Latest Posts by dontkickmyshin - Page 8

Random MelloMatt HCs

-Mello and Near call each other when they're stuck on the daily crossword. The phone calls consist of:

N: Eight letter word for stubborn. Fourth letter is U.

M: Obdurate.

N: That's the one. Ciao.

----- next day -----

M: Can you please, for the love of fuck give me a hint as to what the pissing answer for 22 across could be?? I haven't got a fucking clue. Matt insists its Impermeable but I KNOW he's wrong.

N: Matt is correct.

M: Motherfucker! Peice of shit fucking paper! Bye Near, I hope you have a terrible day. Matt says hi.

-Matt is a spontaneous gifter. Not only is he great at buying random gifts for Mello when he leaves the house, but he's also great at making them. Like out of nowhere he'll whip out a mini origami crane and give it to Mello and say something lame yet endearing like

"Hey, hi I made you something. Hope you like it. 🙂" And everytime Matt does it, Mello's heart does 10 million summersaults and he feels so loved he could cry.

But Matt also uses his gifts for 'evil' if he feels like being a little shit. He'll walk up to Mello and be all sweet like: "Hey Mels, I have a gift for you. 😇" And Mello is presented with a surprisingly detailed sketch of a butt. When he asks who's butt it is, Matt tells him it's Near's (it's not, but that doesn't stop Mello from physically recoilling at the mental image that brings up) and Mello doesn't speak to him for the rest of the day. This is Matt's favorite way of pranking Mello bc there's a 50/50 chance Mello will either laugh about it or become instantly furious with him. Either outcome is hilarious to Matt because Mello's reactions are priceless. One morning, Matt drew a mini comic of Roger as the Ice King from Adventure Time and Mello laughed so hard orange juice came out of his nose.

Mello ofc saves and cherishes all of Matt's little gifts. He has a sizable jewelry box that's filled with random origami, love notes, doodles/sketches, mini dream catchers, friendship bracelets, and a litany of other crafty gifts. Some are from when they were kids but most of them are recent. The few from the Kira case are the ones Mello appreciates the most. It reminds him of how even during the darkest moments of his life, he had Matt by his side; loving him and giving him dumb, cute little gifts.

Mello isn't very good at making stuff, but he does give Matt an occasional note or scribbly doodle. Sometimes they spend the whole day passing notes and sketches to each other. Most of the time they try to make each other laugh, but they'll occasionally slip in something romantic or sweet. Or spicy, to keep things interesting 👀

-Mello sends Matt selfies whenever he leaves the house. It's always random; most of the time they're thirst traps but sometimes he'll send a close up of him making a goofy face or rolling his eyes. When he goes clothes shopping he sends Matt pics of all the outfits he likes. Matt always responds with some kind of emoji, meme, or selfie of his own.

Matt adores all of the selfies and has a whole folder on his phone and computer dedicated to them. When he's sad or missing Mello, he'll scroll through them and it always cheers him up. He also sets them as the backgrounds on his phone and changes them like every other day bc he can never decide which one is his favorite (they're all his favorites ofc). Matt usually sets the goofy/unflattering selfies of Mello as his background bc it's rare to have a picture of him being silly, but Mello throws a fit whenever he notices it 😂

...

Enjoy some random hcs!

As some of you may know, these past few weeks were pretty rough on me and my family. Everything's alright now, but things were scary for a while. Now that everything has settled down, I'm feeling more like myself again so I've been trying to get back into writing. I'm starting out small with some dumb fluffy head canons, so I may make a few tiny posts here and there. Also I'm starting to write out the next fic request! I promise I haven't forgotten 😅 many apologies for the wait, but life got in the way.

Love you all, take care!!!

Thanks to whoever edited this wiki article of Kaz Brekker

it’s hilarious

It’s DOOOOONE! It’s finally finished! Oh my gosh, what a journey this has been! I started concept on this last July (2020) and have been working in chunks via Instagram Lives to complete this sequel papercraft of the Six of Crows for over a year! I’m so excited to present Hook And Crook, inspired by a specific scene that happens in Crooked Kingdom. I’ve been stating this over and over again during the lives, but there were specific mirrors happening here between the two papercrafts that wholly define the dynamics of the characters and the two books.  

We talked about how the symbols in the facade of the Slat in Featherdark (Six of Crows papercraft) represented the strengths of each character (cane, knife, guns, bombs etc). The crow is standing proud and upright, above the city, to symbolize the upper-hand that the dregs had during SOC.

