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aromantic-pantyanarchy · 4 months

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It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

#aromantic #aro #aro positivity #reference to aphobia

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cvrnelians · 11 months

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unfollowed - chapter two

Kendall has been building up the courage to talk to you for a while now. When he finds your Twitter account, he sees this as the perfect opportunity to get to know you anonymously, without any preconceived notions.

He didn’t mean for it to go this far. He’s planning on telling you the truth eventually, he really is! One day. When it’s the right time.

Ideally, before you figure out he’s not Greg.

chapter one

chapter two

He was going to give it back.

Honest.

He was just…taking his time.

Isn’t that what everyone in rehab kept telling him to do—slow down, regroup, take his time? Or was it to take time for himself? Maybe both? He wasn’t sure, he hadn’t been paying too much attention. He was too depressed to meaningfully engage in the 30-day inpatient program he most recently checked himself into.

It was more of a spa, really. So although his lack of engagement in the program didn’t go unnoticed, it didn’t exactly make waves, either. Facilities such as this—those that catered towards the upper echelon of society—could be as lenient as they were luxurious. Nobody got on his case for his meager recovery efforts, which was unheard of in past facilities he’d been to. Again, this place was really more of a spa. The bar was set low for those that paid big. He didn’t learn a whole lot, he didn’t make any real connections, he didn’t acquire any useful coping skills, all of which he had ample opportunity to do. During that month, he basically just went on the elliptical and swam a lot. But he got through it. And most importantly, he got sober.

He was fully intending to stay that way.

He had been sitting underneath a tree at the park, coffee in hand. He reluctantly chose to take the week off of work, having just gotten out of treatment. He was trying to do what he had been told to do: slow down, relax, do some "self-care." He wasn’t exactly sure what “self-care” was supposed to entail. The concept seemed kind of nebulous. If engaging in self-care practices involved the things he enjoyed, Kendall’s main joys in life were really pretty simple:

Personal achievement, and being able to share it with someone.

Limited edition sneakers.

Earning his father’s approval, even in just the form of a nod or the occasional pat on the back (...which was probably a little sad, now that he thought about it).

Music.

Hanging out with Stewy, but only sometimes.

Turtlenecks.

These days, though, he didn’t get much joy out of anything, so the idea of self-care seemed even more perplexing. Kendall had been doing…not so amazing for quite some time now.

Clinically depressed was probably a better way to put it.

Yeah.

He had arrived at a confusing place as far as grieving the loss of his relationship was concerned. At least he wasn’t completely miserable anymore. He accepted the situation to a certain extent, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. He fully understood that being with Rava and their children as a family unit was no longer an option. And because he understood it, he respected her decision. He could concede that he hadn’t been a very reliable husband or father, which was actually kind of an understatement.

But selfishly, he missed them. A lot. He missed having his family there when he got home.

Rava loved him once, but now she didn’t. He couldn’t help but wonder who the hell was going to now. Certainly not his siblings, or his parents, or—considering how downright inconsistent he could be—his own children.

Most certainly not himself.

He was going to at least try and rebuild, though. He figured he would go out, get some breakfast, and run a few errands (with a body guard not far behind), things he rarely did for himself. Maybe it would feel good to be more independent.

His black sweatsuit, baseball cap and face mask had proven surprisingly effective in disguising him from the general public, to the point where he was able to take a stroll through the park without being recognized for the most part. Only a small handful of people stopped and squinted at him. This, he liked. Unfortunately, his amateur disguise (what he referred to as his “rehab uniform,” complete with Gucci slides and a depression beard, so far removed from what he typically wore) had also proven effective in making him feel more self-conscious.

This, he did not like.

But he liked you.

He liked you as much as he could like someone he’d never actually spoken to before.

In spite of having observed you for a solid five minutes now, as far as Kendall could tell, you hadn’t noticed him at all. He felt like a bit of a creep, but he was grateful you didn’t notice him. For one thing, he looked like shit. Even if he never talked to you, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of someone he found attractive seeing him like this. Not to mention, you were on the phone, and he didn’t want you to think he was eavesdropping on your conversation.

He totally was, though.

He heard you before he saw you. You had come and sat down beneath another tree a few feet in front of him. You were clearly exasperated. Someone had chiseled your patience down to nothing. This was made evident by your tone. Not exactly pleased.

“I give up.”

Those were the first words he heard come out of your mouth. You actually kind of startled him. Here comes this interesting looking person, saying the exact words he was thinking just as you walked by. He couldn’t help but wonder if he imagined it. He was curious. Who are you and why do you want to give up? And what do you want to give up, exactly?

You were quiet as you laid out the plethora of things you were carrying along the grass: a towel, a bag, a small book. The person you were on the phone with must’ve been speaking. He couldn’t hear them, but based on your response, he was almost 100% certain they were attempting to reassure you.

You spoke again.

“I gave up a while ago. I had to. It wasn't worth it. He may love you, and believe me, I’m glad you have that relationship with him. I really am.”

There was another pause.

