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#oh youre good at languages
thechekhov · 2 years
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how good is your japanese? did it take a while to learn? i tried to learn it for ages and the alphabet stumped me before i could get very far
My Japanese is fine, but keep in mind I've lived here for nearly 8 years. I was conversational by the end of my first year, only because... well... I didn't really have a choice?
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I saw Japanese everywhere, and heard it every day. It's hard to ignore input like that. Your brain picks it up whether you like it or not. However, if I didn't have that sort of exposure, I'm sure my learning would be slowed immensely.
It's very difficult to learn a language without some sort of daily reinforcement. Also, learning by being immersed in a language and learning it just from books/apps makes a huge difference.
Along those same lines, there's also the reality of motivating yourself to remember shit that, realistically, you'll rarely use if you don't have a reason to see/hear Japanese constantly.
Sometimes, people are very good at creating their own motivation, and learning from resources and textbooks. But if you're not a super-motivator, it's hard to convince your brain to remember something you won't use daily. That's not really a failure on your part, that's just your brain being efficient.
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quinns-art-box · 6 months
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and an extremely late thing i did for saimatsu week day 7!! tiny little comic the prompt was birthday :] absolutely adore the hc that kaede's bad at cooking but she is trying so hard and that's always good enough. plus they can just do it together <3
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starks-hero · 1 year
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Iris
Pairing: Crowley x human!Reader
Summary: “When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.” Or, Crowley finally decides to tell you, his human lover, that he is a demon. He's justifiably terrified.
Word Count: 2.0k
Warnings: hurt/comfort
a/n: shout out to the wonderful anon that chucked me headfirst back into my good omens' obsession. anyway, I'm not saying you should listen to Iris whilst reading this but–
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Crowley loved your eyes.
Well, he loved the entirety of you. But there was just something about their alluring shade, the way they watched him so intently and with softness he couldn't recall last being regarded with. Their divinity reflected that of the cosmos themselves. Crowley should know, he built them.
He never really understood the whole ‘eyes are the window to the soul’ line before you. From Crowley's, albeit limited understanding, souls didn't have windows, and even if they did, it wouldn't be a very good indicator of one's character. Even the bleakest of days look more promising from behind the safety of a window.
You were the one to change that perception, to take it in gentle hands and mould it into something softer, more sentimental. You proved to him that maybe there was some truth to the verses he'd heard poets recite again and again over the millennia. When with you, Crowley could feel the unconditional kindness beaming from you like rays from the sun, a readiness and willingness to be good that made him fall for humanity all over again.
And yet despite everything your eyes inspired in him, you were yet to see his own. And for good reason. Crowley still didn't understand what miracle, (or lack thereof) had transpired for you to be with him, but he did know that he wasn't about to put it at risk. You were his anti-thesis; made up of all things good and loveable. The thought of how quickly you'd leave the moment you saw his eyes and all they stood for was one that plagued him daily. But on the other side of the coin, Crowley couldn't disregard the fact that you deserved to know. You deserved the truth. You deserved so much more...
It was time for the bell to toll.
And so, Crowley followed his usual routine of picking you up after your shift, only this time the music was cranked up double what it usually would be (already deafening) in an attempt to drown out his frantic overthinking. The windows shuddered with each guitar solo and Crowley was sunk so far down in his seat his foot was pressed uncomfortably against the gas pedal. If it weren't for the fact that the Bentley was somewhat sentient, he probably would have swerved off the road a mile or two back.
The moment he set foot in your home an uncomfortable burning sensation shot up his spine. He cursed whoever had blessed your house before realising that said uncomfortable feeling was in fact a combination of both his nerves as well as the conscious he forgot he had.
The drive back to the flat was tortuous, for Crowley at least. Your hand was on his thigh as he drove, drawing circles into the fabric. The ever-alluring sound of Freddie Mercury's voice droned on in the background as Crowley rehearsed what he wanted to say, swapping out words and rephrasing sentences before restarting altogether. The closer he got to home the more hopeless he began to feel and by the time he was holding the flat door open for you Crowley fought the urge to find the nearest cave, catacomb or other undisturbed dwelling to take a century-long nap in. He just wanted to wait this whole thing out.
