, denied air.

Whoever said drowning was like falling asleep was a damn liar; he’s in agony, reduced to his most basic state of a creature that wants to stay alive and cursed with the knowledge that he won’t. He shuts his eyes, as if that might make it more dreamlike, and circles past him, he feels fingers on his cheek and then, and then....

Then he’s waking up, chest rising and falling with ease. No more than a nightmare, then, he’s still on the ship-

No, wait, his blanket is floating where he kicked it away. He’s alive, he’s in some sort of bedroom, and he’s fucking confused.

Voices float in under the door, a lilting one reaching him first, “...most stubborn set of legs I ever encountered. A kiss is supposed to be enough, yet while his body can survive in our realm, it insists on remaining like itself.”

“Indrid, his majesty is going to be unhappy when he finds out.”

“I am aware, Vincent. And if my brother finds a drowning man, he may rescue him or not as he sees fit. He does not get to dictate my conscious.”

“I mean, I think you did the right thing” A woman’s voice now, “but he’s still pretty angry at you for the whole giving me legs incident.”

“You wanted to see your beloved, and I am almost as fond of Aubrey as I am of you. A charm that allows you to go between worlds is hardly cause for such a fuss.”

“It was the no-voice thing that bothered him.”

A sigh, “Time and again I have reminded him that strong magic comes with a price. In your case it was easily paid, because Aubrey recognized you instantly and kissed you. As if I would send my own niece into a situation where she might be trapped.” The last sentence is muttered, like the speaker knows no one will listen.

“I know that. That’s why you're my favorite uncle.”

“I am your only uncle” the smile is audible, “and I am just glad the two of you will be married soon. Now if you will excuse me, my foresight tells me my guest is awake.”

A door opens and shuts, and a moment later the curtain of kelp at the end of the room parts. Duck’s never believed in mermaids (or mermen), but that’s what swims to him now, human face and torso giving way to eight silvery tentacles dotted with deep blue rings. They’re almost as striking as his face, his features sharp and alien, crowned with silver-white hair.

“Hello” The mer smiles with sharp teeth, “How are you feeling?”

“Uh, not as confused as I could be on account of what I heard, but still tryin to work out why the fuck you saved me at all.”

“Three reasons: for starters, I dislike having corpses floating around the kingdom. I also do not see the point in having the power of foresight if I cannot use it to prevent suffering when possible. And finally I…” The calm smile on his face falters a moment, “I saw the moments that lead to your being thrown into the waves. You were condemned for being something you are not. I, ah, I could not let such an injustice come to pass.” His mask remakes itself, “and so here you are, Duck Newton.”

“And the kiss?” Duck raises his eyebrow.

“Ah, yes. If a mer kisses a dying human, that human will become a mer themselves. Except in your case, you have-”

“-Stubborn legs?”

A light laugh, “And here I thought I would be the one interrupting you. Yes, exactly. I have no idea why. I’m simply glad the magic worked well enough to help you breathe. There is a, ah, an issue however. My visions show that in your current state, you will not be able to survive on land.”

“But you said somethin about a charm to your, uh, niece?”

“That worked because it simply had to take her from mermaid to human; you’re stuck between forms in a way that, were I to apply the same approach to you it would end badly. As in accidentally turn you into a fish badly, at least in most timelines.”

“Huh” Duck worries the inside of his cheek with his tongue, “so I’m stuck here.”

“Indeed. I’m sorry.” Indrid sits on the foot of the bed, tentacles moving this way and that to fidget with the blankets, the bedposts, and the stray shells on the floor, “This has never happened before, and I did not mean to trap you in this way, I only meant to save you, to give you freedom.”

“That’s more than a lot of folks’ve tried to give me lately.” Tentatively, he touches the tentacle tip nearest him. It weaves between his fingers, the pressure from the suckers on the underside oddly pleasant. He rubs his thumb over a blue spot, which draws Indrid’s attention. His face goes pink and he pulls the tentacle back.

“Apologies, they have a mind of their own at times.”

“Don’t bother me. I, uh, I was just tryin to show you I ain’t mad. Feel a little adrift, but that’s a damn sight better then bein’ dead.”

“Adrift--OH, oh I see, you are going to say you do not know what to do now. The answer is heal; even though you are alive, your body and mind suffered before I saved you. You need rest and care, and I promise you shall want for neither. You are my honored guest, Duck Newton. My home is yours. I, ah, I would offer to let you leave the instant you are feeling able, but as you heard there are some issues with you being seen in this state.”

“Used to layin low.” Duck sighs, flopping back on the bed (or trying to, as he floats down onto the mattress instead).

“I gathered. If I had things my way, you would not need to do such things here. Alas, until my brother gets eaten by a shark, we may be dealing with this arrangement for some time” he gestures to the room, bathed in blues and greens as light filters down from the surface and in through the windows. Two tentacles gather the blanket, spreading it back up Duck’s body and smoothing it down.

“Rest now, Duck Newton. In the morning I will have much to show you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Duck wakes up clawing at the water above the bed, heart beating fast enough he fears it might eject itself up his throat.

The nightmares a fewer these last two days, but whenever they want to be done for good is fine by him.