Now, the tables have turned in Hook And Crook. The symbols on the facade of the hotel show the character’s weaknesses (gloves, a red bird, gambling wheel, Dunyasha’s stars, paintbrush & laurels etc). The crow is defensively crouching with its hackles raised, the city above and oppressing - all representing the dregs having to turn and fight under dire circumstances. And bonus! When you put the two side-by-side, a little nod to a certain Ravkan symbol takes form! What a stupidly fun project this was! I’m so happy it’s finally finished and I thank you all for those who joined me in the lives to watch the process! (so sorry for the low quality on this; Featherdark is my most pilfered artwork for unsanctioned merch 💔)

5 times Inej sneaks into Kaz’s bed + 1 time she doesn’t

I.

Most of the time, Kaz does not doubt that buying out Inej’s indenture was a good investment—but damn it, she’s making him think twice about whether or not it was worth it tonight.

“Didn’t I tell you they were going to take a bigger move tonight? Didn’t I tell you to stay hidden?”

At least Inej is wise enough not to answer the questions he throws at her, sharper than the knives that adorn her body.

He’s currently digging around the cabinet near his wash basin for a second roll of linen bandages, his bad leg aching fiercely as he kneels on the wooden floor of the attic to rummage. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate this week with the Liddies pinching customers from the Crow Club—they’d been staging fights outside the door to scare off potential patrons, which only ever devolved into real fights with the Dregs’ bruisers and disrupted the players already at the tables. Now, they were bold enough to try to get the drop on his spider within Dregs territory.

Of course, he’d trained Inej well enough that they hadn’t fully succeeded, but still—their near hit had unleashed some kind of hot fury deep in his chest tonight. It was an irrational anger he could not fully account for except to think that he had warned Inej multiple times this week, had told her to remain on her guard tonight as she traversed the Barrel on his behalf.

And instead, she is sitting uncomfortably on the edge of his bed, wrapping the first roll of linen he’d thrown at her around her torso to cover the bleeding cut on her back, bearing Kaz’s verbal tirade with pursed lips and stony silence.

And that was another thing he’d already corrected her on a hundred times, wasn’t it?

“You were guarding your left arm, weren’t you?” he accuses, seething once more as he deduces how this fight must have unfolded. “Answer me,” he barks, and Inej finally eyes him directly. He notes the fiery glint in her eyes that warns him she won’t tolerate him commanding her like a watchdog more than once.

He doesn’t plan to try it a second time—but sourly, he thinks a watchdog would have been much easier to train than the Wraith.

“What would be the point? Clearly, you’ve already reached your conclusion.” Her tone isn’t quite as cutting as it normally would be when she and Kaz go toe-to-toe, her eyes blinking heavily with exhaustion. Some treacherous part of his mind is almost disappointed she doesn’t try to challenge him, but he quashes that thought almost immediately. Foolish.

…

Continue reading this one-shot here on ao3. 

it's a cruel summer (with you)

You and Donald Na get wrapped up in a summer romance. It doesn't end well.

F/M, Angst, Hurt no comfort

Inspired by the song 'Cruel Summer' by Taylor Swift

(and I’m drunk in the back of the car-)

You leaned into the man’s shoulder, cloth rubbing against your skin, your two bodies pressed against each other. You inhaled, and expensive cologne filled your nostrils, dampening your already dulled senses.

"But whyyyy?” You slurred, leaning into him even further. Your voice comes out whinier than usual, like that of a disobedient child, but you’re too drunk to care. The man next to you stays silent, and you steal a glance at him. His cold steely gaze is harsh in comparison to the soft fabric of his sweatshirt sleeve- lined with golden motifs and bought with an absurd amount of money no high schooler should have had access to. 

“Donald.”

Donald Na’s red eyes land on you for a second (you don’t know how to feel- elated that you caught his attention, or small, under his shrinking gaze, his silence a simple reminder that you aren’t worth his time. But, a smaller voice in your head whispered, He hasn’t pushed you away. And for you, that was enough.) before shifting back to the road. 

You follow his line of sight- red and green traffic lights and moving cars blurring into one under the droplets of rain beating down on the windows. To anyone outside in the pouring rain it might’ve seemed warm and cozy, but to you it was as cold as ever. You looked back at his face, his beautiful, angelic, face. Angelic, hah. Pretty, snake like red eyes that were hellbent on ignoring you, pale, flawless, undented skin, like you were looking at a marble statue. 

