#read: i wish i was this androgynous in real life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lambdearest · 1 month

Note

detrans kink?

Hi! I actually have an interesting response to this! I discuss my dissociative disorder and my fluid experience of gender identity! But the short answer if you want to avoid the read more is NO, however I do like being dressed up and wearing whatever cat ears or fem stuff my dom wants.

I’m person with an extreme dissociative disorder. Dissociative Identity disorder.

This actually makes me feel like I am a separate identity from my usual more dominant personality in day to day life. The colloquial terminology is to call these senses of self a system or a group of alters.

But to put it lightly I am a ftm nonbinary queer trans man in daily life. I use he him and they them pronouns irl

but this blog is all pronouns for the following reasons

I have some alters who do not experience bodily dysphoria and even prefer feminine presentation and consider themselves on the spectrum of nonbinary feminine or androgynous women. These for me are a few of my sexual alters

I am much more comfortable having transitioned and will continue to do so, I love being a man and existing in my body feeling strong and hearing my deeper voice sing along to music etc

Even if I repost something where it talks about faggy queer boys dressed up in “girl” clothes etc, ultimately I am a gender queer person who is fluid in their experience of gender and ultimately does not get off on the experience of “detransitioning” (most detrans real world scenarios only really happen for social or financial protection/necessity) personally the idea of anyone trying to control the “who” of me makes me feel rather violent towards that imaginary person. I am me, myself is 100 in stone.

In other words I am not into detrans kink but I am a gay queer hyper sexual who gets off on the extreme examples of submissive behavior and if that includes being called princess or wearing pink for either my dom or otherwise. Than so be it. I would just as quickly be put into a latex gimp suit (another thing I’m not particularly fond of) if my Dom so wished it. I do get off on the control and power dynamic extremes and rarely would be able to experience “gender” as a kink scenario because my brain might “switch” and make me feel a more comfortable alter to suit the kink situation I’d be in.

I’m not solely a submissive either but this blog is a healthy way for me to cope with the ptsd I have in a safe controlled environment with my trusted partner. I have no judgement whatsoever if you yourself participate in detrans kink because ultimately you should be more comfortable in your own sense of self than to seek out potential self harm. If detrans kink makes you uncomfortable then simply avoid it.

So no Detrans is Not something I seek out.

“I feel feminine and like I am woman at this moment” is a much more likely explanation to some of the things I post

“I am being /forced/ to do this by someone else” (regardless if I like it….)

I also participate in consensual n0n c0n but this is purely pre planned and unrelated to my experience of gender and way more tied to primal kinks of being bred like a feral omega in heat, a great way to cope with hyper sexuality and be able to express that. Also OG alpha/beta/omega readers with like male pregnancy, slick, and scent marking etc, etc just for me as a queer person was just very queer ftm masculine sexuality while being very comfortable in the body I was born with.

I’m a masculine sexy person, extremely fuckable regardless of how another would like to label me, my brain adapts fluidly and I use all pronouns and queer identities rule

I am usually a fem presenting person if I’m blogging here, This is Lamb 🐑 this blog is how I cope with hyper sexual feelings and it makes me feel safer with my partner who knows that the extremes of online posts or whatever don’t correlate 100 percent to actual desires or interests. Real world is much more diluted and chill

I have another blog for my more masculine alters to be Dom ftm gay wolf weirdos which I can link if anyone wants that sort of thing…..

Sorry if this was really long! But I liked answering this even if it wasn’t what you wanted from your ask :)

3 notes · View notes

nothingmatters-everythingmatters · 3 days

Text

on a blogging roll so here's a quick little pinned intro

hello! I go by myo (funny pseudonym not my real name lmao) welcome to me straight up rambling in very overdrawn personal writings filled with far too many prepositions (look, I'm just not a grammar person, I write purely off vibes and stream of consciousness with light editing)

I made this blog mostly because I had a nagging desire to 1) talk about myself in order to excise lingering young adult narcissism 2) rant about things that annoyed me in life because if I did this to people I knew irl they might stop talking to me 3) explore and contribute to communities of ideas that I haven't directly engaged with but would like to. specifically radical feminist and gender critical spaces that I stumbled upon while dealing with a conundrum over gender identity, and have really made me consider a lot I haven't before.

speaking of identity, a topic I love so much and definitely don't side eye with the strongest of expressions my face can make, I will list some random aspects of myself that will come up in writing because turns out a lot of my self reflection centers around a few specific topics, keep reading if getting to know an internet stranger slightly better for no reason is up your alley

I am chinese american, not a fact I usually talk about a lot but it sure is culturally what I am! and it does inform my upbringing and family dynamics which unsurprisingly are very interesting to unpack while relentlessly blogposting

I am technically a desister(?) from identifying as transmasc non-binary/ftm, I did not begin to pursue medical treatment (due to overwhelming health anxiety lmao) but sort of socially transitioned (I go to college which is liberal !!! pronounds everywhere so scary ahhhh !!!) with a name change, effort at passing, and sometimes using male bathrooms. I was very close to deciding to start testosterone and very strongly wanted top surgery due to dysphoria, but the aforementioned lurking in radfem spaces did give me some clarity, and the also aforementioned health anxiety really made me wary of the downsides. still very much gnc presenting, I like dressing "androgynous/masculine" but I'm getting better at accepting my natural state as a woman

I identified as asexual for the better part of half a year after internet research and some recommendations from a therapist, and now realize... I am probably not asexual because shockingly I am attracted to women and only women wow. in deeper reflection I realize that a lot of what I attributed to asexuality was in fact a lack of attraction to men :O

I really hate consumerism like quite a lot and am trying to live my life from an anti-consumerist angle and a more sustainable way which is fun since I have been involved in online spaces and hobbies which are in fact very consumerist, and realizing that now I can see a lot of aspects of those spaces and hobbies which should be taken more critically but alas. consumer culture truly runs strong in the states.

related to that I also loathe tiktok and short form social media... although recently I have realized that a lot of the long ass video essays I used to cherish in the past are... not actually that much better. I wish there was more critique about video essays in general but it seems that they are very popular so I'm not holding my breath

(okay that was neither a few or really actually all that specific but sometimes I guess that is how it goes)

I don't have dnis it's a case by case thing. if I don't like someone interacting with my stuff I will simply just express that with blocking or something but I don't believe in generalizing people just by what they label themselves as on tumblr dot com.

alrighty I think that's all, I hope you enjoy reading a bunch more words written like this because that is in fact all that this is!

#oh and would love to have mutuals!#specifically radfem leaning since I guess I'm mostly engaging with that space anyway and that is primarily my topic of interest right now #but hey anyone who's cool I will absolutely mutually backread your tumblr posts

3 notes · View notes

dwarfsized · 5 months

Text

10 characters/10 fandoms/10 tags

the always amazing @aevallare tagged me <3 sooooo:

Astarion Ancunin (Baldur's Gate 3) - getting the obvious one out of the way early. you put a character in front of me who gets mad at you for being good and kind because no one has ever been that to him, who is a bitch and that's a feature not a bug, and im not supposed to become deeply obsessed with that? he is everything. to me.

Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb) - tamsyn muir WHEN will my wife come back from the war? Devotion even when you hate it. Being a weapon in more ways than even you are aware of. Love when you don't know what love is, really, getting it wrong and right at the same time. Gideon @ Harrow is just "its rotten work. especially to me especially if its you. i'll fucking do it but christ alive."

Murderbot (The Murderbot Diaries) - i think i am one of the only people who thinks that Murderbot is on the fem-presenting side of androgynous but i do think that and i'm right. I haven't read the latest book yet. Being forced to interrogate an in-between space, Murderbot's "dont look at me" in combination with vulnerability, the desire to cut and run and figure yourself out and then, like. not actually figuring yourself out much. did the running help? did escaping do anything? or should you have stayed?

Stede Bonnet (Our Flag Means Death) - Cringefail fuck-up pirate my beloved, i hate watching him do things it's like looking in a mirror. Theater kid playing dress up, steeped in self-doubt and trying to get everyone to talk about their feelings. In season one he looks at his own life and says "is anyone going to ruin this?" and doesn't wait for an answer. I want to kiss him in the moonlight. Every time I think about him I want to throw up. <3

Keyleth (Critical Role) - The weight of the world on her shoulders because she's been raised to lead her people, and all that simmering rage she tries to keep under wraps, and then she only gets a tiny bit of time with the person she loves before she has to live for years and years and years and watch everyone she cares about leave her. Archdruids with timeless body are an existential nightmare.

Alex Louis Armstrong (Fullmetal Alchemist) - okay listen. when i rewatched fmab in college, I was fully ready to fall in love with Riza. I was very surprised when I realized that it was not the badass with the gun I was fixated on, but the. big muscle-y guy who cries a lot and gets used for comic relief 60% of the time. but. im here. i love him. the ishval flashbacks got to me.