He gathers seaweed green robe Indrid gave him and makes his way out of the bedroom and down the hall. Indrid gave him a bracelet of cowrie shells that’s enchanted to let him walk without floating away. He’s a strong swimmer, but without a tail to aid him he tires quickly against the force of the water.

The merman’s house is huge, an attempt by the king to keep him happy without giving him any useful power. Most rooms are cluttered with etchings and drawings or items salvaged from wrecks or the shoreline. There are spare beds, but after the night where Duck awoke in a panic and could not calm down, where Indrid found him the next morning exhausted and shaking, the mer offered to sleep in the same room with him. Duck pointed out that it was technically Indrid’s bedroom anyway and he could sleep there if he wanted to. The mer dragged a variety of comfy pillows into the corner and declared he would be quite happy there. More than once Duck’s woken up first to see him sprawled out on the cushions, always clinging one against his chest. Duck wonders what would happen if he offered to take it’s place. He suspects he could do so without issue.

He’s no stranger to being admired, though the last time someone eyed him so approvingly he ran off to sea to avoid marrying them. Indrid’s red eyes contain the same desire but none of the entitlement. The merman’s been staring at him since that first day, though it’s only recently that he let’s Duck seem him doing so, after Duck caught his eye and stared right back.

Teasing Indrid is more fun than he expected, because while the mer usually gives as good as he gets, some days he blushes and wiggles his tentacle tips under Ducks attention. Indrid is obviously high status and, in Duck’s view, the most captivating mer in the kingdom; making him go pinker than a virgin at a striptease from a little flirting is gratifying.

His absolute favorite part of his new home, aside from Indrid, are the gardens at the center. Coral glistens and rainbows of fish flit across his path, sea flowers bloom and wave as he passes by. The best place to sit is in a massive clam shell with an excellent view of the grounds and the city beyond. It also happens to be Indrid’s preferred location to draw.

The mer takes one look at him and extends a tentacle, guiding Duck down to nestle close to him. When they’re with arms reach, one hand leaves his drawing to pet Duck’s thigh soothingly. He tilts his head, intending to study the sketch and ask about it, but ends up with his head on Indrid’s shoulder, slipping back into sleep.

“Oh dear.” Indrid murmurs, closing the book as a flurry of voices swim towards them.

“So, the rumors are true; you’ve brought a human into our domain.”

“Good morning to you as well, dear brother.”

The king crosses his arms, glaring at them, “if you cannot provide a decent reason for your having him here, I will make exile him myself. Right now.”

Indrid’s expression and voice remain calm, but one tentacle coils around Duck’s ankle and his hand clings to the loose trousers, “He, ah, he is, ah”

“I thought as much.” The king swims forward.

“Pet!” Indrid grins triumphantly, “he’s my pet. You keep saying you wish I would find a way to occupy my time and stay out of trouble, and here he is.” Indrid pulls Duck into his lap, patting his head with such exaggeration Duck has to stifle a laugh, “I have been so busy with him the last few weeks I’ve had little time for anything else. Isn’t that right, Vincent?”

Their friend nods, “Yes, your highness, the prince has found Du--, uh, the human most diverting.”

The king narrows his eyes, “Very well. The human may stay in that capacity.” With that, he swims from the gardens, trailed by his advisors.

“I gotta start wearing a leash now?” Duck teases, realizing too late that he’d do so in an instant as long as Indrid was holding the other end.

The blue of the rings deepens, “Not at all. Apologies for referring to you as my pet, but the timelines shifted so heavily in the direction of him casting you into the open sea that I panicked.”

“Aw, you lied to the kings face just for me. Must really like me.”

“I do! I, oh dear have I not made that clear?” Indrid gathers Duck’s hands between his own.

“You have, I was just teasin you. I don’t mind playin your spoiled pet to get one over on him, provided you keep spoilin me.”

Indrid’s grin returns, “I’m certain I can manage that.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“I hate it when he calls my bluffs.” Indrid glowers into the jeweled box just delivered to their doorstep. Right before Duck asks what’s wrong, the merman hands him a small piece of parchment.

Prince Indrid,

Included is a gift for your ‘pet,’ as you are apparently in need of it. It would be a shame for him to get lost, after all.

The note ends with the kings seal. Duck looks up as Indrid turns the box his way, revealing a collar studded with abalone shells and a leash woven from dark, sturdy seaweed. So many obscene images flood his mind it takes two tries before he can focus on Indrid’s words.

“...Thought I kept us clear of anyone who would bother to report us. I’m sure there’s a way around it, ruse aside you are my friend and equal and I will not ask you to humiliate yourself. Hmm, oh goodness, we will need to send word to Dani and Barclay that we cannot come to dinner to tonight, that’s not enough time to draw up a solution, though perhaps we can invite them here instead.” His tentacles trawl the ground as he paces the room.

“‘Drid?”

“Yes?” The mer stops, then his eyes widen, “you are serious?”

“Gotta let me offer first.” He replies with fond exasperation, “I fine with wearin it while we’re out. I know how you really feel about me and, uh, it, uh, makes me feel...safe?” It’s right on the border of a lie by omission, but he manages to get it out.