It was laughable how someone who looked like they could’ve been sculpted by God himself was capable of doing so much harm. (Some poetic part of you thought that your comparison of him to a marble statue was rather fitting- beautiful, yet cold and untouchable. You supposed it was the alcohol talking.)

It started back at the bar.

~

It was hot outside when you met him. The summer was in, and you were drinking your way through the sweltering heat in the bar. 

Donald was there sometimes, and he had always caught your eye. How could he not? Tall, pale, and tattooed, radiating an expensive yet untouchable aura, always watching, never taking a sip. It intrigued you, so much that one day you approached him. He seemed sort of amused by your arrival, and in a way it felt demeaning- like you were just some idiotic girl that he saw as entertainment. You pushed it away.

One thing about Donald Na, is that he did everything right. He was charming, bought you drinks and bantered with you, yet you knew that this man was a bad idea the moment you set eyes on him. You were drawn in anyways. It’s not built to last. That’s what you told yourself. It’s just a casual fling. You weren’t sure you believed yourself, as his snake-like eyes met your own (his captivating aura was even stronger up close), from your view next to him on the booth seat. 

He smiled at you (God, he was gorgeous) and you knew that your entire being was going to be consumed by this man, like he was a black hole and you were the astronaut who floated away too far from the space station. Only you were jumping in willingly. 

Perhaps that was a mistake, dedicating every fiber of your being to something you knew could only end in tragedy.

He started coming in more often, still never consuming a drop of alcohol. You asked him why once, and he smiled at you with that smirk of his- the one that said he was always in charge of the situation (the one that drove you crazy)- and said that it was ‘dirty’. The two of you talked for a bit at the bar, before you started meeting at other places. Late nights where you’d text him all of a sudden, asking him if he wanted to go to the park to ‘hang out’. Oh, please. It was a date, and both of you knew it. 

Other times he’d be the one calling you up, abruptly informing you that he’d reserved a table for two that night at some fancy restaurant with a complicated name that you had no idea how he could afford, telling you to clear your schedule. He’d bring you in, arm around your waist, walking like he owned the fucking place. Despite all the time the two of you spent hanging out, you didn’t know that much about him. 

He was from Yeo-il High apparently, but aside from that he was some sort of enigma to you, expertly dodging questions about his job and personal life, and especially his background, half truths rolling off his tongue as if he was used to twisting the situation to his advantage. That should have scared you off; a man with something to hide is not a man to be trusted. You knew that, and yet you ignored it. All the red flags that should have pushed you away drew you even closer to Donald Na.

You guessed it was just some dumb, self destructive part of you that wanted to know more, craved the feeling of having him open up to you when he was so on guard with everyone else, that screamed louder than the sensible part of your brain that told you that this could only end badly. So for a couple months as the two of you grew closer, you lived in a false reality, a dream where you were always aware that the alarm clock was going to come ringing eventually. You took a gamble; you made a bet.

~

It started back at the bar. 

Donald had to admit that when you first showed up, pretty face flushed from alcohol, he didn’t think much of you. He watched in amusement as you struck up a conversation with him, played along as you flirted with him, yet the more he talked to you, he couldn’t help but get the growing feeling that you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into. He was good at that, at reading people. He decided he wanted to see where this would go- talking to old men and delinquents all day was frustrating after all. He needed some normal human interaction too.

You were ordinary. And he meant that as a compliment. Frankly, Donald was bored of dealing with delinquents who thought they were tough shit until they got a taste of his fist, tired of the business meetings and stuffy suits. He had learned to savour the ordinary in his everyday life, knowing that it would fade away soon enough; sitting in his dark office, eating soft bread, watching the traffic below. 

He would listen as you talked about your life, about your parents, about drama at your prestigious all girls school, about your grades, just anything. It was so different from his dangerous, crime filled life. It was peaceful. Each moment he spent with you felt like he was pressing pause on his reality and jumping into another one, one where he wasn’t stressed out running a criminal empire, one where he could just spend time slowly talking with you under the dim lights of the bar.