The reminder that you wouldn't be here in a century served as an adequate kick in the arse as he closed the door behind him. 
His shoulders were slumped and his steps slow as he moved through the apartment's halls in all their bleakness. The only room in the entirety of the flat that had any real colour was his conservatory, filled to the brim with succulents and tropical plants. The moment he entered said room he was met with the sight of green leaves and an earthy scent heavy in the air. It was an impressive sight, really; plants that stretched feet off the ground, leaves proudly pointed skyward, (although given Crowley’s presence it is far more likely this display was out of fear.) Ivy vines had begun to climb up the walls, something Crowley had intended to deal with before deciding he was rather fond of how they contrasted the greyness of the polished stone they clung too. 
Among it all, in the very centre of the botanical display, the plant you'd gifted him proudly sat. A purple Iris, its petals bright and its leaves healthy and succulent. Its scent was sweeter than that of the other plants and the flower, despite its size, did not seem intimidated by the impressive foliage that surrounded it. 
Crowley’s fingers delicately ghosted over the leaves. the sentimental side of him liked to believe that the flower’s flourishing beauty was because it had been gifted to him by you. Something about everything growing better with love. The more reasonable part of him acknowledged that it was due to the fact the plant had been placed nearest to the window as well as being the first watered each morning and night. The battle between his sentiment and rationality was nullified by the fact that you were also the reason the plant received such treatment, favouritism having quickly steered his hand.
You just had that habit about you; inspiring beauty whether you meant to or not. 
As Crowley studied the flower that in so many ways reminded him of you, he imagined the leaves becoming dry and shrivelled, of the royal purple petals withering beneath his touch. He pulled his hand away.
He found you reclined along the couch, one arm covering your face whilst the other hung weightlessly off the side of the furniture. Your dramatic pose was reminiscent of some tragic renaissance painting and the sight was one that inspired such fondness Crowley didn't even mention how you had your feet up on the fine velvet.
“Tired, love?” He asked instead.
“You have no idea. Today was an utter nightmare.”
Even whilst talking about the most mundane of things your voice was siren-like, resonant with divinity. Crowley could listen to you for hours, for the rest of his life. Until his immortal heart stopped and the earth beneath him turned to ash.
“I feel better now that I'm here with you.”
The words sent a dagger into his side, the following guilt twisting it in place. He moved to join you on the sofa and with a gentle tap to your ankle, he watched you move your feet before taking a seat beside you.
Your eyes were on him, he could feel it. The tension in his body and the seriousness of his expression was not something you were used to. He spoke before you could voice your concern.
“There's something I want–” He swallowed. “Something I need to tell you.”
“Okay.” Your breathy laugh that encompassed the word was an admirable attempt to hide your nerves but Crowley knew you better. “What is it?”
Silence followed.
Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times, no words passing from his lips despite how hard he tried to voice them. There was a building pressure in his temples and he felt like his forked tongue was tied in a knot.
“Crowley.” Your hand travelled across the plane of his thigh and grabbed his own. It was a comforting touch yet he fought the urge to pull away. “What is it? You're scaring me.”
Another twist of the dagger.
“I– I just, it's that...” Crowley made a noise that fell somewhere between a groan and a whine. “I... I'm–” foreswearing words altogether, he reached for his glasses. With shaking hands, he pulled them away. “I'm not... good.”
He couldn't bring himself to look at you, to see the horror and fear in your eyes. “I'm quite the opposite actually.”
He felt your hand leave his own, the skin you'd once touched feeling bare. His chest hurt, his eyes stung and when he finally turned to you your fear and disbelief sent another sharpened blade through his chest.
“What–” The word fell quietly, the beginning of a sentence you'd never finish. Crowley took the liberty of answering regardless.
“Demon, unholy horror, the reason children are afraid of the dark.”