“I see” Indrid swims casually towards him, as if that will distract Duck from the pink creeping up his cheeks, “in that case, may I put this on you, pet?”

“Uh huh.” Duck tilts his chin up, shuts his eyes with a happy sigh as Indrid latches the collar in place. The mer stays chest to chest with him, testing to be certain the collar is comfortable.

“How is that?”

“Woof” Duck deadpans.

Indrid blinks, confused.

“It’s the noise a dog makes.”

Another blink.

“Y’know those things that are like sea lions but on four legs instead of flippers?”

“That’s what those are called. Fascinating.” Indrid loops the leash into place and Duck growls playfully. The mer pats his cheek, fingers lingering on his skin as he purrs, “good boy.”

-------------------------------------------------------

“Are you ready?” Indrid tips to vials of purple powder into a bowl, causing sweet smelling swirls of color to fill the room.

“Yeah. Been ready for years.” Duck stands opposite from him, drumming his fingers nervously on the rim of the bowl.

A week ago, Indrid asked in that blunt way of his if Duck wanted his human form to be different than it was. When he said yes, the mer immediately swam from the table and into the library to pull books from shelves.

“It will take a few days to prepare; I am careful in all my spells but, well...well I suppose when it is you I am inclined to take even more care than usual.”

It’s not the spell that’s making his nerves bubble up his chest; it’s the component of it he has to contribute. A secret, a precious one, because powerful magic will not give something for nothing.

“Whisper it into the foam.” Indrid gestures to the golden bubbles on the surface of the bowl.

Duck keeps it short and sweet. Then blinding light surrounds him, pure white spiked through with pink and blue, and he collapses to the ground, unable to do anything but hold himself as the spell courses through him. When the colors fade and the room returns to view, it’s all he can do to make his legs stand.

“How, ah, how do you feel?” Indrid taps his fingers together nervously, four of his tentacles following suite.

“Like I got trampled by a horse and came out a new man.”

“Oh. Good.” The fidgeting intensifies. Duck can only think of one reason for that.

“‘Drid? Did, uh, did the spell mean you learned the secret?”

“Yes.”

“Does it bother you? What I said, I mean.”

“No.”

A pulse of water, flourish of blue and silver, and Indrid’s lips find his. Arms and tentacles lift and hold him as they spin slowly across the room, the mer moaning when Duck drags his hands up his chest. He keeps kissing him as he speaks, mouth growing needier after every pause, “I, there were only a few timelines where you confessed your feelings for me and I, I wanted them so badly but I swore I would only act on your feelings if you used them in the spell, not simply because I saw futures where you might.” Tentacles slide under his shirt and up his pant-leg, “ohhhh, touching you in visions is nothing compared to feeling you for real.”

“Can feel me as much as you want, darlin. Got some things I wanna get my hands on too.” He tangles his fingers in Indrid’s hair, glides his mouth down to kiss his collarbone and tease a nipple with his tongue.

“Oh my sweet little human, the things I am going to do to yo-”

The doorbell times and Indrid nearly drops him.

“Damn it all, I forgot we were hosting game night.”

“Don’t worry ’Drid,” Duck pinches the base on one tentacle, “I ain’t goin anywhere, we can pick this up another time.”

----------------------------------------------------------

“I call that a success.” Indrid ushers Duck into the house. They’re returning from Aubrey and Dani’s engagement party (Indrid having provided Aubrey with a mer-charm of her own. As much as he loathes the idea, King Woodbridge has had to give the marriage his blessing; Dani is his only heir. If he disowns her, his throne passes to Indrid, a scenario he hates even more than a human/mer wedding.

Duck wore his collar all evening in case one of the king’s toadies got it into their heads to tell on him. It also matches the clothing Indrid bought him exceedingly well, and he’s not ashamed he admired himself while passing the mirror.

Indrid doffs his cloak as Duck closes the bedroom door, “You can remove that now my sweet.”

He leans against the carved driftwood, “And, uh, what if I don’t wanna?”

The mers hand pauses where it’s setting the leash on a table, “then I suggest you come here at once, pet.”

Not for the first time, Duck longs for a tail so he could speed through the water into Indrid’s arms. The mer is impatient as well, gives a wickedly charming grin as the lease whips out on it’s on to connect with the collar so he can yank Duck flush against him.

“Better, but you are still not as I need you.” Keeping the leash wrapped around one hand, the other starts on the buttons of Duck’s shirt. The human tries to help, only for tentacles to trap his wrists together, “thoughtful, pet, but I do so enjoy unwrapping you myself.”

“‘Drid, pleaseplease hurry.”

“Manners, pet” A tentacle thwacks his ass just as two others pull his pants to the ground.

“I said please” Duck laughs as Indrid nibbles his neck.

“Is that sufficient for someone who spoils you as much as I?” Indrid flutters his eyelashes.

Duck bumps their noses together, “Please, ‘Drid, want you to fuck me, you take such good care of me, wanna take care of you right back, I’ll make you feel so good darlin please.”

“Much better”

His remaining clothing falls away. Out of habit, he moves to cover himself, only for his arms and legs to be pulled outwards, leaving him spread-eagle in Indrid’s hold.