It was a nice statement you made there, but Kendall wasn’t buying it one bit. He heard himself say those exact words to Roman and Shiv several times over, and um…

Well.

They were bullshit. He was bullshitting. He was bold-faced lying to them. He didn’t have to know you—or even who or what you were talking about—to know that you were bullshitting, too. For a split second, he wondered if you were a figment of his imagination; a dream, some form of wish fulfillment or something. He had only heard a few short snippets of your conversation, and already it felt like he was listening to himself talk.

“Ari, I’m never gonna earn his approval.”

Another pause.

“Dad hates me.”

Another pause, this time much longer than the other ones. Kendall sat there listening, willing you to say something. Go on… he wanted to say. He almost wanted to tell the person on the other end of the line to shut up. Go on…

The next sound he heard startled the both of you.

The opening notes of Sabotage by the Beastie Boys.

“Oh my god,” you lamented. You let out a loud "UGHHHHHHH." It took effort for him not to laugh.

“Oh, no. It's fine. I'm just gonna be late for that...thing. Really late. I accidentally set my alarm at the time I’m supposed to be there. I can't believe I did that. I feel bad, I don't want to waste any more of his time."

It was your alarm on your phone. You had set your alarm on your phone to fucking Sabotage by the Beastie Boys.

Was it possible to develop a crush on someone in under five minutes?

“Aria, I’m really sorry. I gotta go. I'll talk to you soon. Love you.”

You scrambled to pick up your belongings and sprinted away, accidentally dropping something behind you as you ran. You didn’t look back once in your haste to get wherever it was you needed to be so urgently.

“HEY!” Kendall yelled. He set his coffee down and ran after you, picking up what you left behind. You were running so fast you didn’t even hear him yelling, and he lost sight of you just as quickly as you took off. He ran for a good thirty seconds trying to find you, but you had disappeared into a crowd. Kendall sighed as he came to a stop. His bodyguard wasn't exactly happy with him. You left him standing in the middle of the park winded and embarrassed, clutching onto a book.

And here he thought all that time on the rehab elliptical would make him a better runner.

Hopefully you would realize you were missing something and turn around at some point. As he sat back down, he noticed that his coffee had fallen over and spilled onto the grass. Of course. He rolled his eyes and leaned back against the tree trunk. He would wait for you to come back, at least for a little while. And in the interim, why not do a little reading?

📚☕️

It was a book, but it wasn’t a book book.

He was amused to discover just how messy, almost comically chaotic the planner was. You had written and scribbled on any and every open space available to you in different colored pens. It was like an assault to his eyes. And yet, he could still make out every plan, event, or important date you had marked down. Organized chaos.

He could relate.

Kendall hadn’t owned a planner in years, not since he hired Jess. And even then, naturally she kept track of everything electronically. But there was something about holding a hard copy planner that felt satisfying to him. He noticed that you often checked off and crossed out your past writings. He wondered what it would feel like to look back on a list of all the things he had accomplished in a week. Maybe he would feel a little bit better about himself if he started physically checking off things on whatever his to do list was for that day. He would have something concrete to look back on and be proud of. Maybe you were onto something, archaic as it was.

He was perusing his way through the planner for while, even though he knew he shouldn’t. It was for a noble purpose, he justified to himself. He was trying to find your name and phone number so he could return it to you.

Not that your name and phone number were both on the first page or anything. Not that he had already found them when he first opened the book or anything. Of course not.

He looked for today’s date. There it was: Coffee date, 11am. At first he was a little disappointed, but he couldn't help but laugh. First off, you were in fact very late. Second, you had drawn a sad face next to it. “Why go on a date if you don’t even wanna go?” he mumbled to himself.

Seems like something I would do.

🌳🙃

“Dude, you already found her instagram. Just reverse image search if you’re that curious to find more,” Stewy said over a mouthful of pizza, grabbing Kendall’s phone out of his hands. “Do you seriously not know how to do that?”

Kendall grabbed his phone defensively. “Obviously I do. God."

He did not.

“Her instagram is like, ninety percent photos of her cat, anyway. What am I gonna find if I reverse image search that?”

“You never know,” Stewy shrugged. “Kinda not cool of you to look through this stranger’s planner, though. Those things are like lowkey diaries to some people. Sometimes even more personal. And then to just not even try and return it, and to look her up on social media...”

Kendall sighed. “I told you. I’m gonna give it back.”

“I mean, I guess I would be curious, too.”

“You would.”

“I mean, I guess as long as you give the book back, it's fine?”

“I will. And it is.”

“But, and I'm just playing devil's advocate here, Ken; you know I love you. You shouldn’t have looked through it to begin with.”

“Stewy, you know you would’ve done the same thing. You know you would’ve. I’m telling you this is nothing malicious or weird. I’m just curious is all.”

“Curious. And desperate. And bored.”

Kendall got up to grab his coat. He liked hanging out with Stewy, he really did.

But only sometimes.

“Alright. I’m going home.”

“Love you, too, Kenny!” Stewy yelled over his shoulder.

He smiled to himself. “Ah. A lovely cheese pizza. Just for me.”