When you said nothing, he continued.
“I wanted to tell you. I should have told you. I never meant for this to go so far. I tried to stop it so many times but then you'd say or do something and I– just never wanted it to end. And I know that's selfish but–” Crowley motioned to his eyes. “That's what I am. Selfish, unforgivable– a bad omen.”
As his words set in you remained unmoving. Your eyes hadn't left his, not since he'd pulled off his glasses and laid everything bare.
“Love...” There was another stretch of silence and Crowley felt like he was drowning; like he was back at Mesopotamia with wind and rain at his back and a wave so large it blended with the sky fast approaching on the horizon. “Please, say something.”
You said nothing.
Rather, you raised your hand against his cheek, thumb timidly tracing beneath his eye, as if to ensure it was real.
Crowley flinched.
“This is what you've been hiding from me? All this time.” You asked. “And here I thought you just really didn't like the sun.”
Crowley blinked a few times, lips falling in a frown. He backed away from your touch.
“Crowley...”
“You've just found out that I'm evil incarnate and you're making jokes.”
“What would you prefer I do?”
“I'm a demon.” Crowley ensured to emphasise the word. “I'd prefer you did what anyone else would do.”
‘Leave.’ This part was silent. ‘For your own sake.’
You didn't waver. Your hand fell back against his shoulder, testing the waters and when he didn't pull away you continued.
“From my understanding, demons are supposed to be cruel, unlovable. So if you're a demon,” your hand ventured to his neck, Crowley's eyes falling shut despite himself as you traced his jaw. “Then no offence love but you're not a very good one.”
Crowley couldn't quite place the feeling that took hold of him at your words, but it left him feeling both hollowed and relieved. His eyes stung again, but this time he was smiling.
“You're being far too conversational about this.” His fingers encircled your wrist, he could feel the steady beat of your pulse beneath his thumb. “This really doesn't bother you..?”
You shook your head. “And even if it did, I'm in too deep now to get hung up on something like that.”
Crowley tried to think rationally but instead, he thought of the beauty of the cosmos, of dark purple petals and perfumed air. Of your eyes and their warmth and this time the idea of a withering flower didn't even cross his mind.
“You're sure about this, falling in love with a demon. Dangerous business, that.”
“I'll take my chances,” you mused. “Besides, being without you is the only real hell I can imagine.”
Crowley chortled, boyish and pure, a noise that certainly should not have come from a demon. "Aziraphale been loaning you his books, has he?"
“No, but I am trying to cheer you up." You gently nudged his side. “Is it working?”
Crowley's reaction told you it was. His eyes in all their vibrant brilliance shone so bright you felt you were staring at the sun. When he reached for his glasses, your hand worked on its own accord to stop him.
“Leave them off, please? I want to see you." Your words were cleansing and for the first time in an eternity, he felt worthy. Worthy of adoration, of love, of you.
Crowley kissed you, and you did not wilt.
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tag list: @bakerstreethound @miraclesoflove @doozywoozy @mywellspringoflife
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tragedykery · 1 year
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getting sad thinking about the dialects I would have known/spoken had it not been for the devaluation of “non-standard” variations of a language
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anakinthetrashking · 3 months
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Having thoughts, TLDR; explaining that Practicing Gratitude is just about learning to notice good things and retraining your brains focus area would be more helpful than simply saying "be grateful!"
I think a lot of the issue people have with being told to try like, gratitude journaling is that when people suggest it they never seem to give a good explanation?? Added to the fact that "self-care" and therapy terminology have been monetized, social media focuses on people's sanitized life highlight reels, and hashtag blessed out-of-touch influencers, and the frankly irritating Pinterest Perfect quotes and journals. I mean. There's just a ton to sort through there.
And like I've tried the gratitude thing!! And I know it's backed up by research!! But when you're in the depths and someone says something about being grateful, it is SO hard not to hear all the echos of "be grateful it's not worse", and the past shame of being cast in the light of "so ungrateful" when you're just having feelings and being upset about something, ya know?