But all good things had to come to an end. It was a cruel lesson that life taught Donald again and again, to the point where he got used to leaving and being left. He knew that this secret relationship couldn’t last forever- It wasn’t built to last. He had accepted it as a fact. One thing that Donald valued, even more than his criminal empire, even more than his own life, even more than you, was his reputation.

It was his reputation that kept him alive, that made sure that fuckers who would usually be trying to oppose him, couldn’t even look him in the eye. It was what let him lead the Union so flawlessly, and he knew that at the slightest slip up, the smallest mistake, all the scum that had cowered at his feet before would come running. Loved ones were seen as a liability in his world, as weaknesses to exploit. He wasn’t gonna risk all that he’d worked for, what he'd spent all these years building up just for a small crush, a summer fling.

He looked down at you, leaning against his body, his jacket over your bare shoulders. He would miss you when you were gone.

~

"We should stop meeting up." 

Donald’s icy tone broke the peaceful silence that hung over the table. You blinked, drunken mind taking a moment to process what he said. When his statement finally registered, you swivelled around to face him, grimacing when your head spun. Shit.

“What?” You put your hand to your head, rubbing at your temple; you must’ve misheard him. But there was no mistaking the way his light hearted voice turned hard, no mistaking the whiplash it gave you.  

“We should stop meeting up.” Donald Na always got straight to the point. Speaking frankly even when he was breaking your heart. 

You moved yourself off of his side, sitting up straight, as if his words had sobered you up.

“Why? What are you talking about?” You watched him- cold, red eyes and an indifferent expression. You felt your heart drop. He had to be fucking joking. Your life depended on it. 

The thrill of the chase was wearing off, and now it was time to face the consequences.

“You know what I mean. Let’s end this.” Donald didn’t look at you as he stood up. The last pieces of hope that you clung on to fully disintegrated into ash. You knew that face; the cold, distant one that he put on when he was annoyed. “You’re drunk. I’m getting a taxi.” 

You chased after him as he walked out of the bar, yanking on his sleeve with a manicured hand. 

“Wait- Tell me what I fucking did wrong. Don’t just leave, Goddamnit!” 

Donald sighed, and you knew whatever came next would be painful. Even if it was just the truth. You weren’t sure why you asked the question- perhaps it just slipped out due to intoxication and desperation, hoping to hear another answer rather than the one that you’ve already known since the start. 

A cab pulls up on the street before he can start. You get in, and he does too. 

Rain starts to pour as the cab door slams shut, and the driver steps on the gas, soft jazz music playing on the radio. Red, orange, and yellow leaves fell from the trees, your eyes following them as they hit the ground. Just like a movie scene. You wondered if there was a God out there. How cruel, if this was the fate that they had chosen for you. But then again, you did suppose you chose it yourself. 

Maybe it was unfair to blame everything on an omnipotent being you weren’t sure was even there. The calming music, and the thudding of the heavy rain on the windows made your eyelids heavy, but you couldn’t fall asleep- not like this.

“But whyy?” You cut through the heavy silence. Donald kept quiet, and the cab driver minded his business. Fuck. It felt like you were freezing inside the taxi. You wondered if the vehicle had heating, as you leaned into Donald’s shoulder. His sweater was warm. He however, was colder than ever, as he watched the road, like whatever was going on outside was so much more interesting than you. You took a moment to admire his face.

Pale skin, piercings and scarlet eyes. At least even in uncertainty one thing stayed the same.

“Donald.” 

He said nothing. 

“Goddamnit, you asshole. Don’t ignore me.” He turned to face you, and your heart leapt. 

“Goodnight.”

The cab came to a halt outside a large house. You’d been there before, marvelling at Donald's tall ceilings and designer furniture. 

“Wait-” You have got to be fucking kidding me.

“Get her home safe.” Donald cast you a glance before the door shut, and the car sped off. 

It felt like the universe was playing a big prank on you today. Like you were the galaxy’s equivalent of a little kid wearing a dunce hat in the back of the classroom and everyone else was just pointing at you and laughing. 

Hahahaha. You just got dumped, or whatever the term for what just happened for the strange relationship you and Donald Na shared was, and then stood up in the back of a taxi. Hilarious.

But you wouldn’t end things. Not like this, in the pouring rain in the backseat of a cab. The alcohol spurred you on, making you bolder than you usually would’ve been. You’ve already made so many bad decisions, what was one more?

“Stop the car.” The taxi driver cast a quick, incredulous look back. “Stop, now?”