“Do not so much as think about hiding this perfect form from me, pet.” In the front folds between his tentacles, Indrid’s dick begins to emerge.

“Someone get off on admirin his handiwork?”

The smile softens, “I am admiring you, sweet one. You have the finest body I have ever laid eyes on; you did when we met, and you do now. I delight in holding it, touching it, these days I delight in seeing your comfort in your own skin.” A predatory glint returns to his eyes, “and of course, I like fucking you in it. In fact, that gives me an idea.”

Tentacles spin Duck in a half circle as Indrid swims to the mirror, meaning the human sees their reflections as the mer purrs in his ear, “I want you to see just how perfect you look on my cock, pet.”

“Jesusfuck, ‘Drid, yes” His own cock is hardening between his legs as small tendrils part and prod his ass; Indrid’s cock resembles a human one until it reaches it’s base, where the tendrils wait to push his partner further open or coax them to climax. They took some getting used to at first, cool and slick as the teased into Duck’s ass. Now he welcomes them, savors the tenderness with which they ready him.

Indrid coos and purrs in his ear, chirping whenever his cock grinds between Duck’s cheeks. The hand not holding the leash caresses his face while the tentacles see to everything else. And he means everything

“Fuck!” One coils around his dick as another rubs gently at his balls. The first time they tried this they were cautious, unsure how human anatomy would respond to the pressure and suckers. In Duck’s case, the answer was “cum so hard and fast it takes them both by surprise.” Indrid had taken one look at the cock with cum still beading at the head and swallowed it to the root, not relenting until Duck came a second time.

“Ohhhnnnyes” The head of Indrid’s cock presses into him, “oh I never tire of how you feel, pet. So warm and welcoming for you, ah” he whispers in Duck’s ear, “master”

“‘Drid you, you keep that up I’m gonna cum any second.”

“Not before I show you something important. Look” Indrid forces his head forward with the collar. His reflection writhes and bounces eagerly on a cock he can’t see but can definitely feel, lips parted in a prolonged moan as Indrid lays claim to every inch of him.

“My perfect, handsome pet, letting me play with him as I see fit.”

“Damn rightAHfuck, I’m close, if you twist like that again I’m gonna-”

“Cum” Indrid orders. Duck obeys, spilling into the water with a groan of thanks. The mer waists no time, traps him in place with his tentacles so can fuck him hard and fast, one hand tugging the collar and the other fisted in his hair, “oh yes, yes pet, just a little more, you can take a little more, you must, because you are my spoiled little treasure and I can cum in you whenever I please.”

“Fuuck” Duck turns his head for a messy kiss as the mer empties into him with a muffled trill.

One by one, the tentacles relax, Duck’s feet gradually meeting the floor as Indrid trails kisses down his spine.

“Goodness, whatever did I do to deserve you, Duck Newton?”

“Save my life?” Duck turns, gathering the mer into a hug.

“I did that because it was the right thing.”

“You’re right. Hmmmm” he peppers Indrid’s face with kisses, “must be because you’re so damn perfect.”

Indrid hums happily as Duck maneuvers them into bed, “I doubt that’s it, but I am too tired to argue.”

Duck lays down beside him, looping his leg over Indrid’s waist as tentacle twines around his ankle. Maybe one day it will cling to his fins instead, but he’s not all that worried about that now. However he ends up, as long as he’s with Indrid, he knows life will be perfect.

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay #mermay fills

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thishazeleyeddemon · 3 years

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Hey. I didn’t know who else to ask this and I’m really just trying to understand. But are trans women not female? Like I got into an argument with someone that claimed trans women while being women are not female. But don’t they identify as female and should therefore be considered female? I mean this with no disrespect at all. I just don’t understand

Alright, so what I think they’re doing is this: separating gender and sex in a really weird way, and using female to refer exclusively to the shape of someone’s body and not their identity. Let me see if I can explain why this is nonsense. First: you can’t know the shape of someone’s body simply based on how they identify. A trans woman could be “female”, by their definition, because she’s medically transitioned or whatever. You simply do not know such things just by looking at someone, or hearing their pronouns or whatever. Second: such logic still relies on an outdated understanding of physical sex - we don’t have a male/female binary. Sex is best understood as a broad spectrum, and such reasonings as they had can be used as a weapon against intersex people as well as trans people - when people can be born and live comfortable lives without basically any sexual characteristic you can think of, treating physical sex as a binary isn’t really a meaningful concept. Third: it’s weird because it acts like the idea of a binary is a neutral thing, all of a sudden, when it really isn’t? It’s like it takes the barest step away from garden-variety transphobia, while not actually challenging those old notions of gender very much at all. We don’t have a binary, and we don’t need one. And also...I don’t really know how to explain this properly, so I’ll use an anecdote. I don’t have dysphoria very often. I almost never feel that out-of-body wrongness that other trans people have to deal with. Some of the only times I do are when people say I have a female body, because, well, I don’t. I have a nonbinary body, because I’m nonbinary. My body is mine, and I am not separate from it in that way, and the shape of it is no one else’s business. Such arguments as the one you found are basically superficially accepting, I think, while still sort of pushing a “cis as default/trans deviation” narrative, I think. The idea is that cis women have the right kind of body, a “female” body that matches them, while trans women have the “wrong” one. And that’s not true. The truth is is that there’s really, with how we understand sex and gender, no way to say that “oh you’re a woman, but you’re male” without being very invalidating and falling into some weird bioessentialism stuff. It’s always going to be “Oh, you IDENTIFY as this, but you’re really...” And that’s just not how the world works. Sex is arbitrary, gender is fake, and saying that people can have bodies that in some way aren’t theirs is really bad for everyone, I think. Does this make sense? Is it intelligible?