🍕

lol well now we know how ken found her secret twitter. thank you so much for reading/liking/replying/reblogging the first chapter. hope you enjoy ♥️

#kendall roy x reader #kendall roy #succession #i lowkey have the funniest playlist for this story lol

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bunmurdock · 29 days

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👋

saw a post about toxic people in fandom, and while it was strongly-worded, boy do i have things to add.

unfortunately, i know who this post is referring to, and i’ve refrained from talking about them up until now, but i think it’s good visibility for this community to have. that person was a notable presence in fandom and mutual of mine who, over time, underwent a significant personality and blog overhaul. they were once very sweet and intellectually-stimulating to talk to but shifted over to a toxic corner of the comic fandom and began to act in certain ways aligned with that corner of fandom (emphasis on corner of comic side, most comic fans i’ve spoken to are nothing but kind and welcoming). i want to shed light on some things i’ve witnessed. this person was an awesome content creator for live action dd, but, well. feel free to read on and form your own opinions.

yes, this is about briefcasejuice.

if you follow them, you'll have probably seen their posts about live action fandom, i.e. marvel's daredevil is "ableist", "racist", and liking it makes you problematic. like, i understand people fall out of love with media all the time, and i think virtually any reason is valid to leave. i don't care. what bothered me about this person was, ultimately, their repeated hypocrisy and behavior towards others in fandom.

up until the time i unfollowed, i was noticing their posts on my feed—initially innocuous—grow increasingly negative and unproductive. sure, tv discourse and critique is healthy and good, i have my own grievances with live action daredevil. but soon enough, it had extended to fandom, fandom creations, perceived fandom failure to engage with their content, people or ideologies they found problematic irl or on social media, everyday inconveniences, etc. it was just... the same old predictable negativity and virtue signalling reminiscent of those who are chronically online, but lacking in self-awareness and emotional regulation skills.

moreover, i found their response to some sincere, good-faith asks to be disappointing. iirc, there was one situation where some anon was trying to learn about transgenderism, and was met with a disproportionate negative emotional response. it was not a good look, and coincidentally that ask response was later deleted. in another situation, they were kindly asked not to use rape-promoting language in describing certain individuals that they disliked, and their response was to deny it when the language was uninterpretable in any other way. i remember seeing these on my feed, and they gave me pause about being friends with this person.

which brings me to why i'm adding this response in the first place, because while i do not care what views this person holds or what they do on their own blog, what really grinds my gears is the betrayal and disingenuous behavior towards friends in fandom. this person was best friends with user @/pastafossa and seemingly the number one fan of the fic “the red thread”; they’d blog about it repeatedly. i started reading the story because of their marketing. imagine my shock at these posts which were made less than two years apart.

this person also went on to complain repeatedly about a perceived lack of tumblr engagement to their own followers. tumblr engagement is notoriously shit, but there's a difference between asking and expecting. asking is reasonable, entitlement is ugly. and i have to wonder how much of their off-putting nature contributed to less engagement.

not to mention i recently found out that they had joined fandom misrepresenting their age, engaging with me and other adults in fandom through our heavily adult fanworks before they had turned eighteen. they had started engaging with my content in early 2022 with their age listed as adult at that time, but the current age listed on their blog (as of march 2024) doesn't reflect a continuity. further digging on other sites confirms this. this behavior is violating, not to mention that they, at least at one point, had a strict minors-do-not-interact policy on their blog.

it's clear that they over-identify with their interests to an unhealthy degree through their repeated attempts to cull their interests and gatekeep topics that they perceive to be esoteric and cool. and while i agree that there are parts of the daredevil media and fandom that need to change, this level of denial and vilification of one's past and the community that supported them is characteristic of someone who's mentally unwell, and i would encourage anyone reading this—content creators, authors, and artists—to stay away from this person and to brace yourself for fringe fandom behavior like this on this website.

(please do not send hate to anyone.)

#idk. at least they're an interesting character study #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock #charlie cox #daredevil #netflix daredevil

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feelingsoftheday · 1 year

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Blocking, deleting, unfollowing, and muting are forms of self-care.

#feelings #words #quotes #feelingsoftheday #quoteoftheday #life quotes #lit #literature #relationship quotes #inspirational quotes #inspiring quotes #positive quotes #relationship

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the1975attheirverybest · 8 months

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hes just being messy, he was with meredith in la last wednesday and then now is like very public with gab. i actually feel pretty bad for meredith, the unfollow makes me think she thought they were more serious than they were. i dont think dating casually is a crime but all parties should at least be on the same page 😕 (no need to post this just telling you)

I’m very confused by all this and I guess y’all really don’t understand boundaries, respect, or consent. But since I’ve deleted just about 40 asks about this in the past 48 hours or so, fine. I guess we are talking about this. (Not directed at you alone or anything just my general feelings on the subject and on the fandom.) you wanna talk about Matty’s love life? Let’s talk about it.

Matty is 34 years old. Which means he’s well above the legal age of consent and, yeah, god help him, as a cis straight man, he do be acting like an absolute child sometimes, BUT it’s his life. His decisions to make.