“Stop, now.” 

The driver stared at you like you were mad, but you paid it no mind, pulling dollar notes out of your purse and handing it to him as he slammed on the brakes. 

“Thank you.” 

You jumped out of the car and into the raging storm. The water hit your bare shoulders, but you felt numb to the cold, your mind focused on only one thing. Your head was throbbing, but you were sober enough to walk straight.

 That would be enough for you, as you ran towards Donald's home, pressing the doorbell repeatedly. The storm around you didn’t stop, beating into you persistently, soaking you, your minidress, and anything you had on underneath. Water pooled around your feet, and you knew that the heels you had on would be ruined by the end of the night. 

Finally, the door cracked open, and streaks of light broke the inky darkness that you stood in. Donald stood there too, looking down at you with those vermillion eyes. His eyes widened slightly, though the rest of his face remained levelled, like he was surprised you were there but decided to mask it with apathy.

“Go home. You’re going to get sick.” His tone sounded indifferent, but you could pick up on hints of? exhaustion? exasperation? regret? 

If you regret it so much, take me back, you asshole.

“Tell me why.” Your voice came out hoarse, and you cleared your throat. You tried your best to stay still under his stare, under his overwhelming presence.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips grew taut, before finally, he broke eye contact and let out a sigh. 

Exasperation, you were right. 

You knew you were probably quite a pathetic sight; shivering and soaked to the bone. You hoped your makeup wasn’t running. 

“There are some things I can’t tell you. On my part, I’m sorry things had to end this way.” 

“But let’s be honest. We both knew that this wouldn’t go well, so let’s not pretend that you didn’t know this would happen.” 

He moved to close the door, and the pounding of the rain seemed to hit harder than usual. “Good night, and I mean it this time.”

For a second there it was as if you saw the grains of sand flowing down the invisible hourglass of your relationship, and you knew you had to do something- you didn’t know what, but something. 

“Wait! Please!” 

Donald paused. You saw his face through the crack of his front door. He looked tentative, like he was expecting you to say something. To try to change his mind.

So you did.

“I love you!”

You felt instantaneous regret as the words left your mouth.

You watched Donald for the hundredth time. He didn't scoff, or reply emotionlessly like you expected. What came next was much worst.

He laughed. You’ve heard Donald laugh before- usually just a soft chuckle in response to a joke you made. This was a hollow, humorless laugh that chilled you to the bone.

You’d practically studied Donald’s face, every soft curve and every sharp angle had been practically memorised by you, carved into your mind.

But this wasn’t something you’ve seen before. A devilish smile. How ironic; you’d compared him to an angel just moments before. Well, the devil came in many forms. Maybe Donald Na was one of them. You unconsciously took a step back. 

He caught his breath, and his laughter ceased.

“No, you don’t.”

The door slammed shut.

~

Pure despair.

It had been a while since you had last felt it. 

Truth is, you didn’t cry easy. When you got sad, you got moody. And when you got moody, you got angry, lashing out and sulking until you cooled down as a way to cope with the pain. Now, there was none of that. No one to blame but yourself.

The tears did not come out in a rush; it built up slowly in the wells of your eyes before cascading down your face like a dam had been broken, getting heavier and heavier until you were fully sobbing. You let out a raw, anguished cry, like a banshee in the night.

You had prepared yourself for this a million times, waited for this moment to come, but you never expected it to hurt like this. 

At that moment, you wished you were at home, in your comfiest pyjamas, taking in the warmth of your blanket. But you were crying on the front step of some man’s house, makeup and tears streaming down your face, half frozen to death. You should have brought your jacket along. 

Maybe this wouldn’t have happened had you thought this through.

Donald was right (of course he was). You did know that this was going to happen. You knew that this was the reality that was written for the two of you, carved in stone by the hand of whatever divine being was up there. And you didn’t love him. You just blurted it out of desperation to make him stay. 

After all, it was impossible to love somebody you didn’t know. 

Maybe you could have loved him, if this relationship wasn’t doomed from start to end. 

Sure, Donald could be cruel. But you were too, to want more than he had to give. You knew there was nothing more to it than a summer fling, and yet you threw yourself into it headfirst hoping that there could be something more. Well, there wasn’t. 

One part of you wondered what would have happened if you listened to your Goddamn brain and stayed away from him. Then you’d just be two strangers in a bar, with you constantly looking over at him in curiosity and him pretending not to notice your glances before finally failing to show up one day. Two planets orbiting each other, but never touching. 