But it finally clicked for me when I stopped using gratefulness language?? Because I also feel like that can be limiting, at least for me. The POINT of the whole exercise is to train your brain to notice good things around you, because obvs ur gonna be in a bad mood if all you notice is the bad!
Obvs it's taken a lot of work in a lot of areas to be at the point where I am, that life feels worth living more than not! But like, the more little good things you notice, the more it feels worth living. But like the gratitude language like I said just doesn't work for me lol
Especially like, the other day driving through the neighborhood I saw a woman going for a run, and she looked like she was struggling but also so determined!! And that was something that made me feel !!!!!! Like life is worth living and trying for!!
She's someone I've never met and may never see again, but seeing her living her life and trying made me want to keep trying too!
So for me trying to put that into a sentence for gratitude, it just takes the joy out I guess haha. "I'm grateful random neighbor was jogging"?? "I'm grateful I saw my neighbor jogging"???? It doesn't quite translate for me. But I could see it and focus on that feeling of fondness for a stranger, and inspiration to keep trying and that not everything is terrible all the time. Consciously focusing on something like that and letting it take up a big part of your day the way something bad might usually can feel really weird at first, but it's so nice once you lean into it??
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Studying biology is so fun. Like, no sarcasm, it’s just fun because Zoology includes anatomy and medicine and now I have to study bones and the nervous system and just the whole human body.
And like…this knowledge is so good for writing whump -.-
Also having a mom who’s a doctor is good for writing whump.
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itspileofgoodthings · 2 years
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good writing, fiction or non-fiction tbh, comes from staring at the world really hard for a long time and then through words trying to reproduce the unseen experience of all that staring.
#writing#Cc: that Flannery O’Connor essay on the nature and aim of fiction#Anyway this post brought to you by what Nina said to me yesterday about my post on Good Friday#she said she didn’t even think ‘oh Maria wrote that’ she just thought ‘yeah that’s true’#like she was like ‘I can’t even give you credit for it because it’s just WHAT IT IS’#(she did give me credit but credit for finding the words not the reality)#and it was just !!!!! something just really CLICKED into place when she said that#writing is about putting unseen realities into words through the very concrete gift of language#as O’Connor quoting Conrad says ‘drawing out an invisible universe by means of a visible one’#because !!!!!!!!!! It’s about communicating not an abstraction but an EXPERIENCE#(Me teaching this article to my students: hey kids what is literature??? them tired but getting it: an EXPERIENCE not an abstraction)!#so writing is the meeting point of a gift with words. Or at least an ease with them#words have to be your MEDIUM. Your chosen means of expression#and actually having experiences from staring at reality long enough#just one or the other isn’t enough! and no by ‘experience’ I don’t mean some arbitrary bucket list of conventional items#as O’Connor says—anyone who has survived childhood has enough experience to last them a lifetime#but I do mean the experience of staring at the world#occasionally in flashes of clarity like this humility makes sense to me#a good writer is simply transcribing all sorts of things that exist outside of herself#and the clearer and more faithfully she does it the more she disappears#AND the more she is revealed#anyway of course writing is not just a literal transcription of reality. It’s about the gift of selection!!!!!!!#in other words: you have to be the right tool and you have to know how to use that tool effectively#And both of those take time but once you do you would see yourself as just a conduit. A translator for reality#anyway I just woke up very early and had some thoughts. these are the things that grow in me lately underneath the reality#of sickness and teaching and tiredness#anyway not saying I have achieved this lol. Though my Good Friday post came close!#I can say that because it was only one line
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angelsdean · 4 months
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Jack: Yeah, he-he wasn't all bad, my dad. Uh, that's what makes our parents loom so large in our heads, I think. They're… a million things to us all at once.
And even after they're long gone, we're stuck with them. Can't help it. They're inside of us. You know, my whole life, I promised myself I'd be nothing like him, but…I ended up just like him.
Kevin: No, Dad. You're way better than him.
Jack: Thank you, my son. And you're gonna be way better than me.