Blue (This is How You Lose the Time War) - Loving someone enough you're willing to let them close enough to kill you. The inherent rot beneath blooming things. Taking the slow path. Not leaving well enough alone. Love, but with teeth. I'm so normal about her (lying)

Cora Sabino (Noumena Series) - I wish I could tell everyone to read Axiom's End because I loved it, but I cant because the sequel fucked me up so bad. Its good! but god the atmosphere is so oppressive and Cora's struggle with depression is extremely real for an alternate history story that asks the question "what if we found out aliens were real during the bush administration?" I was legitimately unwell.

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) - I just think he's the funniest guy with a laser sword. so repressed. had one of the most grey-jedi masters to ever do the damn thing. bitchy. the chosen one is his padawan. honestly he had to know anakin was sneaking out to canoodle with padme and just decided it wasn't his problem. calls himself fucking ben on the hell sand planet. why was he like that.

Spock (Star Trek) - this is the most "i just think he's neat" of all of them. i inherited this blorbo. this blorbo was handed down to me from my mom. he was hers first, im just picking up the torch. "guy who acts like he has no emotions but every seven years enters a fuck or die frenzy" im sorry but that's. that's too good. i have no choice but to rotate him in my mind.

I cannot tag 10 people but i will tag @asterordinary and @werewolfnobody and if anyone else wants to do it go for it! tag me so i can read your response!

#this was so difficult but it was fun!#tag game

3 notes · View notes

coffeedrgn87 · 2 years

Text

Fighting To Be Seen 👀

TW: gender, dysphoria, mental health (brief mention of anxiety and depression)

The last couple of months have been anything but a rollercoaster of joy. Not that I believe a rollercoaster could ever be joyful, but that is a) my personal opinion (deeply rooted in my fear of said contraptions) and b) I digress.

As it turns out, and sadly I've had the "delight" to experience this first hand, too many places aren't ready for non-binary folks.

My personal fight for recognition started when I first chose to step out of the closet about identifying as non-binary. It was a scary time, but I also felt like coming out allowed me properly acknowledge my true self, something I hadn't done in a very long time.

After that first step out into the open, I boldly and proudly changed my pronouns to she/they absolutely everywhere. Sadly, I quickly realised that it made next to no difference. Yes, all these places wanted to know my pronouns but apart from a supportive handful of people (most I'd met through fandom), nobody cared...or made any effort to speak to me about my choice of pronouns / use them interchangeably. It seemed like by coming out (yet again), I'd condemned myself to a life of misperception and having to grind my teeth while others blatantly ignored what was right in front of their eyes.

While I wasn't directly targeted with hateful rhetoric, the constant misgendering weight on me heavily. What hurt the most was the incessant use of gendered terminology: girls, ladies, etc., the list is practically endless. Each time I heard or read those words, I felt excluded from whatever group I was in.

The feeling is hard to describe, but for me personally, it felt like a sharp stab directly into my heart, directly followed by somebody throwing a bucket of ice over my head. It hurt. So much. Despite my medication, my anxiety rose to levels I'd not experienced before - at least not for such prolonged a period of time. In addition to that, I had other major real life worries that made me feel like my favourite rug was being dragged from under my feet regardless of how much I clawed at it to stop it from slipping away.

I sought solace in fandom. I dropped the she/her pronouns entirely, thinking people would pay more attention to seeing they/them pronouns -- I was sorely mistaken. Yes, people in fandom went above and beyond to honour my wishes, to make me feel seen, but the rest of the world didn't seem to care, still doesn't. I changed my clothes, adding a binder (my pride and joy!) and wearing more androgynous clothing. My hair had been short for a good while, and I liked it that way, but I went shorter still. I tried so hard to create a person of indeterminate sex, which is how I see myself. I even found a gender-neutral name I fell in love with and adopted wholeheartedly.

None of that mattered. Not even to my family, especially not to my family, but that's another story.

People still look at me and see someone they presume to be female. They see feminine features and hear a feminine voice and their decision is made. I must be a woman. Well, I am not. I don't feel like one. Sure, I have moments where I feel more feminine, but I mostly keep those moments to myself. Mainly for fear of being judged and experiencing yet more misgendering, but also because those feelings belong to me and nobody else.

So, over the past six months I've done nothing but fight to have my chosen name recognised. I've spoken to more LGBTQIA+ NGOs/charities than I've done in my entire life, I've changed therapists and can now proudly say that I'm in the healing hands of a person who sees me as me, a person without a specific gender attached to them.

You'd think that all that energy I pour into fighting to be seen would lead to change, but I mostly just feel like I'm yelling into a soundproofed bottomless pit. I've found myself standing in front of the mirror, wondering whether it's all worth it and it hurts that in 2022 we still live in a world where this is a question trans/non-binary and gender-diverse people have to ask themselves. It's also shocking. I've always been on the road less travelled, but the past couple of months have been a steady stream of my anxiety feeding into my depression and taking away every ounce of energy.

There've been too many times where I couldn't get off the sofa, looked at the dishes and saw nothing but Mt Everest despite there only being two plates and a mug to clean, stood in front of the door to my flat and couldn't convince myself to set a foot outside, and cried bitter tears. I've been angry for months, all because everywhere I turn I've got to ask to be seen.

Some random real life examples:

My neighbour, a lovely parent to a sweet toddler, couldn't understand it when I said that makeup isn't really my thing. Someone took a look at me and decided I must be female. The feeling was so intense, it nearly choked me.

I attended a meeting on culture in the workplace, apparently tailored to me, only to find myself listening to a fifteen-minute presentation about women in the workplace. I don't even know how to begin to describe how I felt. Unwanted is a word that comes to mind. Unseen, hurt, sad are also emotions I experienced. When I spoke up, I got an apology, but the damage had already been done, despite me being upfront about my pronouns and gender.

My dead name was leaked and I've been fighting ever since to contain the mess, and to make people understand.

My current health insurance is point blank refusing to recognise my gender. They even went as far as telling me that I could choose between 'male' and 'female' and that these were my options, end of. I am considering legal action.

The above is just a small selection of things I've been dealing with. But a lot of that happens on a daily basis, in various situations, time and time again. Armed with pronouns and an openness to talk about my gender identity has changed nothing. People still look at me, see what they want to see, and act according to what they perceive to be the right course of action.

Last week, someone unexpectedly used my pronouns and it had been a long time since I heard 'they' used in a statement about me. I burst into tears the moment I dropped off the call, and even as I'm writing this my eyes are burning, my heart is beating way too fast, and my fingers are trembling.

I don't know how much fight I've left in me, but I do know that all I want is to be seen. It's all I think about. I'm tired of opening a form and not seeing a title that I can identify with or having only two choices for my gender, but then stumble across a section that's asking for my pronouns. I'm neither a 'Mr' nor a 'Ms/Miss/Mrs' and it's not fair that on the rare occasion that more than two options are available for gender, I've the choice between 'other' and 'not declared'. I'm none of these. I am a non-binary human being and I want the world to recognise me as such. In 2022, is that really too much to ask for? Apparently so, and it's exhausting.

You know how they say that hope dies last? Well, there's a flicker of that left in me that still believes we can make this world a better place where people think and ask before making assumptions that fit their narrative, but I must also say that I've spent the better part of 2022 doubting that. Because how can I not when I spent 90% of the time feeling like I don't belong or that I have to be someone I don't know how to be.

#trans positivity #transgender #non binary #gender stuff #queer stuff #real life #transrightarehumanrights #trans awareness #pronouns #lgbtqia #queer life #somewhat of a rant #the reality of it all

20 notes · View notes

xkv8r · 1 year

Text

Hi, I'm XKV8R and I write 1st person vore/feeding scenarios. If you're reading this, you've probably seen one of my other works, in which case you already know what I do, but in case you haven't, I almost exclusively write this kind of stuff for other people.

I don't typically post the stuff I write for myself for several reasons, but mostly because it's weird, messed up, and probably gives you more insight into my mental state than is wise. Today however, I have something thematically appropriate for Easter, so I'm going to try and be a bit more brave than usual and make this public.

3360 words

(CW: Vore, willing prey, implied fatal, M/?, candygore)

Chocolate is meant to be eaten, it is meant to be enjoyed, it is meant to satisfy the cravings that animals evolved to have. Their ancestors struggled for their entire lives to experience slivers of the abundant luxury that they are surrounded by every waking moment. Fats and sugars were rare, valuable commodities to people even a hundred years prior, and I am made of the stuff.

My chocolate shell was masterfully sculpted and enchanted to make me the spitting image of a anthropomorphic rabbit. The spells that animate me flex my limbs in ways that perfectly mimic a real person, stretching and reforming to produce a convincing illusion of life. From a distance, one might assume I was simply wearing body paint, but up close, reality is undeniable. I am a chocolate golem.