(The reckless part of you, the one that got you into this mess, thought that it would’ve tortured you more if you had never approached Donald. How you would’ve stayed up at night, thinking about what it could’ve been.) 

You laughed in spite of yourself. You were gonna get yourself killed one day.

Numbly, you pushed yourself off of Donald’s doorstep, standing up wobbly, the tears blurring your vision. The cold rain had sobered you up, and your mind was clear. It was time to pull yourself together. You sent a glance back at Donald’s house. All of his lights were off except for one. You wondered if he had heard you cry. You wondered if he cared.  You guessed that you were of value to him, just not as much as whatever he was hiding from you. Not that it mattered anymore.

You knew you’d get over it eventually. Time heals all wounds, after all- like the grains of sand running over a jagged rock in a river until it became a smooth pebble, but for now, you would mourn. 

You looked around. The neighbourhood was a nice one, large houses lining the empty streets, lighted by rows of lamp posts. The wind blew colder, and both you and the tree skeletons shivered. The air had grew colder over the past few days, signalling the end of a long summer, and the start of autumn. The start of a new beginning. 

This time, you didn’t look back as you walked away.

one thing i really like about weak hero's character design is that they let giju have stereotypically feminine traits like manicured nails and makeup and never ridicule him for it. whenever i see those traits on a man in another webtoon (if i even see it at all) they're usually the perverted gay man stereotype

larry the cat slander will not be tolerated

“Larry is bad at catching mice so he’s bad at his job”

You FOOLS

His official duties according to www.gov.uk, the official website of the UK government, are “greeting guests to the house, inspecting security defences and testing antique furniture for napping quality” and “contemplating a solution to the mouse occupancy of the house” which he says “is still ‘in tactical planning stage’.”

He’s doing his job JUST FINE

BEST accounts to follow as a writer

It's been a long time since my last visit here on Tumblr, right? So, as a comeback and since you loved my masterpost of websites for writers, I am bringing you my favorite Tumblr blogs to follow if you're a writer and are interested in finding lots of inspo on your timeline, as well as prompts, tips, and useful resources. Shall we start?

PROMPTS:

@givethispromptatry

@dailystoryprompts

@here-haveaprompt

@dark-fiction-and-angst

@youneedsomeprompts

@deity-prompts

@whygodohgodwhy

@writinghoursopen

@fluffyomlette

@promptsforthestrugglingauthor

@novelbear

@gfuckign

@ghostly-prompts

WORLD BUILDING INSPO / PROMPTS:

@worldbuildingprompts

@locationbuildingprompts

@wbqotd

@wildworldwritingprompts

@worldbuilding-question

@thealpha-chronicles

@happyheidi

@enchantedengland

@ancientsstudies

@greeksblog

OC PROMPTS:

@yourocdoeswhat

@questionsforyourocs

@oc-question

@oc-dev

@characterization-queries

@oc-factoids

@tag-that-oc

@some-oc-questions

GENERAL WRITING ADVICE:

not all of the following accounts post things but they reblog useful info

@writing-with-olive

@tstrangeauthor

@everythingwritingg

@writerthreads

@heywriters

@thewritersphere

@writelively

PS: If you think your account fits any of these categories, feel free to comment! Someone will check it out!!! :D

Did they just have their first couple fight?

Don't be so cold Donald go after him☹☹

this is so compelling and heartbreaking and important and i wanted to share it. this is the reality of getting an abortion even with roe v wade in place and it's about to get worse.

Collective amnesia makes us feel as if there are no bi people in history. That is, until we see that bi people have been there all along, they’ve just been mislabeled or left out of the narrative. Bisexuality is the sexual and/or romantic attraction to multiple genders. Nestled within the term bisexual are other labels, including pansexual, omnisexual, and polysexual. Which term people use is almost entirely down to preference, although sometimes the choice is driven by an ahistorical misconception that the bi in bisexual reinforces a gender binary and excludes trans and nonbinary people.

One reason why we might “forget” bisexuals is because those who are attracted to people of multiple genders rarely call themselves bi. Historically, there have been a number of reasons for this, including wanting to avoid discrimination and stigma. There have long been toxic misconceptions of bisexual people as promiscuous and unfaithful, in a confused state of sexual transition or experimentation, lying about their attractions for attention or to attract men (particularly bi women), or simply adhering to some sort of trend (particularly young people).