#kacievvbbbb #asks #transphobia #transmedicalism #gender talk #it's alright you weren't disrespectful #*hopes this is easily understood*#don't get me wrong I'll take those who say you're x but your body is y over the more violent transphobes #but it is transphobia #bodies are bodies #they're only gendered if you want them to be #does this make sense?#please don't take me as a kind of ambassador for trans people lmao. a lot of this is stuff i haven't articulated before #this may not be wholly nuanced #moth talks

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flying-elliska · 3 years

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so i’ve been trying to get more connected with the French wlw scene online (esp on insta because that’s where i found a lot of active people) and wow maybe i just fell on the wrong ones but like the casual biphobia...yikes... throwback to being a baby bi and feeling so out of place and fake and not feeling like i could take my interrogations anywhere and this whole queer imposter syndrome...

i think it’s compounded in France maybe because the culture is so intolerant of any difference expressing itself in the public space, that any group deviating from straight white male upper/middleclass ‘Universalism’ has to have a very militant political reason to be visible ; and has to struggle extra hard to make that ‘legitimate’ place for itself, and not being suspected of being “communautarist”. so i see a lot of political lesbianism and the importance of developping spaces without men, where men aren’t the focus, etc. which ! i totally get in a culture that is so, so deeply machist, sexist, and which has rooted its all important rationality so firmly in maleness and straightness that anyone else trying to speak appears defacto as illegitimate and suspect. (and the spaces i’ve come across don’t seem to be terfs, which is...not really a thing in France, i think, like there is simply too much garden variety transphobia for any feminists being able to claim that they are ‘oppressed’ by trans people. so i feel it’s different from political lesbianism in anglophone countries. but seeing the term employed so freely is still a bit ...not great)

but! as a bi woman i can really see very quickly the limit of such an approach, because it often leads to discourse about how bi women are traitors/second class queers/less close to the struggle/etc...almost as ‘men by proxy’ ; and like biphobia and the question of bi inclusion is annoying/not as radical and valid etc etc ; and it just...it makes me sad. anyway i probably need to do more research and find other people.

but it always makes me think about how so many bi people are so reluctant to seek community, be open about their identities, don’t feel legitimate/supported by the queer community in general, and the impact of those types of discourse in terms of self acceptance, mental health, etc etc. this is not to say that biphobia’s prime origin is in the queer community. i think as an intra-community issue it’s more the product of trauma and is very different from the biphobia that originates in the heteronormative world.

BUT it makes me even more aware of the importance of intersectionality in my politics and building bridges with people who have other marginalized experiences, even if they are male and/or straight. i’ve come to a place where any politics that is centered on one type of oppression and is blind to all others is really not working for me. (and incidentally i feel like it’s often an excuse for people to ignore the areas of privilege that they DO have)

and i also refuse to go back to this mindspace of feeling less valid as a queer woman, and feeling like i have less of a right to connect to queer history, and how my sexuality is somehow ‘less radical’ because it sometimes includes men.

and yeah it’s very important for lesbians to have a place to talk about a sexuality that doesn’t include men at all, and celebrate it in a world that tends to center everything around men, and i will fight for that. but i also think it’s important to adress the wound created when bisexual women started to be excluded from wlw spaces. as well as having spaces that celebrate and center the experiences of bi people and the deeply radical wonder it can be to love beyond boundaries of gender. and spaces where women who love women can come together without thinking about that sort of stuff, and bi women are actively made to feel welcome without being tacked on as an afterthought. because we have so much in common, and it is good and even vital to be very considerate and tender with each other !

i don’t have a clear point with this except that it’s good to have different spaces for different types of needs ! but that defending the right of those spaces to exist by delegitimizing other needs is. not great. and also that people should have the right to be visibly different without it always having to be about The Struggle TM, because that tends to flatten people’s experience into a political manifesto, and human lives are messier than that.

#wlw #bisexuality #biphobia

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apersnicketylemon · 5 years

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so i have a question, and i'm not sure where else to ask it. is there a difference between truscum and transmeds, or are they basically interchangable ideologies? also, what are tucutes? i see this term mentioned a lot in the discourse, but i don't actually know the specifics of what it means

There are some differences, but they’re both garbage ideologies.

Truscum believe you MUST have dysphoria to be trans and that it is the qualifying factor to transness and that you are ‘faking’ your gender without dysphoria, or ‘trans trending’. Some truscum believe some NB identities exist, but 100% of them will exclude a large swathe of the NB community, even if they believe some NB identities exist. Some truscum do not believe any NB identities. ALL of them are transphobic and NBphobic, and will very happily misgender anyone they decide is not ‘trans enough’. They do not believe it’s a medical condition though.