I am not truly alive, merely a magical construct given confectionery form and preserved. Kept behind thick glass so that the intricate carvings that mimic fur and clothes cannot be harmed by a careless touch, and chilled to 18 degrees Celsius so that I will not melt in the warmth I so desperately crave. I am cold. They keep me so cold.

I gaze longingly at the store patrons, watching people laugh and chat idly with their families, as they snack on rich sweets and decadent desserts. I wish so badly to be a part of that joy, to be devoured in celebration of a grand event, but I am denied my fate.

I have seen other golems, grand constructs of iron and stone, they are permitted to serve their masters as laborers, carrying and building things. They are content, fulfilled in carrying out their purpose. The spellcraft animating them leaves echoes on my own, and I can sense their joy at serving in these ways. This is what those materials were made for after all, to build and bear loads.

I sometimes wonder if the artificers who enchanted me were cruel. They did not see fit to gift me speech, so perhaps they simply did not know that I could feel lonely in here. I can only wave silently at the passing crowds to greet them as they enter and to wish them goodbye as they leave. I am an advertisement, a display of opulence, that the confectioners who own me could afford to have a golem made from such an impractical material, and even I must admit, an effective one.

People stare at me from across the street, children press their noses against the glass and look at me in awe. These fleeting moments stir the dim embers of desires unfulfilled in me. To them, I am something fantastical, and they let their minds wander and for only the briefest of moments, allow themselves to fantasize about devouring me.

I was not aware for much of my creation, but I can only imagine how much time, effort, and money was spent to create something like me. For something made of chocolate, I am almost as detailed as a real person, molded features accented by fine chiselwork stand as a testament to the skill of the craftsmen who made me, and demonstrate the quality of the stores goods. My body was crafted expertly to appeal to others, gentle curves and a soft androgynous shape contrast with the exotic nature of my construction. Part of me feels guilty at wanting to destroy that. So much work was put into me, the idea of destroying all that to fulfill my own desires feels selfish, vain even. I should be happy, simply to exist, but that isn't enough for me. The shame of being so unwilling to accept my lot in life eats away at me, but the desires do not abate. Chocolate was made to be eaten, and that desire is as carved into me as the pleasant smile on my face is.

I know the regulars by name and face, but also by their steadily growing waistlines. The sweets of this place bring such pleasure that more than a few have cheerfully eaten themselves into obesity. Once, I brought them joy too, I was a novelty, something unique. But now I have become routine for them, part of the background, something to be ignored. I could do it again, I know the gluttony that is hiding behind their masks of propriety. I see them stare greedily at the treats they cannot have, the thick blocks of fudge and glazed pastries they have to leave behind as they waddle home. Yet they ignore me, the most forbidden of fruits. They, like my creators, refuse to see me for the food I am.

The sponge cake and fondant sculptures that surround me in my glass vault are undeniably pretty, but they are edible only in the sense that they could be eaten. They were not made to be eaten. I wonder if I had been made like them, if I would still harbor these desires. It may not have been my designers intent, but by nature, I am edible in ways the other pieces are not. Where eating the other art would be a chore, I could make eating me a once in a lifetime experience. Decadent beyond imagination.

With all my daydreaming, I scarcely notice most of the customers leaving, having been waving at them mostly on automatic, but I suddenly look back to see the staff packing up for the night. The closed hours are always the worst, I don't need to sleep and so, I have nothing but the darkness and my own thoughts for company. When the last of the workers leave, and the lights shut off, I would whimper if I could, but instead there is only silence, broken intermittently by the hum of the compressor keeping me cold.

I collapse in a heap on the refrigerated astroturf, and wallow in my misery. Staring out the window into the empty streets and wishing, hoping, that one day I could be the meal someone needs. Only the occasional night owl or service golem stalk the streets this late, and I can do nothing but watch as they pass me by, ignored completely.

I know most of them by sight as well, couriers and servants who scurry silently from place to place, carrying out their masters will. I am surprised to see a construction golem out this late however, shambling almost aimlessly down the street where it stops in front of my window.

The golem looks at me, it can sense my despair at being unable to fulfill my purpose, just as I can sense its joy at fulfilling its purpose. It pauses, staring at me and I stare back, and then it puts a hand on the glass of my case.

If I had a heart it would have leapt in joy. In my mind I beg it to free me, I know I ask so much of it, to destroy is against its nature, just as to be preserved like this is against mine. "Please." I think, over and over. "Please. Please. Please." When suddenly a crack begins to form where the golem has its hand against my glass prison. "Yes!" I think at the golem as hard as I can, and the cracks start to spiderweb. I take a step backwards and the window shatters. I leap out of the case and throw my arms around the golem in a hug as it quietly contemplates the act it has committed with its hand still outstretched. I thank the golem as much as I can before darting off into the cool night air.

Cool, not cold. For the first time I can remember, the refrigerated cold is gone, replaced by a pleasant evening chill. Balmy by comparison to what I have always known. As elated as I am by this new sensation, my time is limited. In a few hours, my chocolate shell will start to soften, and I will begin to be immobilized by my own melting body, I have precious few moments outside before my body fails me, and I must make good use of them.

The streets are mostly empty by now, and I can easily pass as an ordinary brown rabbit from a distance, so I move swiftly through the streets, never letting anyone get more than a brief glimpse of me. The lack of a crowd is a double edged sword however, I spot few potential candidates for whom I could make myself a meal. Plenty of ordinarily sized people, and a handful with some chub clinging to their frames, but nobody bearing the hallmarks of the gluttony required for something like me.

For a few moments that feel like hours, I fear I will find nobody capable of eating me and that I am doomed to melt before I am eaten. But then, suddenly I hear the creaking of wood and peek around a corner only to see what must be destiny. A racoon is sitting on a bench, which flexes under his immense frame. Long past even morbid obesity, the racoon grunts as he slides his massive behind into a more comfortable position on the bench. He is among the fattest people I have ever seen, even among the confectionery shop patrons. Every bit of him wobbles as he moves, from his ham sized thighs to his jelly like jowls and chunky chest. I watch in awe as he leans forward, doughy gut bulging out from underneath his shirt to retrieve a paper bag and from within he pulls… a single sandwich.

He looks almost as disappointed as I am in the meager meal and quickly scarfs it down as his stomach rumbles so loudly that I can hear it even from my hiding place. He sighs and leans back on the bench, clearly unsatisfied with his dinner as he balls up the paper bag and tosses it into a nearby bin. A flabby arm almost as big around as my leg reaches down to rub his grey boulder of a belly, which pokes out from beneath his shirt, no doubt trying to soothe the gnawing hunger within. Nobody gets that fat on a meal of single sandwiches, even someone born yesterday could see his meal was wholly inadequate. It doesn't take me but a moment to make up my mind. It's too late to fix his dinner, but I can still offer him dessert.

I step out into the open and confidently stride towards the miserable looking racoon, and it doesn't take long for him to notice me. He glances my way before doing a double take, and his jaw falls open in shock. He rubs his eyes but I do not vanish. With so much grace you'd think it was practiced, I saunter over to the bench, sit down, and lay my arm over the side before giving him a suggestive head tilt.

His stomach growls as he picks up the scent of chocolate, and the portly racoon flushes bright red at his involuntary response. He is stunned by the sight of me, and I am giddy with pride. His mouth moves as if to ask me if I am real, but he can't find the words. Instead, he reaches out a paw to gently place it against my torso, and he seems shocked when he finds it solid. The warmth of his touch makes me shudder with anticipation, I am so close now. He lifts his paw from me, but an imprint of his pad and toes remains where his body heat melted the fine detailing on my chest. Confusion and sorrow at having damaged something so delicate marr the raccoons face, but I am filled with joyous glee, I was not meant for a life in a refrigerated display case, I was created to be eaten!

I gently grip his arm, bring his chocolate stained paw to his face and mutely gesture for him to taste it. The racoon pauses briefly before giving in to temptation and tasting the residue coating the paw. As he does, his eyes go wide at even the faint echo of my flavor. Beaming with pride, I puff out my chest and stand ready to be consumed. He has a couple false starts, but eventually gluttony overpowers reason and the raccoon leans forward to lick my sugary coating. The moment he tastes me, all hesitation vanishes. Quashed by the overpowering taste of rich, decadent milk chocolate.

I lay down on the bench, offering myself to the racoon feet first, and he drools with hunger. There's no pain as he bites through my leg, just a numb pop as powerful jaws effortlessly crack open the delicate shell and slice clean through me, his teeth leaving little crescent shaped marks along the edge. Thick sweet caramel filling oozes out of the opening and quickly makes a mess as he eagerly laps up my sticky insides. The opening is simply too big, and viscous blobs drip onto his fur even as he gorges himself, matting it with sugary goop.