From everything that we know about him, and especially after the ENTIRE FUCKIN WORLD turned against him over the summer, he is a lot more kind, compassionate, smart, self-aware, gentle, and pure-hearted than anyone’s ever given him credit for. Even his own fans. Say what you will about Matty Healy, but if it were me, in his shoes, I’d feel more than entitled to be Turner bitter towards the public what with the way we all (yes, we, as his fans too) have been treating him. But NOPE. Matty is a way bigger person than most of us. He didn’t say a damn thing. He kept his mouth shut and his head down and he did what he needed to do, he never let any of it deter him from being vulnerable and honest with us and putting on the best fuckin show that he could possible put on every fuckin night.

If that doesn’t earn him the benefit of the doubt then I don’t know what will.

I’m not sure why or when some of us have decided that it is our place to observe what goes on in his love life, to monitor his following/followers lists, to draw conclusions based on those numbers, or to consume public glimpses of his interior life as if it’s some tv show or movie or reality tv, even when those images are taken without his consent, and decide Meredith is not “marriage material” or Gabriette has “an aesthetic that I can finally get behind” (which, by the way, is a very sexist and disgusting thing to say about them as well as Matty, but I guess this fandom is hypocritical and will turn against its own values as soon as Matty Healy’s dick is involved), but at some point apparently that happened and we started to treat him as less than human.

Fine, fine, I’ll even give you that much. Be sexist. Be judgmental and creepy and all up his ass. But to do all that and then “feel sorry for Meredith” call him a “mess”??? When you LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED BETWEEN THEM?!!!!! How do know she thought it was more serious than it is??? Were you there??? Since we’re making judgements and assumptions based on the tiny fragments that we see, I’m gonna go ahead and make a judgment of my own and say since I didn’t see you in the middle holding one of his hands and one of hers, then you weren’t there. So why do you feel qualified to talk about what he may or may not have done??? Do you know him? Is he your bestie???? Did he confide in you??? Hmm? Fuckin tell me!!!!

To summarize: he’s a form of entertainment to you. You don’t care about his boundaries. And you have such a low opinion of him that (despite him proving in what is objectively one of the worst things to happen to a public figure, that he’s endlessly graceful and kind) you will comfortably assume the worst of him without A SHRED OF ANYTHING REMOTELY RESEMBLING EVIDENCE. So….why are you a fan? Hmm? Why do you feel comfortable supporting someone you think so little or and have no respect for as a human being?

If any of you really think “he deserve love” and “he deserves companionship.” Then you’d shut the fuck up, stop engaging with content that commodities and dehumanizes him, and mind your fuckin business for fucks sakes.

I mean, how would you like it if, based on a 7 second story on Instagram, or a tweet you made about your personal life or whatever, I (somehow who knows absolutely nothing about you) came up to you and was like “omg I noticed so and so has unfollowed you. Then two days later you posted a pic with this other person. You must have really crushed someone’s heart and led them on making them believe you were more serious than you actually were. And now you’re using this other person who appeared in a picture with you. That is concerning behavior my friend.” If you’re okay with me doing that to you then you and I must live wildly different realities.

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dwn024 · 6 months

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do you not like megaman anymore?

to be honest this is a difficult question that makes me incredibly sad to think about because i WANT to still like megaman, it was my favorite thing in the world for a fucking Decade, but in the last two years or so like starting early 2022, the tumblr fandom suddenly exploded and became really active out of nowhere and i wanted really badly to be involved in the community and make friends with other fans, but at every opportunity it feels like i was being actively shunned out of the fandom because in tandem with it suddenly becoming extremely cliquey it felt like people just fucking hated me and didn’t want me to be there.

i don’t know if that’s Exactly what was going on but that’s sure as hell what it felt like, especially after people i Thought i was getting along with and making friends with [who were also extremely popular within the fandom and the people it feels like an exclusively clique formed around] suddenly started hardblocking and unfollowing or softing me out of Nowhere, including someone i was actively friendly with as recently as august, who i really thought i was making friends with!!!!

and they’re still mutual-in-laws and i don’t just want to sever all connections and hardblock anyone mutuals with them because it’s not my mutuals’ fault and i like my mutuals i donKt want to lose a significant chunk of them it just makes me even more self-consciously paranoid about what i did wrong that my mutuals evidently did right. i don’t even care about these people i don’t want their fucking approval or anything i just don’t want to be silently shunned en masse without a single person ever explaining to me what the fuck is going on!!!!

i already have prior issues with psychological bullying and being given the silent treatment en masse for Years when i was younger, so this sort of thing happening AGAIN with Zero explanation or communication or anything just silently excommunicating me from the thing that was my Number One Greatest Passion For The Majority Of My Life just contaminated the whole thing, and now it makes me physically ill to go near, which Isn’t hyperbole i mean literal psychosomatic physical symptoms from emotional contamination OCD

this has happened before with other ex-interests of mine that felt devastating to have to suddenly drop due to contamination but with megaman it feels especially heartbreaking because it’s the only one of those things that i was THIS passionate about. i WANT to still be able to enjoy megaman without reservation but because of all this petty fandom bullshit no one ever fucking talked to me about to explain why no one wants anything to do with me, now any mention of it makes my skin boil from the inside and peel off as if i was just dropped in a vat of acid

sorry for ranting so much i didn’t meanj to get so vehemently upset about it i’m just still sad that i can’t go near it anymore for reasons beyond my control. tl;dr it’s complicated