Transmeds believe transness to be specifically a medical condition, and that’s the only real difference. Some transmeds believe in NB genders, some don’t, all of them believe at least some of them to be ‘fake’ and are highly likely to intentionally misgender people who they deem to be ‘faking’ their genders. All of them are transphobic and nbphobic.

IN BOTH CASES the person is trans. A person who is NOT trans is just a garden variety transphobe, and should be called such. (Some cis people try to call themselves truscum or transmeds. They’re not either. They’re just transphobes. While in the case of truscum and transmeds they are still transphobic, their transphobia is at least partially internalized and needs to be recognized as different in some ways from what a cis persons transphobia is).

Tucutes are what those groups decided to call everyone who doesn’t agree with them. They (truscum and transmeds) were the ones to come up with the term for anyone who respects peoples pronouns and let people be the gender’s they are without accusation. Basically, if you believe peoples pronouns should ALWAYS be respected, and you believe you don’t have the capacity to tell someone else what their experience with their gender is (AKA a respectful person), you’re what they would call a ‘tucute’. It’s meant to be demeaning but I’m not entirely sure how.

Another term you may see is also ‘Trumeds’. This is used when talking about both truscum and trans meds as that is a lot to type out over and over. So, in short: Trumeds basically believe the same things, but truscum do not believe transness is a medical condition, while trans meds do, and tucutes are people who have compassion and respect.

#queerical

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destroyyourbinder · 6 years

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why not go to therapy for gender dysphoria?