When the flow from my leg begins to slow, he lifts me over his head with strength I did not expect and gravity resumes the waterfall of golden goodness. The raccoon doesn't even seem to process the fact that this much filling could not possibly have fit inside that space, every available ounce of brainpower dedicated to experiencing the overwhelming richness dancing across his palate.

With one of my limbs packed away inside the striped glutton, his belly is already looking somewhat swollen, but it's clearly not enough as he chomps down on my remaining leg without hesitation, gulping down more heavenly sweet caramel filling. He lets out cute moans of pleasure as he sucks out the filling from the magically enlarged void before biting through my shell with slow chomps.

Having packed away my lower half without trouble, the raccoon lets out a burp and pants for a few moments while rubbing his belly before looking back and suddenly seeming to understand what he's just done in his gluttonous haze. He stares back in horror, having damaged me beyond repair, and the expression on his face feels like a knife in my soul. Doesn't he understand that I'm just food? That this is what I want? What I was meant for?

I reach out to wipe some of the chocolate smeared on his face off with a paw, before sticking a finger in his mouth. He looks conflicted again for only a few moments as he runs his tongue across my finger and then instinct takes over and he bites down. His eyes roll back in his head as chocolate syrup gushes forth from the break, and he eagerly begins to gulp down the flow of dark sugary goodness. When the torrent from one arm starts to subside, I force the other into his maw and he bites down to resume the flow. Thick swallows bloat out his belly, and I am enraptured by its warm soft texture as it presses against me. My devourer grabs me by the shoulders and bites through my remaining limbs, pulling me closer and pressing me more and more against his belly with every bite.

I am in ecstasy. The warmth is everything I imagined it would be and more. I don't care that my chest is starting to melt and smear against his belly, this feels so right it's outright impossible to think coherent thoughts. I want more, he wants more, we are entwined together now as predator and prey, but soon as blubberball and fat.

He nibbles playfully on my chest, sharp canines leaving little divots in my chocolate shell. His tongue swipes across me, obliterating delicate carving and intricate paintwork, leaving nothing but featureless matte curves in its wake.

My carved fur is nearly completely gone, smoothed over and washed away. It's not as if it would be of any use to me now, it served its purpose in making me an attractive meal, and would only slow my descent into his stomach. Besides, nobody is ever going to see it where I'm going anyway.

The raccoon presses me against the roof of his mouth and the shell along my chest breaks cleanly in two with a satisfying pop. Marshmallow filling, compacted by the chocolate surges outward, swelling me to colossal proportions and forcing his jaws open with a surprised squeak.

It takes minutes of tough chewing to break off a section of chocolate covered marshmallow small enough to swallow. The blob descends like a meteor, exploding outward once it passes the tight confines of his throat and enters his less constrained stomach. Not the least bit deterred by this development, he redoubles his efforts, and I can see his belly swell outward with each gulp as marshmallow goop expands to fill every inch of space.

I savor every minute I get while able to see him enjoying me like this, but all things must come to an end, and eventually he clears enough of my torso to pull my head between his jaws and into his warm, wet maw, shutting me off from the outside world forever. I get one last look at his spherical, chocolate smeared gut before my vision goes dark for a final time. Almost immediately, I can feel myself softening up, heat and saliva work their magic to prepare me for the main event. I can feel the vibrations from groans of rapturous pleasure as he rubs his tongue across what remains of me, mashing my face against it and wiping away more of my features.

Finally, he tilts his head back and swallows, sending my half melted remains down to be digested. Crushed and squeezed by his powerful throat muscles I'm pressed into a stomach already packed to the brim with sugary sludge, and squashed tightly against the marshmallow filling from what feels like mere moments ago.

I can hear him outside, eagerly licking away the chocolate smeared across his muzzle and paws, cleaning each one with a smack. Sounds of gluttonous satisfaction and chocolatey bliss rumble across his blubbery frame, along with the occasional sugary belch.

The sugar crash doesn't take long to kick in, and when it hits, it hits like a freight train. He yawns loud enough for me to hear it over the sounds of being digested, and i fluster myself imagining his wide open maw, wishing I could pass through it again. I slosh about gently as the racoon waddles his way back to his bed, and I can feel him grip his stuffed stomach with both paws, trying to stop it sloshing back and forth but it's a futile effort with how much mass is contained within. When he finally settles in, I hear his heartbeat and breathing slow within minutes of him lying down. All the better for him anyway. I wouldn't want him to waste any of the precious calories a whole persons worth of sugar and butter could provide. Better to ensure as much of me as possible is spent fattening him up, it's what I was made for after all. A decadent reward for a truly obscene glutton, no greater purpose than to provide fuel for a body to grow wider and heavier.

Soon enough, I too, am drifting off. The magic animating me dissipating as I melt into a thick, rich sludge. Even as the spellwork that forms my mind starts to unravel, and my thoughts become slow and unfocused, any regrets I have are smothered beneath an overwhelming sense of pride. I have fulfilled my purpose, given myself completely over to someone and set them down a path of gluttonous excess. I have given the gift of insatiable hunger, an impossible to satisfy greed that will only spur the bearer on to preform more obscene feats of hedonistic gorging. He will barely be able to walk by the time I am digested, I can only imagine how much more he will hunger for when he awakens. He will eat himself fatter than he ever imagined now, all he needed was the right push.

#v.ore #v/ore #v ore #XKV8R Writes

6 notes · View notes

copingwithcomics · 11 months

Text

It's been months now but the manga caps for kase-san still spill out of the queue into my drafts. I've been working on prepping Run Away with Me Girl as the next one to be added in but my career has been distracting me. Sometimes Kase-san is especially hard to look at since it reminds me of my loved. They were also pretty sporty and remind me of Kase-san in a lot of ways. I couldn't help but to think of them while adding in some of the drafts to the queue. I think it'll be nice to move away of series that reflected our relationship into others like Androgynous Boyfriend, Donuts Under the Crescent Moon, Futari Escape and as previously mentioned Run Away with Me Girl. There are definitely parallels to my own life but less connected to my relationship ennui. Run Away with Me Girl tends to hit in Midori's experiences not wanting to be alone with Maki's being scrutinized as not being a real adult while also unable to move forward where as Futari Escape is just relatable as an artist, usually I work super hard until it drives me a little mad and then I loaf around until I'm on a tight deadline again though I wish I had a good enough career to have a dependent who's watching over me.

Right now I'm reading Hello Melancholic which hits some emotions I felt when I was younger and I think I might return to Our Teachers are Dating soon. I feel like I've gone through a lot of major series at this point and might need to search again.

#coping talk #coping

2 notes · View notes

depressedhatakekakashi · 1 year

Note

Please discard this question if it makes you uncomfortable but,

Your takes on the Naruto characters are so much fun to read, they're so unique and sometimes too relatable haha XD but they're also very intimidating to someone still figuring themselves out (me aa (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)). My question is, how did you grow to be comfortable enough to share them in public? And not just Naruto posts, do you have any tips on being more comfortable with oneself?

This is more about being vulnerable with yourself and your ideas then it is about Naruto, topics like these can be very burdensome, so if you don't feel like responding please don't. Wishing you a good day <3

Hchxuxz this is probably going to be a ling answer but i’ll try my best not to write you an essay.

First of all, it took me years to grow into being comfertable sharing my headcannons. When i first joined tumblr i was in the marvel fandom and it was very open ended but not really the best for feeling like you could be free with your headcanons.

I explored things like my own gender through the character of Hawkeye (Clint Barton, hence my AO3 name) and it was hard at times because in that fandom if people don’t like what you’re doing they say so and tbh there’s so many marvel fans that it’s overwhelming

But then I joined the star trek fandom. Because of the premise of star trek (diversity and tolérance) it was a lot more welcoming. People wanted to read about my trans McCoy headcannons and I got to read headcanons i hadn’t seen before (like Trans Uhura, Pan Spock, etc. Things i’d never thought of) and it really opened up my idea’s and allowed me to explore even more.

I didn’t stay in star trek fandom (even though i still adore star trek) because i just… didn’t have the creativity i wanted there. But it’s the fandom that really helped me open up and find comfirt

Not just fabdom helped me though. Space had a lot to do with me finding myself. I was lucky enough to live in other countries away from family, which gave me the freedom to explore who i really am and who i wanted to be. My husband and I were living in Israel when he first told me he was Bi and I told him that i thought I might be androgynous (my gender has changed since then as i found more comfort in myself, but it was a damn good starting point)

The big question though: how did I grow to be confertable enough to share my ideas

Marvel fandom helped me a lot with this. Even though i did leave the fandom, it was my first real experience with people getting mad at me for my takes and at first i let it get to me. I got genuinely upset.