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livingobserver · 7 months

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CAUTION: My BLOG is not intended for your kids looking over your shoulder, nor when you walk away from your device leaving it "Open". Nor is it intended for any other under-developed minds. It is "Safe For Work" but still requires a Mature Mind. This BLOG requires the ability to think beyond the surface of Every Thing. A rare Life Skill indeed. If you are easily triggered by Nudity, Social Commentary, Graphics of all forms, as an Art Form(images). You don't want to be here. It wouldn't be me, to tip-toe around excessive sensitivities and I will not. The only thing I hope to trigger in you is the ability to NOT..., immediately jump too a conclusion about anything until you've bothered to give it some more thought. Troll's look for any reason to jump too immediate conclusions. Because that's the easy thing. Don't be a Troll. Why post this caution? Because I'm about to care a lot less about the opinions of Shallow Minds. I should make you aware of that so that you don't take it personally as a Mature Intellectual. This is for those I will Block and Unfollow from this point on, who display immature, unhealthy, Self-Inflicted Blindness, to this World as it is generally agreed upon by the rest of the Human Majority. THIS blog has, since the start been under the tent of "Mature Content". But not obsessed with Sex or any other thing. Having said that..., if you are seeing it then you have failed to make sure you're Tumblr settings are that which you need, or you are the type that looks for things to trigger you. In which case I suggest Therapy.

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makingspiritualityreal · 9 months

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I just wanted to say that I'm unfollowing you. You speak of self love and femininity and love for your body if you really loved your body even just one bit, you wouldn't stuff yourself like a trash can so that you look like you’ve been stung by thousands bees. Self-love begins with self-respect and you obviously don't have that how else could you do that to your organs, your bones you know that all your organs faten even your brain, it's almost funny that you just think you can present self-love and femininity if the only thing you present is is MC Donalds then you are also outraged when you get comments that people don’t want to see your naked fat body and you force them to see you as beautiful my tip self-love begins with respect stand in front of a mirror and first recognize who you are

At first I wanted to ignore you, since some things are just not worth the time and attention, but then I realised people like you are exactly the reason why I do what I do.

Surely you must have thought you were invited into a world of clichéd photoshopped Astrology babes, but that is not who I am or want to be. I live to trigger people like you.

There are so many women out there, feeling bad about themselves. Of different sizes, with different problems. What if I was a burn victim, or was battling a serious disease? Should I hide, or should anyone else hide because of that too?

Our bodies change and reflect what is happening to us in our lives. Mine bears the mark of many years of abuse I suffered. Depression and suffering can make people drastically put on or lose weight, and what you should worry about is their well being, nothing else. There was a time I suffered in a different way, and looked androgynous because of it, had a completely different form. Was I happier? I barely looked my gender, I was medicated. Hardly. Being comfortable in my skin as a woman was a process and a discovery for me. One that I cherish. It's something I fought for and won on my own, and quite frankly your stupidity and short sightedness can't take that away from me. I'm happy about every curve. One day life may take me to a different place again, I never know. I'm sure I will have a reason for that too.

Our bodies tell a story. They show what we have been through and who we are. The modern standard of beauty only allows women who are demure in a particular way. It's like having all trees only allowed to grow a certain way. But the world is diverse, and that's just not the reality of things.

My goal is to show one shouldn't be ashamed of themselves just because they bear the mark of the difficult things life put them through. So many people are ashamed, to the point they don't want to leave the house. My body bears the mark of exhaustion. Of having little to no means to care for myself, and absolutely everyone being against me just because it was more convenient for them. It is not going to look chiselled and polished. If I was a garden, I would be one that has no gardener and has broken branches after it suffered from years of a constant hailstorm. That is naturally going to show. And I'm not going to pretend otherwise. I'm not going to be silenced into pretending I was fine my whole life, even with my life improving. Because that would be supporting my abusers, who tried to silence me, just so that they can be comfortable and get away with things.

People go through things, and that affects what they do. My personal pet peeve is seeing people who did a lot of plastic surgery, but honestly, I don't really go out of my way to judge them. Because they also cover their scars with it. I don't know their story. Sometimes life is just so bad you don't want to be who you were before anymore, and it makes people go to drastic means, to change that.

You have no right to make any assumptions about how I lived my life, and what you said is complete bs. I was raised in Poland, where food is healthy and organic. And laughing at people who eat fast food can make you double cruel, when you realise some people in the United States, where I live now, simply have nothing else left to eat, as prices of healthy food here can be punishing, and they're forced to substitute on fast food. It's not how I live my life, but some people have it worse than I do. They are homeless and struggling, some of them resort to drugs out of despair. Watch your mouth before you insult someone like that.