I see this question often posited by both trans people and radical feminists, as well as garden-variety homophobes and transphobes. This is a brief attempt at an answer from my perspective. --- 1. The first reason is that trans people aren't stupid. They are right when they say there is no known therapeutic modality that is known to reliably reverse transgender identity or get rid of gender dysphoria. This does not mean that transition is therefore the best means of dealing with gender dysphoria, but it means you cannot currently just go to a psychologist or therapist and "get therapy" to make it go away. I’m tired of dealing with radical feminists or gender critical types who dismissively insist that this is currently a possible option. I am skeptical that you can ethically treat transgender people with the intent to change their personal identity anyway even if some sort of treatment protocol was developed. There may be some way to lessen gender dysphoria in a therapeutic context without major ethical violations, but few therapists are willing to try, and those who will work with people wanting to ease their gender dysphoria without transition often are working blind and therefore are liable to make mistakes that can harm already vulnerable patients. Even barring the political environment around transition right now, I am not sure therapists generally know what to do to help people or even how to conceive of the problems of those who come into their offices framing their issues as "gender dysphoria" but who do not wish to transition or who are postponing the choice to do so. When I discussed my gender dysphoria outside of a transition context with two different therapists previous to desisting from trans identity, one in about 2007 and the other in about 2014 or so, the first one told me I couldn't possibly be transgender because I was waffling on wanting a penis and attempted to get me to work on rejecting femininity by asking me to do CBT practices when I got compliments about my appearance, and the second did not even know how to deal with my gender issues at all, asked me to educate him on trans identity more broadly, and then tried to get me to accept that I was attracted to men because I considered myself bisexual but was not wanting to interact sexually with them. I ceased discussing it in therapy (and considered the times I had attempted to an unacceptable risk) because I sensed it was actually impossible for my feelings to be understood outside a transition-based context and at the time transition was impossible for me. The desisting and detransitioned women I know who are trying to reconcile with their femaleness seem to have had a very mixed bag of luck with therapists; the ones I know with positive interactions with therapists around their gender stuff have had to go through multiple therapists to find a decent one, and I know a few women who avoid therapists entirely now. Even if you go explicitly seeking a therapist for this issue as a full and competent adult with decent boundaries and deep pockets you will often have poor luck. 2. Those people offering means of getting rid of transgender identity or gender dysphoria are generally explicit religious conversion therapists or pediatric doctors using unethically coercive strategies to alter children's gender behavior. These are the last people you want to be in contact with if you have a gender or sexuality problem, and their strategies don't work except insofar as they might shame you into suppressing your feelings and desires. The doctors offering these therapies for children are direct descendants of therapists who used these strategies to prevent adult homosexuality, some of the older ones literally having studied under gay conversion therapists or at clinics offering anti-gay therapies, and I would guess they probably have similar outcomes in that they permanently traumatize kids. You would have to be extremely self-negating to seek these people out or literally under the pressure of authorities, which obviously isn't conducive to developing a way of coping with your body, sexuality, and gender structures that is healthy and promotes your well-being. 3. One of the hallmarks of being trans is wanting to transition, and one of the hallmarks of gender dysphoria in female people is either strongly wanting to be male or literally believing you are in some way male. Trans people do reach for "being trans" as a primary explanation for their thoughts and feelings about gender, even though they may have pervasive doubts and obsess over the question of whether they are "really" trans or their dysphoria is "real". Female trans people in particular often believe that if they aren't trans or don't have gender dysphoria, they must be "making things up" or that their suffering is stupid, only for attention, not as severe as they thought it was, and so on. The obsessing over whether you are "actually trans" or not ends up locking you into your dysphoria deeper than you might have gone otherwise, and means you will hold onto being trans as an explanation and the trans identity far longer than you otherwise might, because your dysphoric mind is telling you that if you aren't trans then you must really have been a stupid girl this whole time. The last thing a dysphoric female person wants to be is a stupid girl, so you will continue holding onto interpreting your experiences as trans or as gender dysphoria because that is part of the dysphoria itself. I don't believe most trans people look to transition as something they wholeheartedly "want" to do (and those that claim to are likely extremely dissociated from the reality of transition and their bodies more generally); most I think recognize to some degree that transition is risky, painful, socially isolating, legally fraught, and a medical nightmare. But the whole problem with having gender dysphoria is that it's self-reinforcing; if you are actively dysphoric, the way your dysphoria works is to propagate itself and that means you will not try a solution that invalidates "dysphoria" or "being trans" as the reason why you feel this way. Although in some sense nobody "wants to be trans", most trans people are relieved in some way or another when they find out transgenderism exists and that transition is possible, and most female trans people actually resist the possibility of therapy to get rid of their self-concept as not-female. I have not met a trans man who actually wanted to stop considering himself a man, although I have obviously seen many trans people want to ease the suffering caused by gender dysphoria and stop being subject to the negative social consequences of being trans or transitioning or being subject to misogyny/homophobia/transphobia. The reason why trans people reach for transition is because it purportedly allows them to maintain their self-identity and also get rid of the suffering caused by their body being incongruent with their self-identity. If you already conceive of yourself as trans or have extensive gender dysphoria it is unlikely you will reach for a solution that will invalidate your own perception of what's gone wrong, a.k.a. you will not go to therapy that will eventually cause you to let go of the idea that you are a man or not-female. The problem is that the self-identity is not separable from gender dysphoria, and interpreting your suffering as the result of the fact that your body is female but "you" are somehow not is a framing driven by the insecurity cycles and obsessions particular to gender dysphoria. You cannot ease dysphoria long-term without being able to recognize and confront that you are female in a value-neutral way. I honestly believe to the extent that transition can work, it works precisely because it allows some trans female people to let go of constant nitpicking at their bodies, it allows them to be among other female people who don't see them as worth less because of their bodies (albeit ones changed through transition) and in an environment where they can freely discuss their experiences together, and it permits some to actually experience being embodied without shame and distance from themselves. This should not sound unfamiliar to most trans people as it's exactly how the positive results of transition are framed. I just disagree that transition is necessary to achieve these results, that transition actually achieves them persistently in most people, and that to whatever extent they are achieved it means that trans people are right about why they happen (that it means you are a man or not-a-woman). 4. I don't think therapy to achieve peace in your body usually works if you are female, whether you are dysphoric or not, and it's because I think the therapeutic relationship and medicine more broadly are a small-scale replication of the authoritarian and misogynistic practices that cause female people to be alienated from their bodies to begin with. I don't think most female people want or need an authority implicitly or explicitly telling them that their bad feelings about their body are wrong when authorities have inculcated these feelings in us to begin with. Most female people don't end up with gender dysphoric feelings specifically, but I don't think it's an inherent sign of mental illness or irrational for trans men or other female trans people to avoid authorities trying to invalidate or reinterpret their experiences with gender, sexuality, and their bodies. Maintaining a core identity (even if it's a male one) that is untouchable by others trying to convince you out of rejecting womanhood, when "accepting womanhood" means a shitton of gross, dirty, and violating things, absolutely makes sense, and I'm never going to try to convince anybody otherwise. Therapy is inherently intended to guide you to "better functioning" and for most therapists, this means decreasing your friction against social reality so you can hold a job, housing, maintain relationships, and so forth. Obviously being able to survive is important, but being able to survive in this world means making some horrible bargains against your well-being (such as devoting forty hours a week to being captive to people who don't share your interests in a place you don't want to be so you can make enough money for shelter and food) and therapists do not usually frame these bargains as having severe costs. They sometimes actually frame you as ill precisely because you recognize the costs of these decisions, and because you fixate on trying to find a way to escape them. So why would you go to a therapist, then, so you can make yourself believe you are a woman again, if that therapist won't acknowledge the costs of everything required for you to psychologically adopt that identity as well as try to adjust as a "proper woman" to others and gives you a pathological label for insisting that the costs are real or too high? If you are a trans person attracted to your same sex, why would you try to go to a therapist to adjust to being a lesbian for example when few therapists even know what healthy adjustment looks like, nonetheless the kinds of terrible bargains you have to make to avoid or deal with homophobia? One of the most isolating and devastating things about having gender dysphoria is that nobody else seemingly sees how awful it is to be female, and the people around you who should be supportive of you (your female family members, friends, peers, coworkers, etc.) are invested in doubling down about how happy they are and how great it is to do things that you find invasive and traumatic, and seem to be in horrific denial of how it could possibly affect you and may even attempt to force you to adopt these practices and attitudes yourself. If therapy is supposed to get rid of these feelings and replace them with the feelings of the women around you, of course you won't go! Of course you won't go to therapy if the therapist herself is one of these women, or is a man who does not seem to get it at all. If "adjusting" and "functioning" means accepting your lot, trying to gaslight yourself into believing your shame about your existence was unwarranted, crazy, or came from nowhere, and fixing your dysphoria means learning to act and speak and think like these other women and to LOVE it, then hell no, most of us will not adjust or function until our feelings are recognized in some way or another. For some of us this means maintaining being trans and pursuing transition, and for others it means politicizing our experience and becoming active feminists and/or radically anti-authoritarian. It’s telling to me that the medical industry is supportive of one rather than the other, because the latter choice is more likely to indict psychology as a practice and transition is capable of being incorporated into medicine. But seeing it that way is a function of my political view on the whole thing.