Then when I started tompull away I realized i was letting it affect my real life. I was getting upset with my friends and my husband, and I wasn’t ok with that

I didn’t want to be that person

So i stepped back, took a breath, and thought ‘why do i care?’

I’ve been bullied my whole life for a variety of things. From being a ‘tomboy’ (gender non-confirming) to liking the wrong things (star trek and stargate fan in junior high and naruto fan in high school) to having shit spelling to just… being myself

I got tired of letting the bullies win and decided that I wasn’t going to do that anymore. Sure they could have their say and try and tear me down, but at the end of the day I have love and support and that’s what matters

I have an amazing husband

An amazing kiddo

My parents arn’t perfect but my mom will sure as shit fight anyone who try’s to call me ‘mom’ or ‘mommy’

I became comfertable sharing my reality and my headcannons simply because i stopped carinh about what others think. If they get downright rude and insulting i block them.

As you find yourself and search the world for your meaning and your reality, remmember this one very simple thing anon.

Other people matter, but their opinion’s stop mattering when they start tearing you down. No one has the right to tell you what your reality is. No one has the right to tell you how you should feel.

I found confidence because i realized other’s only tear you down to make themselves feel good. Stop letting them have that win. Stop giving then that confidence boost at the cost of your own confidence

You are amazing

You are beautiful

The world needs you as you are and as the person you are meant to be. Whoever that person is

#sorry it took a while to respond #i was getting hot coco for me and the kiddo

4 notes · View notes

rroderickrowe · 8 months

Text

Reflections on "The Left Hand of Darkness" and "Jamari and the Manhood Rites

A recent review of my first novel "Paradigm Lost: Jamari and the Manhood Rites" compared it to Ursula LeGuin's "Left Hand of Darkness." So, I set out to read that classic novel, having never done so before. Was there really a connection, I wondered to myself? Was my work really worthy of that comparison?

I set as my goal to reflect on a rejected people. It was a selfish thing: to make homosexuality not a travesty or hideous, but instead a part of everyday life. Thus came the world of Jamari, who in the early stage of the novel has cause to reflect on his sexuality. Not because he's afraid of being gay, as I have been through so much of my life, but instead because he exists in a gay world, and he wonders if he may be straight.

What a unique perspective, I thought to my inner self as I developed this theme. No one has ever presented it before!

But they had. Ursula K. LeGuin had done something so long before that I probably wasn't born yet when she conceived of it. I was only six when she published it. Did the reviewer think I had read this work and modeled it after LeGuin's masterpiece?

If I had read "The Left Hand of Darkness" before writing "Jamari and the Manhood Rites," I would never have written it. What I did with my concept is unique still, but I find myself not worthy of the comparison. I put my theme out there boldly, saying to the reader, "this world is gay. Either accept it or don't." Most have not. The novel is practically unread, with only a very few exceptions. Some have read it and then finished the full trilogy. The few who have read it, and then wrote their thoughts about it, have been approving, effusive in their praise, even. But, LeGuin did it far more subtly and her work became a classic.

She presented a human as a barbarian from another people's eyes. Now THAT is a wonderful concept! LeGuin had her alien character describe the human named "Ai" who had come to his world to invite that people to join a galactic community. "There is a frailty about him. He is all unprotected, exposed, vulnerable, even to his sexual organs, which he must carry always outside himself;..."

She described the alien race as hermaphrodite, cycling from androgynous into either masculine or feminine as needed for reproduction during "kemmer." Then returning to androgynous once the 26 day cycle was completed. This was what was "out there" from the beginning of her work, and from Ai's perspective it was alien and barbarian. Then, as he spent more and more time with them, he came to accept their existence as more real and acceptable than his own masculine one. THAT was a wondrous achievement in literature.

Some key words come to mind from the various reviews of my work: "Prophetic," is the one that crops up most and acknowledges the vision I attempted to instill in the work. I feel I can "own" that word when I see it ascribed to the "Jamari and the Manhood Rites Trilogy." After all, it is exactly what I intended when I wrote it. I suspect I won't be alive still when/if that aspect of the work is recognized, though. I just wish I could have done it as skillfully as LeGuin did in "The Left Hand of Darkness." At the same time, I am deeply honored to have been called out as comparing to this work. There can be no higher praise!

#fantasy books #writers of tumblr #paradigmlost #readers of tumblr #rroderickrowe #fantasy world #lgbt fiction #writeblr #left hand of darkness

1 note · View note

trans-at-30 · 2 years

Text

Kinda summary of things posted on Twitter in October:

October 28:

After shaving my face and washing and brushing my hair, I feel so much better. I look at the mirror and think "hey, girl, you are pretty". That is something I couldn't say some years ago.

I know some trans women are OK with their beard, but that was not my case. I remember, as a kid, using tweezers to remove my face hairs one by one, thinking that removing the root would make them stop. I was wrong.

At some point, I gave up. Then, dissociation hit. My body and me were separate, so I didn't care because it was not my body. I stick to a rutine and that was all. Now, I care about how I look, and when I am the way I like, I can't help but smile.

October 29:

Family lunch today, and I had to dress "fancy". But my mom and I have a different concept of "fancy", which to her means "man fancy". So boymode again. Uncomfortable at first, dysphoria later. That's why I don't like fancy so far.

Not that I dress in girlmode yet, but at least any hoodie and trouser combo feels OK for me, kinda androgynous. But these family lunches can get tiring.

What nobody knew is... I was wearing my bra. A small win for me 😁

Note: I'm not out to anybody yet except for my mom, so it's not like she forbid me to dress like myself. But whenever she says "fancy", she expects me to dress manly (which I hate) instead of my usual combo.

October 30:

Today I had a good dream: I reconciled with an old group of friends, all women (the problem seemed to be with the "leader", kinda vandal-like). I was super happy being friends again. Then I told them I was trans, and everyone accepted me instantly. I wish real life was like that.

That's something I noticed after starting HRT: more dreaming. Before that, most of my night sleeps felt like a blackout. I would very occasionally dream, and I'd very rarely remember those dreams.

Now, I have more dreams, and I realized how weird and senseless they can be. But whenever I have a happy dream like that one, I feel very happy.

October 31:

When I read about "less heat tolerance" because of HRT, I didn't expect that I'd go from "sweating hot" to "chill freeze" at the speed of light.

It's like Sonic's motto: gotta go fast!

Just out from my first face hair laser session.

It huuuuuuuuurts.

But if it means "goodbye beard", let's go on.

#lgbt+#trans #trans woman #hrt journey

0 notes

theuniversals · 6 years

Text

i wish i was this cute in real life

#read: i wish i was this androgynous in real life #in other news shoutout to tumblr user milespeterkane thanks for following i feel so validated™️#this has been a post

4 notes · View notes

livebloggingmydescentintomadness · 3 years

Note

Hello! Thank you very much for your answers on the gender identity/soul asks, I found them very thought-provoking. They made me think about my own gender identity. I have no one in real life to ask (where I live is not very tolerant of topics like this), so I am hoping you might be comfortable to share more.

I have been casually wondering if I am genderfluid for some time now — I say casually because I wonder about it when I see posts mentioning it, but also haven’t minded enough to think or do more about it until now.

now, on the other hand, when i asked "would you still know that you're a woman?" you might have thought, "wait... would i?"

O.O This was exactly what I thought when I read your post and it is what made me pause to think for a long time. But also I don’t know if that means I am genderfluid or non-binary. What made me start questioning in the first place was reading about the powers of a Metamorphmagus in the Harry Potter books — a person with the “ability to change their physical appearance through sheer will alone” — and I thought...well that would be a really nice power to have because I could look masculine or feminine or however I want, whenever I feel like it.

Is that a common thought that genderfluid or non-binary people have? Is that how people know what gender identity they are? Even if I disregard my family’s views or where I live, I don’t feel like I would “care” enough to want to come out or present myself any differently, so I am not sure if this is just a common random thought to have, or if it is something that only people who identify as genderfluid or non-binary (or other similar labels) feel. Also I am not sure if these are disrespectful thoughts to have because gender shouldn’t be about physical body parts? If so, I am really sorry and I don’t mean to disrespect anyone, I am just really not sure what to think and whether I am supposed to figure out my gender identity more clearly.