I detest the hypocrisy that is put on food enjoyment. If a skinny girl enjoys fast food, she's "a hot girl enjoying herself" or worse she hears "give her another burger, she needs to eat more" which honestly is just as bad as your cruelty towards me. I always felt sorry for those women, who simply can't help their genetic disposition.

Life exists to be enjoyed. Food exists to be enjoyed. Historically, on certain holidays throughout the year, people used to do rituals related to the blood of animals and stuff themselves. Now, society has stigmatised it...so people are doing the same thing, ashamed, lonely and unhappy, getting sick inside their houses. People don't acknowledge the animalistic part of themselves. They're afraid to admit they don't want to just eat work have polite relationships and sleep. There is a part inside every human that wants to gorge on life. It wants to devour, fuck, ravage, pillage and burst through. I love these parts of myself together with all the other ones. Can you say the same for yourself?

People who don't love themselves to the core suffer physical ailments. Caring for your organs means acknowledging your mental and emotional state also has an effect on them. I personally know best the number one enemy of organ health is stress and hardship, because then you can't properly process even lighter foods. Repression is not anyone's friend. There used to be a worldwide culture about celebrating that. Now, people don't acknowledge it. It is absolutely my goal to talk about it and expose this part of human nature, as equally worthy to everything else.

The only right thing to ask people whose bodies have changed one way or another is if they're unhappy or why. It's to inquire what is happening inside them. Because that is the root of anything you see happening externally.

It is people like you that made me feel self hate for the longest time, for the fact that I was carrying things that were so punishing on me. I am not innocent or inexperienced, or untouched anymore. But now I take it as a badge of honor. I have the courage you never will. I feel sorry for you and your narrow mindedness. Someone must have hurt you once upon a time. Leave your assumptions about me or people who are coming to my space, trying to heal, alone, on your way out the door.

#spiritual journey #spiritual growth #spiritual #spirituality #making spirituality real

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leandra-winchester · 1 year

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I was saving all of this for a longer post I wanted to write, a nice, calm and factually argued essay on why I do not support the current TRA movement (but do support trans people). I wanted to take time to point out how the TRA movement employs fascist and cultish methods to dictate a narrative, prevent any kind of criticism and critical thinking. I wanted to do all that, but no. That post just now drove me over the edge.

I could not bear seeing that on my dash without replying.

This is a PSA.

If you think this movement is right in the way it a) frames and b) executes its protests (i.e. dictating who to listen to and threatening women with rape and other violence, and even committing it sometimes), unfollow me.

If you think women do not deserve protections based on their biological sex (i.e. being fine with violent male rapists being sent to female prisons just because they claim to be trans women), unfollow me.

If you aren't even prepared to listen to detransitioners, to gender clinic whistleblowers and read recent studies and publications on the detrimental effects of puberty blockers; if you're not at least ready to re-assess the stance that children even as young as pre-teens should be affirmed in anything they say; if you cannot do that and admit that good intentions sometimes lead to bad conclusions, unfollow me.

But if there's even an ounce of doubt in you about any of those issues and whether the current movement is always so right, then please, please approach this with an open mind. Listen to other people. Read their accounts.

Listen to other trans people, too, those who are not inside this TRA bubble, like Buck Angel, Debby Hayton (and yes, Blair White, controversial as she is and as much as I don't agree with her on many things).

This movement harms trans people TOO! Do you seriously want to lumped into the same category as people like Barbie Kardashian or Jessica Yaniv? Do you want the general public to see you as that - as what are clearly men abusing the flawed self-ID system? Do you think honoring their chosen identities and pronouns - as the media and authorities do - is more important and noble than siding with the victims of their crimes? You cannot truly feel that way. I refuse to believe that the majority of you do not care about their victims.

We can still turn this around, we can go back to supporting each other and respecting each other despite our differences. But it's getting harder and harder to achieve the more damage these "activists" are doing.

I've been holding back for almost 3 years now. 3 years in which I've listened, read, watched and continuously re-assessed my own views based on the information - from ALL sides - I was able to obtain.

Please do the same. Form your own opinions, and don't just blindly follow the mob.

#trans rights activism #feminism #personal PSA #this activisim harms everybody except violent men #trans people included #trans activism is a cult

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starklyscifi · 7 months

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Bloody Things and Pretty Rings

CN: mentions of death, depictions of blood

Chloe was shocked when Aria walked into the restaurant looking like a stranger. The girl with the long lifeless hair and poorly fitting clothes had turned into a stylish woman with a chin length messy bob and a middle part.

The gold ring on Aria’s hand was the only thing Chloe did recognize.

“Chloe!” Aria squealed. Like they were back in high school.

At her therapist’s insistence, she had unfollowed Aria. The last post Chloe saw was something about landing a journalism internship.

“You look so different.”

Aria laughed as she settled into her chair and ordered two ice waters and two house salads

“Really? I think I look more like myself than ever.”