— 5x07, This Is Us
#this is us watch#gonna rb this in a sec to say exactly this but. scenes that could've been dean and jack. scenes that ARE dean and jack. 2 me.#the father son relationships on this show are soo good and rich and they GET the complexity of the dynamic between fathers and sons#and it's the exact same complexity dean has for john. that ability to hold both love and hate for a parent#and neither feeling cancels the other out. they both just. co-exist#and that's what jack (this is us) is getting at here. that your parents can be a million things to you all at once#that you can love them for the good times and hate them for the bad and you'll carry them with you forever#you imagine them to be one way all your life then you grow up and realize oh. they were just a flawed person like anyone else.#or you become a parent and you worry you're becoming like them. and at the same time u realize how hard it is to be a parent#how easy it is to mess up without even trying#and you'll talk to your son about it. and you'll fear you're doing everything wrong#and your son will look at you and say 'no dad. you're way better than him'#and you'll hope that your son turns out to be an even better person#because you just want the best for your kids.#and just. this is a scene dean and jack could've had. another time they go fishing and john comes up#and dean tells him how bad it was sometimes. but how it wasn't all bad. because it wasn't.#and he'll worry he isn't doing things right with jack. and jack will look at him like he's his hero#because he is. because jack loves dean so much. loves the quality time they spend together. it's their love language#and he'll tell him 'no you're way better than your dad'#and dean will do the ol' face pat. like he's done before. like bobby used to do with him. and draw him in for a hug#anyways. i feel fine abt it.#fathers and sons !!!!!!!!!!!!
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cherrystonefemme · 6 months
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My favorite moments from my lesbian™️ professional life:
1- That time I got to tell a nun that until she was ready to behave more maturely we would not be having a conversation
2- The terrified look on my well-meaning boss's face when I said "Are you aware that one of the signs in the front hall has the word faggot?"
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kindaorangey · 1 year
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my grace monroe post for the day: i think grace was probably taught several languages as a child BUT given that she got on the train so young her only means of retaining those languages would be by teaching them and speaking them around simon and the other apex kids--
--which i think she would do, because she loves being the centre of attention and having people see her as smart--
--but because she was a kid at the time, and she had no outside reference, the version of the languages that she spoke probably slowly got further and further away from how they are in reality. so basically there are a group of 30-ish kids in the infinity train-verse who speak a completely unique child-brain-remembered version of like french, spanish and russian or some shit.
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citrongarde · 1 year
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klaraposting (and yancy)
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ganymedesclock · 2 years
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I think there's a tricky place we can fall into with discourse about prejudice where the pattern goes,
"sometimes people will be angry! Demanding minorities to be sanitized and peaceful and pleasant to groups that have hurt them and in the face of behaviors that continue to hurt them is unfair!"
Which is a good thought!
But then it becomes, "it is always ethical to bully people who are More Privileged Than You!"
At which point there are three problems,
Problem one is that bully mentalities are not good, not in a moral sense as much as a practical one. Even incidents we do celebrate, like that one time a neonazi spokesperson got punched, we don't celebrate because it's a bullying action. It was a targeted act of deplatforming. That guy wasn't embarrassed because we wanted to snap his underwear and send him home crying. The punch was a means to take the platform away from a dangerous person who was using it to spread hate speech. The goal is to stop the harm. The goal is to stop the harm.
The goal is not to be a bully, because being a bully feels good and fun and cathartic and the more you encourage that impulse the more you will actively want to find people to bully, because it feels good, and being left alone with your feelings doesn't feel so good. So the categories broaden. As a means to vent anger it fails, because it makes you angrier, because you want to be angrier, because if you have more justifications there are more people to hurt. An endless buffet of people to hurt! You're better than ALL of them! (Not good for you, not good for praxis, not good to be around)
Problem two is that every human being on the planet is complicated and Privilege is a thing we can identify much more easily in vague abstract than we can in practice. Trying to split hairs and divide everything down to the finest degree to rule who outranks who on the great objective scale of privilege, creates a model where people are incentivized to strip themselves down to victim status for credibility. And most of the categories are extremely broad and affect people to very different degrees. Is my disability "disabled enough" for people? Or because I don't have physical disabilities and I'm not nonverbal, should I shut up forever, regardless of what I'm saying? Are strangers on the internet entitled to my medical history?