Thank you very much in advance and again I am really sorry if I am being rude, I am trying to use the correct terms for gender/sex/identity but may have mixed some up, please forgive me and correct me if you are willing to 🙏

hello, dear! first off, you're not being rude or disrespectful or anything, don't worry about it. gender isn't defined by body parts (a girl isn't a girl because she has a vagina), but it's absolutely tied to body parts (lots of trans men want to have a penis because it would make them feel masculine).

so it would be transphobic to say something like "you can't be a man, because you don't have a penis" but it's not transphobic for a trans person to say "i wish i had a penis so i felt more like a man." there's a big difference between dictating someone else's body and gender and having particular feelings about your own and what you wish it had or looked like.

whatever you want for YOUR body isn't disrespectful or bigoted as long as you don't try to impose the same standards on anyone else. you're allowed to feel however you feel about your own body.

there's a really insightful post somewhere on tumblr that says "the biggest sign of being a girl is wanting to be a girl." generally speaking, most cis people don't think to themselves, "i wish i was [other gender]." like, lots of women who deal with oppression might say they wish they were men, but usually what they want is just to have equal rights, not to be men.

so if you want to be genderfluid, that's definitely a good sign that you are genderfluid. there isn't a specific test or checklist, it's really more about what makes you happy and the most 'you' that you can be. do you think that being able to change between male and female at will would make you happy? that says a lot, in my opinion.

i'm already pretty androgynous in my appearance, but if i could change my body at will, i wouldn't hesitate to get rid of my breasts and uterus. i feel no connection to them at all, and they just cause me discomfort. i would like to appear simply neutral, because i don't feel like i'm a man or a woman, i'm just a person.

i know this is a lot to think about and it's probably overwhelming and scary, especially in an unaccepting culture, but it's important to remember that you don't have to do anything to be valid in your identity. if you realize you're genderfluid, that doesn't mean you must regularly change your dress between male or female or else you're fake. it's about who you are, not what actions you take.

even if you're not able to explore this the way you'd like to, i think it can bring a lot of good things to your life just to know who you are and know that it's a lovely thing, not something wrong with you. who you are is okay, not bad or sick. there's a whole community of people who completely understand and accept you exactly as you are, as well as how you want to be.

so don't stress about it too much, just keep thinking about it and see what you figure out. if you'd like some more reading, try the 'gender' section of my resources masterpost. take care!

#nonbinary #anonymous #ask

35 notes · View notes

365days365movies · 3 years

Text

March 21, 2021: Orlando (1992)

Tilda Swinton...confuses me.

Like, in a good way. Because Tilda may be the most versatile actor working today. I mean, look at the goddamn filmography, and you’ll see what I’ve mean. I’ve seen Tilda Swinton in a lot, surprisingly, and I don’t think anything I’ve seen was bad. For example, I am an ARDENT defender in the portrayal of the Ancient One in the MCU.

I understand the controversy here, but I actually think this is excellent casting. Especially considering...being comic book-accurate would NOT have been a good idea with this role, if we’re trying to AVOID controversy. But Tilda Swinton FUCKING KILLED IT in this role, and I will always be happy for this choice.

Let’s see, there’s Jadis in the Narnia films, as shown at the top, there’s Snowpiercer, as Mason (an amazing character, and an acting job that Swinton disappears into), Moonrise Kingdom as Social Services, The Grand Budapest Hotel as Madame D., and Gabriel in Constantine. Which is a good segue to the next talking point...

Gabriel is pointedly androgynous, and honestly, Tilda Swinton kind of is as well. You may have noticed that I haven’t used any pronouns in referencing to Tilda Swinton, entirely out of respect. Gonna be a little hard to keep up with, so I’ll be using she/her from here on out, only because those are the pronouns that Swinton’s most recently promoted for herself. She’s also referred to herself as queer of some variety, as well as being famously gender non-conforming.

Which is fitting, given that a lot of that public image began with today’s movie, one of her first big roles. I’ll be revisiting Swinton in the independent movie scene in a couple of months, but this may be a good introduction. Instead of spoiling anything off the bat, I’m gonna jump right in. And so, I present: Orlando. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin with a young man named, well, Orlando (Tilda Swinton), a young man with a feminine appearance and a good upbringing. His name means power land and property, but all he really wants is company. He writes and rests by a tree in the day, but falls asleep by mistake. When he wakes up, he runs back to where he’s meant to be, with a tribute to Queen Elizabeth I (Quentin Crisp) playing in the background. And that’s a REAL song, by the way, actually sung in the 1600s for Elizabeth! Very neat.

A title screen flashes, reading “1600: Death”, and we see where Orlando is meant to be. He speaks poetry for the Queen and her court, but is interrupted by the aged queen, who asks whether or not his poem is appropriate for her presence, as the poem is about youth, and Queen Elizabeth is not that. Orlando’s father (John Bott), who is serving as host to Elizabeth, intervenes on his behalf. However, it doesn’t seem to matter to the Queen, as she invites Orlando back to England to serve as her “favourite”. He accepts, and soon lives alongside the Queen. She quickly promises Orlando much land and property, for him and his heirs, but on one condition: that he does not fade, wither, or grow old.

The same wish cannot be applied to Elizabeth herself, nor to his father, as both grow old and die soon afterwards. Fast forward 10 years, and it’s a cold winter in England. Visiting Orlando’s vast estate is a woman from Russia, named Sasha (Charlotte Valandrey), and Orlando quickly falls for her. This is to the dismay of Euphrosne (Anna Healy), his fiancée? I’m not sure, to be honest, but they’re definitely involved, and she’s definitely upset.

However, this is also a scandal for everybody else as well, not just because Orlando’s already engaged, but also because Sasha is Russian, during a particularly poor economic period for the country. Euphrosne angrily throws his ring back at him, and Orlando speaks directly to the audience, telling us that a man must follow his heart. The two go to his private cottage, and they start to make out, when Orlando suddenly comes down with intense melancholy.

Because this is such great happiness that he feels, but this happiness too will one day end. Which is, like, the most emo-shit I’ve ever heard, but I’m kinda here for it. And yet, that happiness does indeed end, when Sasha is forced to return to Russia, despite Orlando’s pleading for her to stay. He asks her to meet him at London Bridge, so that they may elope together.

Later, Orlando happens upon a performance of Othello, noting to us that it’s a terrific play. This is as the death of Othello is being played out, so that’s probably foreshadowing, right? Anyway, Orlando leads two horses through the thick fog, waiting for Sasha to arrive and come away with him. But as a storm sets in, there is no sign of Sasha. And Orlando stands there in the rain. Said rain, though, soon becomes ice, underneath his feet, floating away down the river, along with his hopes of a happy future with Sasha. The treachery of women, according to Orlando.

Over the next week, Orlando languishes in his bed, asleep for the entire time. Increasingly more servants are brought up to try and rouse him, only for him to remain asleep, no matter what they do. But then, he wakes up, noting that he can only conjure three words to describe women, none of them worth explaining.

Forty years later, and the title screen cries “Poetry”! And Orlando looks exactly the same. Guess he really took that whole “don’t grow old” thing from Elizabeth to heart, huh? He speaks to a poet, Nick Greene (Heathcote Williams), and gushes about his poetry, which is a pursuit that he loves greatly. But Nick is...well, Nick is kind of a dick, to be honest. Orlando wants only to share his love and his poetry with him, but Nick’s only in it for the money. Not a true artist, and he mocks Orlando’s poetry, which he reads only after Orlando offers him money. And then, he writes a poem mocking Orlando further, which angers Orlando...but doesn’t stop the money flowing to Nick.

Orlando moves onto his next pursuit, in 1700, in the next section: Politics. Now over 100 years old, Orlando becomes an ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, and travels to Constantinople. There, he receives a somewhat rough and awkward greeting, which Orlando is not helping with. They share some Turkish coffee, Orlando has trouble drinking that Turkish coffee, they drink a LOT of Turkish coffee, and they toast to multiple things, including the “beauty of women, and the joys of love.” Orlando pauses at this, and reveals that he is still suffering quite a bit of heartbreak. His Turkish friend, the Khan (Lothaire Bluteau), bonds with him about this.

After 10 years, Orlando has fully retreated into life as a Turkish man. This is interrupted by a British emissary, sent to bring him news of a new appointment and power from the Queen. However, something goes wrong when the Khan arrives and takes Orlando hostage. The city is under attack, and the Khan asks Orlando if he will help against their enemies. Orlando agrees, and gives them arms, and heads to help himself at the walls. There, he witnesses a man dying, and it shakes him greatly. And just like before, he sleeps it off for seven days. And then...she wakes up.

YUP. WHAT.

Yeah, um, Orlando is now a woman. Like she says: “Same person, just a different sex.” Which is a very interesting premise, not gonna lie. Looks like Orlando now has to live life as a woman, which is going to be...difficult in 1700s Turkey. Or England. Or anywhere. Or any time.

Still, Orlando approaches this new life with aplomb, and without really any needed caution. Parading in some awesome dresses, she greets fellow nobility as the lady Orlando. However, the emissary from earlier, Archduke Harry (John Wood), begins to recognize her as similar to the lord Orlando.