That made Chloe want to dig out their old Facebook albums. Maybe they would also answer the nagging question at the back of her mind. Aria must have decided to copy the style of one of their friends, but Chloe couldn’t figure out who. After getting over the initial shock of her new appearance, there was something hauntingly familiar about Aria.

Awkward silence settled between them while they waited for the food. Chloe complimented the leather jacket Aria had carelessly flung on an empty chair. She was immensely jealous of it.

“It’s so easy these days, with all the old styles coming back. Just hit up a thrift store and you’re golden. Vintage is always the way to go.”

Chloe used to be the stylish one. Now she was hanging on by a thread. She knew every decent thrift store in a ten mile radius and they all knew her by name. One of them even had her picture up on the bulletin board behind the register. But if she went on Saturday mornings, the tired teenage employees were too busy to care.

There was nothing easy about it. She looked like a shell of her former self and that took mountains of work.

Aria was still talking. “Of course, I could use some help, if you know what I mean.”

She spun the ring on her hand as she said it. Chloe had been trying not to stare at it.

“Good thing you have it then.”

The waitress sat their plates down and vanished.

Chloe chugged her ice water. She thought it was in bad form for Aria to bring up the ring. There was no call for her rub it in Chloe’s face. Especially after all this time.

“Well, sure. But you never did tell me how to use it.”

Chloe snorted. “Looks to me like you haven’t had any issues.”

Aria sighed, putting down her fork. “Listen, Chloe, I didn’t want it to come to this, but you were always quite dense. Tell me how to use the ring or I’m going to have to make some phone calls about what really happened to Mackenzie Johnson our senior year.“

“That was an accident.” Chloe had said it so many times she believed it.

“Oh sure, but her parents would still like to know the truth.”

Aria raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“I can’t explain it,” Chloe said through gritted teeth. She waved her hands, “You just use it.”

Putting on that ring made the world effortless. She didn’t know how to explain that to Aria.

Aria who had her phone out and was furiously typing on it. With her manicured nails and perfect winged eyeliner.

“What else could you possible want?”

“I told you, I want to know how to use it.”

The forks and knives of other diners clinked while Chloe sat silent. Calculating.

“Tell you what,” she said finally, “I’ll make you another bet.”

A bet was how Chloe had lost the ring to begin with.

Aria shrugged. “Fine, I win, you tell me how to use it. Or I ruin your life.”

“Our lives. You where there too when Mackenzie drowned. And if I win, you give me the ring back.”

Aria grinned. Chloe faulted. Maybe she was underestimating how much Aria understood about the ring.

“I doubt that’ll happen, but sure.”

Chloe felt like a sweaty mess, but she tried to look cool as she leaned forward and said, “I bet you can’t get our waitress to give us our meal for free.”

Aria grinned again, waving the waitress over and starting to sweet talk her.

Chloe didn’t pay attention to what her former friend was saying. It was didn’t matter. She was thinking instead about how lucky it was she had shelled out for the fancy vitamin D supplements. The ones that came in a glass jar.

The waitress left, annoyed. Aria was flushed, looking down at her salad.

“Oops, guess that didn’t go well,” Chloe said, dumping the pills in her purse and dropping the bottle on the floor.

“Doesn’t matter, you can’t do any better. You were always terrible at dealing with people. You’re too blunt.”

Chloe smiled, bringing the heel of her vintage Chelsea boots down hard on the bottle. She felt it smash.

Still smiling, she reached down for a bit of broken glass and dropped it into her salad. Aria snorted, unimpressed.

Chloe scooped up lettuce with her fork. She bit down hard, blood filling her mouth. She paused for a moment, soaking in the horror on Aria’s face.

And then she spit the bloody mess on the table and started screaming.

After all the screaming died down and the manager profusely apologized, not only comping their meal but giving them a voucher, Chloe held out her hand to Aria.

Aria wordlessly dropped the ring into her palm. The girls might have their faults, but a bet was a bet.

There was no rush when Chloe put the ring on. It was like waking up from the most restful sleep. Blinking awake invigorated, the best version of herself. She swept up her purse and her scarf and got up.

Aria looked down at the table, her hair starting to frizz. “I didn’t even use it, I built everything that I have.”

Chloe laughed as she exited the restaurant. She went straight to the mall and everything she tried on fit. The security guards smiled as she walked out the door, a bag full of clothes with security tags. Not a single alarm went off.

More than that, everything made sense. She already had a hundred likes on a picture from the dressing room. She knew who she was again.

The apartment was dark when she got home, illuminated only by the streetlights. Looking in the hall mirror, Chloe finally put a finger on who Aria looked like these days.

Her.

#flash fiction friday #flash fiction #flash fiction challenge #flashfictionfriday #flash fic #original writing #original horror #horror writing #writeblr #writblr #writing community #female writers #writers on tumblr #horror writers #horror #horror story #tw blood #tw death

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criminalhcart · 4 months

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CRIMINALHCART is a roleplay of JEREN MCARDIS, a character from Godfuckers, an original scifi/romance story written between @jorriimmian & @feliivian. (This will also be a roleplay blog for various side characters from the story.)