At that point it's basically just repeating ableism- you're only credible if you're suffering SO much you can't live without help and then we should all pity you and see you as such a victim. And that's just one example. There's a lot of ways this can go wrong.
Problem three- and the thing that inspired me to make this post- is that if you establish a narrative where the closer to a cis, white, straight, perisex, allosexual, able-bodied, english-speaking christian man in America someone is, the worse a person they inherently are, which gives ownership to all these qualities to the worst people.
I feel like I often see jokes or discussions of characters where male characters are ascribed 'stupidity' as a trait when the thing that the audience is clearly actually reacting to is that he's. nice. trustworthy. patient. And I feel like that's kind of unfair, isn't it? Are we implying any sufficiently smart man would hurt and maltreat others? That the best thing he can be is stupid? As a transmasc person myself, I don't really like the idea that if I reached a point in my transition where people saw me as a man more than anything else, they'd be afraid of me and have to decide if they think I'm too stupid to hurt them.
Men don't inherently suck, cis-heteronormativity creates a shitty box to put men in and this experience hurts them. If the hypothetical Perfectly Normative Man I listed above is the winner of the 'game' that prejudice creates (again, in America, not necessarily in every country) he wins a really bad prize. The primary nexus of misogyny, of racism, homophobia, transphobia, acephobia, ableism, prejudice against intersex people and non-christian religions and secular beliefs are directed off him, but he is made a soldier for these causes because he is never that far off the crosshairs. A cis straight man is often culturally socialized to be terrified of queerness because there is always the warning he could fail to measure up, and become rejected like those Others. Virtually always, in some way, he is already Other himself, even if he hits all the 'correct' categories he may not hit them in a way that power approves of.
This is a system that perpetuates itself through suffering, and the worst possible men, cis people, straight people, so on and so forth do not deserve to be given the right and privilege to speak for the category.
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girlcalledwhatsername · 9 months
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Kinda really don't have patience for people who spread ao3 hate thinking it gives them some moral highground or makes them more "mature" somehow, so much of it is literally just cynicism and needless hostility for people under the garb of some flimsy activist excuse to feel a sense of superiority. And it's never just ao3 either, you check their blog and it's all making fun of people for harmless shit and signs of neurodivergence in the most hateful ways, slurs and all. Schoolyard bullying-core 👌🏼
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icannotgetoverbirds · 10 months
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saw an exclusionist post so here's a reminder
specifically in reference to transmasc lesbians and trying to draw lines in the sand on who can and can't claim the lesbian label, about how being a lesbian is exclusive of loving men, with someone referring to the people they're attempting to exclude as "fandom gremlin transmascs and neo-mogai crazies."
I don't have the spoons for a proper response but i do feel like i need to make something clear.
on this blog we support fucky genders, fandom gremlin transmascs, and neo-mogai crazies. reblog if u love ur fellow fandom gremlin and neo-mogai crazy queers.