In speaking with a group of poets, however, Orlando learns EXACTLY what men think of women in this society, and it’s not even a little bit good. She leaves, enraged and embarrassed. Harry also speaks with her, assuming that she was a woman all along. However, Orlando’s in EVEN MORE shit, as she’s quickly served with papers that are an attempt to take away all of her property and titles, because Lord Orlando is legally dead, and Lady Orlando is a woman, which one of them says is basically the same thing. FUCKIN’ YIKES, BRUV.

Ah, but Harry tries to help by proposing to her ON THE FUCKIN’ SPOT. He believed that Orlando was perfect as both genders, and is happy to do it. However, Orlando understandably refuses, and after Harry tells her that she will die as a spinster, alone and dispossessed, she runs into a nearby hedge maze. And while in the hedge maze, time passes, and her outfit changes to match the period accordingly.

Forward 140 years now! The year is 1850, and a new chapter begins: Sex.

And as she runs from the maze, she runs into who else...but Shelmerdine (Billy Zane), a man who...Shelmerdine? SHELMERDINE? What fuckin’ witch cursed his entirely family line to have THAT name? That’s the kind of family that was named AFTER a bridge, not the other way around! WHAT KINDA NAME IS FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE?

Well, I’ve looked it up now, and it is apparently a real name. So, if any Shelmerdines are reading this...I mean, I’m sorry, but also, FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE? OK, back to Shelmerdine. He’s twisted his ankle falling off his horse, and Orlando is now taking care of him. She reveals, in the process, that she’s about to lose everything. The reasons for that aren’t quite said, but Shelmerdine offers a place at his side, back to the great free land of America.

After having a conversation about the roles of men and women in the world (which is interesting given the context of the film in general), the two fulfill the chapter’s imperative. And we never see the act, but we do get some interesting angles and hand-holding. But the next morning, this post-coital reverie is interrupted by the lawyers from the Queen. The lawsuits have been settled, and Orlando has been legally declared a woman, meaning that unless she has a son, all of her possessions will be lost.

Shelmerdine (I swear, every time I say that name, a fairy gets chlamydia) leaves as well, with the southwest wind. As he heads back to America to fight for freedom, Orlando stands in the rain, facing an uncertain future, and broken fully by the politics of the time period.

And then...the sound of planes overhead. Looks like a new time period once again, heading into the periods of World Wars, and Orlando is now...heavily pregnant. OH. FUCK. Welcome to the next chapter: Birth.

We jump past the period of World War II, and to the 1990s! Orlando is presenting a book to a publisher, and he believes that the book will sell. With her young daughter in tow, she finally goes back to her old mansion, now finally able to go back after losing it 100 years prior. The narration from the beginning repeats, recontextualized for Orlando’s new life. She is over 400 years old, and finally, FINALLY...she is happy.

youtube

And that’s Orlando! I think I loved it. Real talk, this was a fascinating movie, and I’m into it. I’m very much into it. I’m sure there’s more to be gleaned from this film, but I’m glad I watched it regardless. More in the Review, though! See you there!

#orlando #orlando 1992 #sally potter #tilda swinton #billy zane #lothaire bluteau #john wood #virginia woolf #orlando film #fantasy march #user365 #365 movie challenge #365days365movies #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #mygifs #my gifs

61 notes · View notes

irlmichaelmell · 3 years

Note

What are things you think people should avoid believing in?

Hi there!! Just saw this sorry and I also wanted to say i love your work however I don't believe I have enough research under my belt to confidently answer this one. I still consider myself too young to consider myself anything but a beginner witch even though I've been researching (or as much as I can as a closet witch) for over 5 years now. I've been in the Otherkin community for around six years and still consider myself as a newcomer in the community. I'd like to point you to others that have a lot more knowledge under their belts such as @/strangesigils and @/aestherians (as I'm not sure if this is meant in a general, witch, or Otherkin sense). I don't have the power or knowledge to say what people should and shouldn't believe in, especially spiritually.

However I will say the one solid answer I have to this is physical shifting (also called p-shifting). It's a dangerous rabbit hole anyone can fall into, especially young people. I'd fallen into this rabbit hole back in 5th grade temporarily, as much as it pains me to admit. I was lucky to only be part of the wishful and fake "spells" and misinformation, others aren't so lucky and accidentally get involved in cults. I've heard stories for years about these and I know the p-shifting community is a big pipeline that they use. Does this mean we can never physically change ANYTHING about ourselves? Absolutely not, it's as Strange said, we are constantly growing and our bodies are ever changing. Growing horns, fangs, or wings is unattainable as much as my trans and otherkin heart detests but simply things like going for a more androgynous, feminine, or masculine look can be attained over time. there's a very fine line that you have to be aware of. If anyone ever says they can physically shift, they are lying.

I will also say, people MUST avoid falling into a cynical nihilistic "nothing in life matters, there is no good" trap. Now, nihilism can be good, I admit, it's helped me get over some of my fears and anxiety and until I was able to not rely on it, however it can very easily become the thing weighing you down most. You need to find the reason for why this all matters, you need to figure out why you are here. I know it might get annoying but I'll say the same thing as everyone else: even a youtube series or a show is a good enough reason to live. They were mine, they can easily be yours. I've had far too many people coming to me severely depressed and suicidal, either relying on nothing to keep them here or relying on people to keep them here. Both are going to be your worst enemy. People are temporary, they come and go in our lives all the time. We can't rely on someone to always be there and we cant rely on our friends to be therapists for us. People can help, sure, but your friends aren't trained professionals.

The last thing I'll say is that people need to stop blindly believing everything they read or see online. I am VERY guilty of this and am incredibly gullible, but it's going to do some real damage if we don't rely on fact-checking these things. For everyday things it might not be fun or great to do this but when it comes to witchcraft especially we HAVE to take matters into our own hands. We HAVE to research what we are being told, which is a large reason i still consider myself a baby witch. I've not read NEAR the amount that I have wanted to and I have held off on doing many things due to this fear. My biggest worry is stepping into someone's territory that I don't belong in or that I don't fully understand. Especially considering the Goddess I've been pulled to is Aine, a Celtic goddess and Queen of the Sidh and have had the urge to work them occasionally. I have heard so many horror stories of naïve people being hurt or things happening that I myself am not prepared for. The reason I haven't attempted Astral travel aside from the few times when I was even more a beginner than I am now is because I feel unprepared, even though I'd done some hefty research beforehand. I haven't done spell work yet because I feel unprepared. Will I know how to properly deal with it if it backfires? What if I have to deal with a curse, hex, or malicious entity? I've been scared to reach out to Aine for fear that something will go wrong, I've been scared of possibly encurring a God or Goddesses wrath, I know I wouldn't be prepared to deal with that. Does this fear hold me back? I feel that it probably is. Is it keeping me safe? Absolutely.

NEVER do something without the proper amount of research beforehand.

#michael.txt #witchcraft #otherkin #<- sorting purposes I don't want to put this in a bunch of main tags if asks show up #yes I've been on this app for over 6 years no I still don't fully understand the tagging system </3 #it's nonfunctional enough as is

6 notes · View notes

mykalarosestar · 3 years

Text

Me: *logs into Tumblr and Twitter; sees FNAF trending* Oh! What is this? Was there a new video???

Tumblr/Twitter: *shows Scott C. for FNAF and what’s been happening*

Me: I...Wha...

——————————————————————

Don’t know how to do that divide thing but anyway-

I read what’s going on with the FNAF stuff and as someone that’s in the LGBTQ community (minority community); I honestly do not know how to feel about it all.

I’ve been in this really lovely fandom when the games were just making their way to the spotlight to even before that note of Scott’s came out. Heck I was really pumped to see what Steel Wool was going to produce (FNAF: Security Breach) and absolutely loved how everything was going.

Though seeing that he did some stuff that’s been so-so (ex: Donating to people that defund LGBTQ spaces and those that wish to hurt Transgender, Non-binary, etc. people in a very “it won’t affect me stance”). It does make my heart clench (already have bills in my state that want to do harm to those people). Plus, as someone that’s been questioning their gender still (even though I identify as Androgynous at the moment) I wish that people would stop fussing about how those people “should/shouldn’t” use restrooms to policing what these people “can/cannot” do. Just let us f-ing live in peace for once for peet’s sake instead of acting like a whinny arse. Understand that there are those much lesser than your cis-heterosexual self that are severely struggling due to the boundaries that your folks have put into place to discriminate and essentially wanting to get rid of them all together.

I do understand that he’s a Republican and Christian, I don’t have anything against that seeing most of my friends are a blend of a lot of the political spectrum to religions (even if we may butt heads every now and then we still get along).

But the harassing to saying “oh yeah let’s send real death threats” is over and above what is “right”. That’s no excuse to send to someone those kinds of stuff.

Yeah I may be cancelled or loose what followers I have, but honestly I think we all need to come together and sort of do what the “Harry Potter” as well as what other fandoms did with their creators and the fan base.

