miku expo 2024 is the dashcon of vocaloid concerts. the projectors were replaced with LEDs and organizers told no one, still charged ppl for the projectors. someone stole the Miku canada cut out. vocaloid producers are really mad that attendees are mad that they got scammed because nothing comes before Product. the event banned glowsticks and upcharged the sale of their own, under the excuse that average glowsticks would interfere with the projectors, that the organizers knew they did not have. someone pissed on the floor. car crash outside the venue in san jose
i loooove love love gender as a bizarre performance art type of deal. bioessentialism is so BORING exclusionism is BORING "he/him is for men she/her is for women they/them is for nonbinaries" GAG ME. im here to be weird and sexy. im here to confuse everyone. im here to freak out the people in charge. and im here to be sexy again
[image ID: a yellow square with black text that reads "MISGENDERING KINK BLOGS THAT IS NOT WHAT THIS POST IS ABOUT. WOULD RATHER NOT FUCKING BE HERE THANKS." end ID]
some of you people are so obsessed with having an acceptable group to ‘punch up’ at that you would rather pretend a marginalized group are Basically The Oppressors™ than listen to their valid criticisms about the fact that ‘punching up’ very rarely hits the intended target, and the majority of the actual damage of that act is suffered by fellow marginalized people in your own community. there is a significant difference between venting frustrations about privileged groups and just outright attacking anyone who (you assume) experiences that axis of privilege regardless of - and in many cases outright denying - their actual lived experiences. it goes far beyond just ‘venting frustrations’ when what you’re really doing is trying to find a moral justification to bully people you don’t like, and when your own desire for catharsis and moral superiority leads to ignoring the voices of the vulnerable people you hurt. you’re not ‘punching up’ - you just like punching people for the sake of punching.
The anti-ecto acts clearly infringe on the meta protection acts, but no lawyer in Illinois will touch it, and due to the unlawful detainment and control of Amity Park, it's impossible to hire outside of the state.
Well. Almost.
Jazz signs up for a trip to Arkham, claiming it's a work study before college.
there's an old rumor that floats around the circles of the divine, that the Creator god will eventually and inevitably fall to the whims of the Abyss, consumed by the darkness forevermore. it terrifies the Archons and other divine beings to know that the one they worship and adore so much would have to endure such agony, so as all the devoted do, they try to prevent it. every law and order that is passed prepares only for the Creator's arrival, in hopes that the combined power of Teyvat will be able to keep their god safe and sound, sparing no expense to eradicate the Abyss' presence from the above world.
in their madness, they lay their eyes upon the one they worship and declare them- you- a heretic.
it was like a dream come true when you first woke up in Teyvat, the setting of your favorite game, but the dream quickly twisted into a nightmare as you found yourself hunted by every nation, seemingly every person yelling for your head on a platter. an imposter, they called you- a decoy sent by the Abyss- and for that, you deserved execution and death.
and execute you they did, when they inevitably caught you after weeks of running, your blood running a deep red on the pavement, speckled with nearly invisible stars.
when you wake up again, you first only feel pain, pain everywhere, from your head to the tips of your fingers. you want to cry out, but your throat is bone-dry, only faint, raspy coughs coming out. then suddenly you're surrounded by warmth, a pair of arms grasping your broken body gently with a soothing purr. Childe- Foul Legacy- cradles you lovingly, helping you sit up slightly to sip water before settling you back down with a soft croon, the entire Abyss silent and peaceful in your presence. Legacy traces the scar that runs the entire circumference of your neck with one delicate claw, letting out a quiet hiss at the thought of those foolish gods and mortals who hurt you before holding you closer and giving your head a comforting pat.
you smile, weak and faint, at the action, and Legacy rumbles in delight as the Abyss wraps around you; a dark, starry blanket of warmth and peace.