#tw ableist language#tw exclusionism#byrd chirps#oh and if you have a problem with this then feel free to sound off in the notes so i can block you#there's a fucking trans genocide happening right now i will NOT tolerate exclusionary politics around good-faith identities#also why the fuck do the labels matter? we're all a bunch of filthy queer degenerates to the people that want us dead anyways!#if you police good faith identities you're a fucking fed and functionally conservative#and yeah if we wanna work together on something basic and/or general i can play nice with you#but there's no way in hell that i'm just gonna allow y'all into our spaces just so you can try and push me out!#if you're a lesbian and you don't want to date enby/genderqueer/multigender folk that's fine!#nobody is saying in good faith that you have to date us! do you realize who you sound like right now?#gee i wonder who else argues for pushing nonconforming people out of their spaces because they think we're predatory -#- and expect them to date us? i fucking wonder!#if you can't handle gender fuckery then don't make it my fucking problem! i'm not out here making it yours!#and no me existing and sharing labels with you is not 'making it your problem'#look you have the general lesbian space. we have the subset of genderqueer/transmasc lesbian space.#you cannot claim to be supportive of enben (including nb lesbians) if that support doesn't extend to genderqueer/multigender folks!#anyways rant over im not here to fucking argue about my right to self determination#that is specifically what i came to tumblr to AVOID.#not gonna link op because i don't wanna put them on blast just.#op if ur reading this. skedaddle. to the person i was following that put it on my dash. skedaddle.#to the person who they reblogged it from. skedaddle.#out. now. i am sweeping you off my front porch with a broom. you are not welcome on this blog#oh and the person who i'm quoting from the notes? that goes double for you. out.#inclusivity#intersectionality
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azol-otl · 1 year
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Random Jason Hijinks I either wish would happen someday or find amusing to think about.
Rose and Jason break Eddie out of hell and steal his soul back from Neron. Jaime is dragged along by Rose because he and Eddie were “friends a few reboots ago”. Jason asked Roy who sent him Connor who is suffering™.
Pre-Red Hood Jason and Pre-Green Arrow Connor first meet up back when Jason was part of the All-Caste hunting a demon. It’s a one-shot adventure and the things you have to know are:  
a) this is before Jason’s growth spurt so he’s over a head shorter than Connor.
b) Connor isn’t a cape so excuse him for not understanding demons and fucking up hilariously a few times.
c) When Jason tries to kill the demon who is possessing the human, he and Connor fight about it. The fight ends when the demon explodes out of the person like the Pus of Man from Dark Souls 3.
d) Talia is the one who finds and picks up Jason from the adventure (Connor thinks she’s his mom and Jason just didn’t inherit the melanin) and is also the one who gives Connor contact information for Jason because she wants him to have some sort of friend.
e) They never actually learned the other’s name so anytime they’d hear about Red Hood or Green Arrow they literally don’t know it’s that guy they met as teenagers.
Jason decides to actually dust off his mystic training when Dick walks in and Jason gets hit with so many bad vibes he’s genuinely worried something is wrong with Dick.  
Jason: “Did they not fix the Brother Blood mind control thing fully? Did Raven miss something? Isn’t Dick friends with a million people? How have they all missed this????”
It ends with bringing Danny Chase back to life and the only person remotely happy about it is Jason and even that’s a stretch.
Rose, why are you part of the Wild Hunt?!!!
What do you mean Biz got taken by the fae?!
Roy, why is this werewolf saying he’s your husband?!
Eddie, why didn’t you tell me you were a prince of hell? What do you mean that one of Trigon’s sons is buried in Gotham?!!! No wait, you still haven’t told me how you’re a prince of hell!
Jason and Talia's road trip where Jason comes to the uncomfortable realization that he views Talia as a mother/aunt figure.
Bonus Artemis suffering Jason’s Mom Has it Going On.
Jason gets a new dog named Ellie and he loves her and Dog very much. What do you mean she’s a Blue Lantern!?
Ellie is short for Elpis and she’s absolutely Hope Corgi.
Roy finds out that he has a whole-ass checking account under one of his aliases that he never knew about. Turns out Jason created it for him years ago and Roy’s actually under W.E.  employed as an independent contractor and he’s been making 6 figures for years because Jason never bothered telling anyone that he still owns Wayne R&D.
Jason slowly but surely claims Park Row and the surrounding areas as his territory. It has the unforeseen consequence of magical folk moving into the neighborhood because Gotham is a nightmare to live in normally, Magic Gotham is even worse and the only people who can survive are big hitters like Blood, Zatanna, and Ivy or small fries like the kitchen witch near Leslie’s. Welcome to the big leagues, Jason.