Many of us created content (own stories to games, art to making real-life versions) to ideas of how the lore was for FNAF and the games since there wasn’t a whole lot (examples of people that helped push lore to stories: Dawko, MattPat, Markiplier, 8-Bit Ryan, Scottworld, FusionZGamer, Razzbowski, VaporTheGamer, Rexter, and many more I could list on).

I don’t know really what will be done, if the movie and newest game will cancelled or Scott will depart himself from the FNAF base and let others take the lead instead.

But I will say this.

I will continue to enjoy the games (mostly see play throughs of them anyway-), reblog art from artists (cause all artists need support especially those in minority communities), comment/like stories to lore made by all, and heck I’ll still make all the characters queer in some way (example: Lolbit is non-binary).

That is all I’m going to say at the moment for this stuff. 🧸

#scott cawthon #fnaf #fnaf rant #i dont understand #if only #i honestly dont even know #I wish that things were different but this is life of itself #rants #i’m too tired for this

7 notes · View notes

lionsloveandlies · 3 years

Note

Do you know anything about the movie Performance 1970? If so please would you share your knowledge with us, I find the whole thing so intriguing but know nothing.

Okay I know I received this ask well over a month ago but I rewatched Performance last night and finally feel prepared to talk about it. I'm going to be separating this into two parts; behind the scenes drama and actual film discussion.

Behind the scenes drama:

Okay so the infamous drama that went down that this is known for is that Keith Richards accused Anita Pallenberg with having an affair on Mick Jagger while on set. This almost broke up The Rolling Stones (kind of like how Brian Jones wanted quiet after Anita left him for Keith) but obviously Mick and Keith were able to get over it and I believe not too long after filming Anita found out she was pregnant with her and Keith's first son Marlon. I remember reading stuff that supposedly Keith presumed that the baby might not have been his but christ that boy is Keith's clone.

However I should also mention that initially Marianne Faithfull was supposed to have Anita's role but she found out she was pregnant and had to be recasted (around that time Anita found out she was pregnant as well but decided to have an abortion so she could keep the role - I'm not shaming, actually good for her! there is no such thing as a bad reason to get an abortion!). But I still can't believe Mick cheated on a pregnant Marianne, I know he horribly cheated on everyone he had ever been with but christ Mick, have a little integrity for once in your life! But that same man also cheated on Bianca Jagger so yeah, he's an idiot.

I would also like to add this film was shot in 1968 and I can't imagine how ahead of its time this would have been but Warner Bros execs were apparently incredibly grossed out by the film, in particular the disgusting and filthy conditions of the bathtub that the 'women' (word used in what I read despite the fact Mick Jagger is in that tub as well) were all bathing in. Honestly the filth is what makes the film so much more real and interesting compared to a lot of other psychedelic films from around that time.

The soundtrack for the film was meant to be done by The Rolling Stones as a whole but due to the affair Keith was not interested in doing that and that was when Brian was going through his breakdown after his second drug bust.... so no score from them :( but it's still an amazing score but there are bits that sound, and forgive me if this makes no sense, that sound very Brian Jones-ish. There are aspects of that score that remind me of his contributions, the songs that he had a big part in composing, and even the A Degree of Murder score. I don't necessarily think they were trying to rip him off, I honestly think it helps add to the whole idea that Mick's character Turner is inspired by Brian (and having seen this film 3x I feel like I can see more and more of him in Turner with just a little hint of Keith for balance).

This is a little more silly and I have pointed it out on my blog before but you can see the kaftan Brian wears at the Rock and Roll Circus on one of the clothing racks in the film (also there are behind the scenes photos of Anita wearing it - probably because it's hers and Brian most likely stole it) Here are comparisons:

I wonder if it was revenge for the amount of clothes Anita took from Brian after their big break up... but that's not important. Now onto the film itself.

Film discussion (Spoilers obviously):

I can honestly say I needed the three watches to be able to understand this. I was completely confused the first time around (did not help I took like 3 gummy edibles and it was the second time I had done that... the sound became distorted in parts and the screen was spinning lol) but I still loved what I watched and specifically remember absolutely loving Mick's performance (still one of my favorites) but there are so many layers to this - everyone always seems to hyper focus on the drug aspect and rarely on the sexuality and gender parts of the film. Obviously drugs are a big part of the film - I believe it was one of the film's directors who stated that Performance was made to be a pro-drug film (which is hilarious). But if that was all the film was then it would have been another forgettable psychedelic film much like The Trip (1967) or Psych-Out (1968) (though I do suggest Psych-Out! I love that film) but it goes much deeper than those films do.

With the drug aspect, I like how the psychedelic, tripping scenes weren't like how the other films did it with bright colorful spinning lights all over the place but instead with a kind of ugly sequence that goes straight to the brain - because that's what drugs do, you're not going somewhere else you are entering your own mind. And Chaz, the film's protagonist played by James Fox, sees in his drugged out state Mick Jagger as the role of his boss making references to his sexuality in a sly way while making all of Chaz's associates strip naked. It's all scored to Mick Jagger's song 'Memo from Turner' (love, love, love this song by the way).

Throughout the film the idea of performing comes up a lot (duh it's the title of the film) but specifically the concept of presenting yourself in such a way that it appeases those around you. In Chaz's case it's shown in the film that his whole persona is a performance, that his toxic masculinity and heterosexuality are not really him. That he over emphasizes his attraction to women because that is what he is meant to be but his true self slips in every once in a while, the main visual I remember is his wall covered in nude photos of women but there also being a few photos of boxers that are in great shape and only wearing shorts. There is a character, Joey, that enters the film who has some kind of a past friendship with Chaz but it clearly went horribly wrong as Chaz's boss does not want him to speak to him. But Chaz disobeys and ends up pissing off Joey so he retaliates by destroying Chaz's apartment with red paint (including the word 'poof' written on the wall), beating the crap out of him, humiliating him and trying to get him to admit to his sexuality. He ultimately kills Joey instead because he would rather be a murderer than admit to who he really is.

Chaz and Turner have an interesting relationship to say the least. Chaz, on one hand, seems to be rather uncomfortable by the 'bohemian' lifestyle that Turner and his two girlfriends, Pherber (Anita Pallenberg) and Lucy (Michele Breton), live. Turner and Pherber take it upon themselves to expand Chaz's mind themselves by 1) trying to get him to dress more femininely and trying to get him to admit that it's perfectly fine to feel like you are a woman sometimes (with reference that neither Turner or Pherber fully identify as either man or woman entirely) and 2) drugging him with hallucinogenic mushrooms leading to the musical sequence featuring Turner.

The film implies throughout that Chaz and Turner have some form of an interest in one another, whether it be platonic, sexual, or romantic I think is more up to the viewer (though I would not say it's platonic...) The scene that gets to me while watching is towards the end, Chaz wakes up and find Turner in his bedroom than it cuts to the two of them in bed together and they embrace but then it cuts to reveal that it isn't actually Turner but Lucy (who Chaz thinks kind of looks more like a younger boy than a woman). He does like Lucy but there is a clear sentiment throughout that he wishes it was Turner who did come to his room. Even Turner seems kind of mad that he let Lucy go down to talk to Chaz when initially he wanted to be the one to do that.

In the end when Chaz is forced to leave because his boss finally found him, he makes one final goodbye to Turner (and Pherber) but Turner is insistent that he join him. Turner represents so much to Chaz, he represents what Chaz secretly wishes to be; completely open with his sexuality and gender and not caring if anyone is uncomfortable by it while also being clearly attracted to Turner as well. But Chaz is confused by everything going on (and he has a limited amount of time before he has to leave) and decides the only way he could be happy now is to become Turner. So he kills Turner, there is a quick shot of going through the bullet hole into his mind (similar to the tripping out scenes) and Chaz leaves. The film's ending is Chaz, now played by Mick Jagger, leaving in a car with his boss.

I must admit it took me until this third time watching to fully grasp the ending. Chaz is sick and tired of performing for everyone (i.e. being a masculine, heterosexual man) and the only way to stop that performance is to put on a new performance and become Turner (i.e. androgynous and non-heterosexual) because I don't think he can ever truly be himself. The whole film is everyone trying to get Chaz to be the real him but that's the last thing he could ever want. He'd rather place all these affectations on himself and play a role instead. It's just now this new performance is more aligned with his 'true' identity but nonetheless it's still a performance.

#I have no idea if this is what you intended or wanted from me but here you go anon probably my single most in depth film analysis #I've done - which is sad because I have done quite a few for school but I could never be this impassioned by The Graduate or Natural Born K #illers which I have written essays on :/#Obviously the film analysis part is mostly my opinion so I hope it's not too rambly #Ask

6 notes · View notes