#writings #dysphoria

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borrowedfeathers · 5 years

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donut rebagel (comments welcome though, esp from mutuals)

Genital/dysphoria talk, gender essentialism and transphobia/transmisogyny under the cut

That last post about how vagina positivity is fraught in an environment when people practicing it in bad faith are at large just brought back a flood of memories for me concerning when my college girlfriend and I went to see The Vagina Monologues in early 2010 — at the time we both thought we were cis and straight and thought we were a “different” but otherwise unremarkable cishet couple (although I did once say “We are the gayest straight couple ever!” during a silly private dance session to “You Spin Me Round (Like A Record),” making us both laugh, which makes me feel equal parts Extreme Cringe and “Um yeah, about that...”) and we thought going to see that kind of show was the Good Progressive thing to do, and we listened attentively and respectfully to the serious stories and laughed appropriately at the more lighthearted ones.

But then when we got back to my dorm room we both started SOBBING and clinging to each other and at the time we had a hard time articulating exactly why — we probably chalked it up then and there to ~being moved by such powerful art~ but in retrospect, and not very long retrospect at that since we both wound up coming out (me as nonbinary, her as a trans woman) to each other by the end of the year, that seeing such a performance had dredged up a profound sense of sorrow and helplessness in our respective selves that we had no idea how to handle. I had just come back from my mental-health-motivated academic leave of nearly a year a few months earlier and she had had a very strong reaction to my absence since we’d only been together for four months when I got put on leave but we’d already gotten extremely close, so we both were already in a rather volatile state before we went to see the play.

For me, seeing all these (afaik) cis women talking about their vaginas in unambiguously positive terms — one gag that still haunts me to this day was one woman claiming the superiority of the clit in masturbation by saying “Who needs a shotgun when you’ve got semi-automatic?” (using violence metaphors in sex, whoopee!) — just made me have a few nervous giggles as it made me wonder if I should feel guilty for the times when I was growing up and felt bottom dysphoria, which I had first felt when I was five but was able to suppress for years at a time since I didn’t need anything else making me feel like a freak, but it kept popping up and yet I still pushed it down because even after I found out about trans guys I knew I didn’t want to be a man and in fact was afraid of it because I thought I’d come to see that as the lesser of two evils, but what the hell else could it mean?? And this, of course, to my unbeknownst-to-myself OCD brain, just made it pop up more and more. And while I can’t speak to E’s reaction at the time and what the content was that upset her so much, based on things she’s told me after the fact I can only imagine that the play awakened a sense of “why can’t that be me?” that she couldn’t put her finger on at the time and due to what she didn’t yet know was internalized transmisogyny she no doubt felt guilty and beat herself up for it (unfortunately, sometimes literally) as a result.

E and I are still close friends and entrust each other with a lot but since we’re not a couple anymore I don’t ask her about such extremely private things as that, but she has talked about her dysphoria to me and while her ways of coping seem to me to have gradually improved over the years, it’s still a very painful, cyclical thing that she consistently has to wrestle with to keep from falling into self-loathing. On my side, while I’ve reassessed my identity from Just Plain Nonbinary to nonbinary butch lesbian — while I did feel differently about my sexuality and relationship to gender at the time than now, a lot of what kept me from that reassessment was just thinking it flat-out wasn’t possible — I still identify as Very Adamantly Not-Cis and still feel strong bouts of dysphoria, less consistently than E does but with me and my cancer there’s an added sense of futility and fatalism in feeling that unless a miracle occurs I can’t actually do anything about it and I’m stuck in this less-than-ideal body for as long as I’m still alive.

So while it wound up going in (largely) opposite directions for us, this sort of thing speaks volumes to me about how being gender-essentialist about genitals in particular can do a lot of harm to young people — we were only 19 at the time — just starting to question their genders. I’m not going to deny that vaginas are belittled a lot of the time, and I certainly don’t think that there should be an outright ban on positivity toward them, but the unfortunate truth is that I don’t know how to appropriately handle such a thing unless TERFism were somehow to magically vanish overnight. I don’t want to throw cis women who have real and painful struggles with that part of their bodies under the bus but I seriously doubt there’s a way for them to be Loud and Proud about vaginas without replicating harmful gender essentialism and doing various degrees of collateral damage to trans/nonbinary, GNC and gender-questioning people, of which there are always more out there than anyone would expect, much less a garden-variety cis person. I know someone’s gotta handle an issue like this but I don’t know who because cis people Don’t Get It and non-cis people are rightfully exhausted and upset by it. It’s just a big goddamn mess. :(

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #inky pawprints

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