Jason keeps getting mistaken for Jason Blood and it is annoying. One day some demon hunters threw something at Jason and did anyone know Jason used to be in heaven because he sure didn’t and these angel wings are a fucking nightmare.
Rose busts a gut laughing because she somehow became friends with the least demon-y demon Eddie and Jason as an angel.
Jason, Ivy, Sideways, and Impulse (Impulse voice: “Why am I even here?”) vs the Madness Wavelength in Arkham.
Jason kills Joker and finds out that he cannot. Not as in “He doesn’t die” or “There will be a new one” but a secret third option, “The universe literally resets the day every time he’s killed.” Instead of being a tragedy, it becomes a comedy as killing Joker slowly becomes Jason’s go-to when shit goes wrong/killing him is good stress relief. Stephanie discovers what happens because she’s had to write the same essay nine times once. Instead of being horrified they (and then Helena, Tim, Duke, etc.) make killing Joker a gag. The only ones not allowed to kill the Joker are Dick and Bruce because then the universe decides it’s the bad timeline instead of just resetting again.
Tim: *drops his latte on a hot guy and then embarrasses himself in public trying to apologize and becomes a meme.*
Tim: I guess I have to kill Joker now.
Jason and Kory remeeting and wow it’s really awkward that we only got close because of a universe meddler and then you dipped and never contacted me again even though I was a hundred percent serious that you were one of my first friends and are very important to me.
Oh no. Not the talking. Not communication! Kory take mercy on me and just drop me like a bad memory don’t have us open a dialogue where we reconcile all of the bullshit that happened to us and the fact that we did genuinely get close at very low points in our lives and be willing to try and be friends again!
Give! Kory! All! The! Friends! She doesn’t care if you think it’s a bad idea, it's her life!
Gotham Vigilante Tabletop Club (GVTC) featuring Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Duke, Helena, and Harper. They each get a turn as dm and every one of them brings in a different game.
Why is Damian’s friend (Colin) asking me for love advice? I’m a gay disaster ask anyone else please. ??? I guess I can try to help??? Who’s your crush?
It’s Lian and Jason regrets agreeing to help because Roy is going to murder him.
Countdown 2 Electric Boogaloo. Except for this time they were all shoved into the dimension separately and by separate events and there is no danger. It is just a multiversal road trip with the people who vexed you greatly but are slightly grown up now.
Bonus scene includes Jason’s gleeful face when he realizes he understands what all of those words Donna keeps muttering under her breath mean because Artemis was a bro and taught him Themysciran Greek.
#I didn't mean for all of them to sound like comedies but sometimes that just happens#People may hate on the all-caste for not being Jason enough or whatever#But have we ever stopped to think that Damian is related to an immortal cult and Duke is the son of an eldritch being#And Dick is related to an unrelated cult and just all the weird shit that happens in Gotham anyways?#Why can all these exist and Jason not also have mystic monk training he never uses#Listen I don't know much about Gotham's magic population but I'm pretty sure the place is awful to live in with the nine different curses#So having a dude that's basically a mage-killer claim a territory can only be a good thing for their safety#Plus I'm positive that magic folk would keep property values low because who would go looking for magic users in Park Row#Everyone was written terribly for rhato but Jason and Kory had the potential to be a really interesting relationship#Just this lack of judgement and ability to not have to shave down all of your sharp edges for one another#also I do really like the idea of them trying romance or sex and then deciding that they need friends more and then staying friends#Gotham Vigilante Tabletop Club my beloved#Look Duke and Tim canonically play tabletop games and if dc would finally acknowledge that Stephanie and Jason are nerds they would too#I miss Colin and the idea of him and Jason being disaster siblings or disaster guardian-child is important to me#I don't know if it's canon but considering linguistic drift Themyscira should either have its own language or dialect#and Donna should use it to say mean things under her breath#Jason Todd#I am not tagging anyone else their tags deserve to be Bat-Free#oh boy do I love how I can't make indents in even in html. Sorry for the eyesore whoever reads this mess
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I'll change the spelling of your name to something elaborately absurd and stupid
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