Tags & 'Verses | Aesthetics | Incorrect Quotes | Toyhou.se

Status: semi-active; semi-selective; singleship w/ strict exceptions; multiverse; multimuse; semi-selective; OC-friendly; fandom-friendly; xeno-friendly; explicitly NSFW; accepts magic!anons and memes.

Primary Partner(s): @notsomajestic & @bronzewool

Current Side Muses: Daldic; Lyrenn; Surtr; Torigon.

WARNING: Be advised that I am 30+ and this is a PROSHIP space. The following dark & triggering themes can and/or will be explored: alien genitalia; xenophilia; rut cycles; explicit dubcon; size difference kink; anarchy & anarchic idealism; abduction & ransoming; arson; vandalism; assassination; murder; torture; thievery; pickpocketing; hijacking; home invasion; trafficking (weapons, exotic animals, drugs, etc.); explicit gore & violence; third-party incest mentions.

RULES

⇀ Paragraph-styled roleplay is preferred.

⇀ I DO NOT participate in “reblog karma”, though I do try to make the effort to send things in when I can (or if it interests my muse).

⇀ I have no triggers and I am willing to roleplay / explore anything.

⇀ You MUST be 18+ to write with me.

⇀ I WILL NOT put NSFW content under “Read More” cuts. (I will, instead, tag and label these posts accordingly.)

⇀ I roleplay DARK and TRIGGERING themes:

You are within your right to decline from writing these types of themes with me, and I encourage you to do so if you're uncertain/uncomfortable! You are expected to respect and show tolerance towards myself and those who are willing to write these types of themes. You are expected to either blacklist my tags or simply unfollow / block me if blacklisting is not enough. Reminder: Your self-care is your responsibility.

⇀ Please, DO NOT unload your personal life’s baggage onto me.

I have my own issues to contend with, and I’ve also had two extremely negative experiences being someone else’s support system. So, please, don’t come to me about any self-depreciating thoughts of suicide, self-harm, deleting your blog, doubting the quality of your writing, etc. I am not that kind of person for you, I'm sorry.

ABOUT ⋙ JEREN

Name: Jeren McArdis Nickname(s): Boss Age: 64 (but appears 24) Gender: Male Species: Human Height: 5'8'' / 172cm Sexual Orientation: Heteroflexible Homeworld: Nunoon City / Town: Mournside Township Role: Crime Lord Language(s): English, Galactic Common

STRENGTHS

⇀ charismatic ⇀ a pinch of the devil's luck ⇀ tenacious & driven ⇀ unpredictable ⇀ protective ⇀ observant ⇀ a strong sense of loyalty & devotion to those he considers family and friends

FLAWS

⇀ chaotic energy & volatile temper ⇀ brief moments of unhinged mental & emotional states ⇀ difficult for one to keep his attention ⇀ dangerous for one to keep his attention ⇀ quick to attack people, if only for the lulz ⇀ is driven more often by his whims than his morals

💕 LIKES

💕 kitty cats 💕 cigarettes 💕 arson 💕 pretty girls 💕 doing crimes

☠ DISLIKES

☠ government & military ☠ cold climates ☠ law enforcement ☠ interrupted sleep ☠ spontaneous rain / getting wet

CHARACTER INFO

Jeren is one of the few million full-blooded humans remaining in the universe. When he was fourteen years old, he enlisted in an interspecies military league, and per his contractual agreement, he was underwent genetic enhancements. He served in the military as special forces for six years before he deserted; his team was too often being dispatched to either halt uprisings from oppressed castes, to aid in the enslavement of a species by another, or to displace an entire species from their homeworld for the colonization/business aspects of another. After desertion, Jeren turned around and formed a group of vigilantes with the four soldiers who had followed him, and then he established a place of safety and security beneath the surface of a barren, lifeless planet. This sanctuary soon became the shelter for lost, hopeless souls, and the growing town was named the "Mournside Township". In order to sustain those who now relied on him for protection and their survival necessities, Jeren embraced the lucrative business found in crime, and he broadened his band of followers, becoming the "Mournside Brotherhood". The brotherhood became involved in numerous illicit activities: smuggling and trafficking drugs, weapons, exotic creatures; abduction and ransoming; assassination; arson; etc.

GENETIC ENCHANCEMENT

Jeren has the ability to heal from most injuries, including traumatic and non-instant lethal wounds, and he wields the power of telekinesis. With his hyper-regenerative properties, his lifespan has also been lengthened nearly four times that of the average human's. These enhancements came from the single injection of an unknown species' DNA, and it was explained from the beginning of the process that the drug would push the recipient through the next three links in their species' evolutionary chain. The initial design for the drug was for its healing properties; however, it was most fortuitous for the military that the side-effects included formidable powers/abilities. Because the recipients of the drug varied in alien species, the results varied drastically, too. In Jeren's case, full-blooded humans develop the power of telekinesis. The universal side-effect, however, is that the recipient's irises gain a prismatic quality and a faint glowing, glimmering effect.

#oc rp #original character #original character rp #oc roleplay #original character roleplay #scifi rp #scifi roleplay #scifi oc #human oc

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