Being bi could also get you kicked out of your local queer space. Bisexuality introduces nuance, which has always made it easier to discard than accommodate it. In tough times, when queer people were fighting for their lives and for basic legal protections, some gay rights groups strategically rejected bisexual people. For example, in the 1970s there were instances where the Gay Liberation Front, a queer-rights group, treated bisexual people as effectively straight, and thus associated them with regressive politics and edged them out of the organization.

But historians have never let a lack of self-labeling prevent them from trying to find queer people in history. People also shied away from terms like gay or lesbian, and yet we can find many books on their history. Still, it was only when I went back to university for a master’s in queer history that I realized that the absence of bisexuality in most versions of LGBTQ+ history wasn’t because there were no bi people in the past. Rather, that lack of knowledge is the result of an overcompensation for compulsory heterosexuality, which has meant that most people with homosexual desires in the U.S. were forced to live lives that involved heterosexual sex and relationships.

In the search for queer lives in the past, one way that academics have dealt with this is to assume that people who had any kind of same-sex desires or sex must have been gay or lesbian, even if they were also in heterosexual relationships. Partly because of this, the term bisexual is often entirely absent from historians’ writings. By doing so, we are systematically mislabeling people who were attracted to multiple genders, erasing bi history. When we untether bisexual people from their own past, we obscure the ways in which bisexuality is a cornerstone of the human experience.

Here are some important people in bi history you should know:

The bisexuality researchers you need to know

One of the earliest researchers to legitimize the study of bisexual people was Havelock Ellis (1859-1939). Ellis was based in the U.K., and in the 1927 edition of his book Sexual Inversion, he describes many case studies of bisexual people. He includes some negative stereotypes, but also some decidedly positive ones. For example, he wrote that bi women made “great religious and moral leaders.” It is these kinds of positive statements that led to the first edition of his book being ruled “obscene” in an English court because he dared to write about queer lives without condemning them. It took him multiple attempts to get the book published.

Probably the most famous sex researcher of all time was Alfred Kinsey (1894-1956). He was a biologist at Indiana University who introduced nuance into the discussion of sexuality. His Kinsey Scale allows us to categorize sexuality as a number between 0 and 6, from exclusively heterosexual to exclusively homosexual. In his famous mid-20th century studies, he shocked the world when he found that a huge number of people (he often stated “a quarter to half”) had homosexual and heterosexual desires. He also openly criticized other researchers who assumed that people could only be either gay or straight, and spoke of the “endless intergradations” that captured the reality of people’s sexualities.

Following in Kinsey’s footsteps, Fritz Klein (1932-2006) was a sex researcher and psychiatrist who published the book, The Bisexual Option, in 1978. He was a bisexual man himself, and he started a group for bisexual men to help them feel secure in their own sexuality; that practice grew into affirmative therapy that would help many people better understand their own sexual behaviors and identity. The Klein Sexual Orientation Grid is an expanded version of the Kinsey Scale. Klein also set up the Journal of Bisexuality and the American Institute of Bisexuality, which both continue to further bi research today. These organizations have been fundamental in giving a home to research and writing on bisexuality.

Bi activists who fought for queer rights

There have also been a number of tireless activists who have fought for queer and bisexual rights, including Brenda Howard (1946-2005). Howard is sometimes referred to as the “mother of pride” because after the Stonewall uprising, she played a major role in organizing the first marches of LGBT+ people, which laid the foundations for global Pride marches.

Another activist who worked in some of the same groups as Howard, and continues their work today, is Lani Ka’ahumanu (born in 1943). Ka’ahumanu has been a leader of the bisexual rights movement in the U.S. since 1980. She founded a number of groups that were specifically for bisexual people, which was particularly important given the shaky history between bi people and gay and lesbian communities. Ka’ahumanu created safe political spaces where bi people didn’t need to justify their sexuality or their inclusion. To this effect, in 1983, she co-founded BiPOL, one of the first bisexual political action groups in the country; she later co-coordinated the San Francisco Bay Area Bisexual Network. Ka’ahumanu is also a major reason why the B is included in LGBT, because of her campaigning in the leadup to the 1993 March on Washington.

Other people who are still fighting for bi visibility and protections today include activist Robyn Ochs, who wrote the most widely cited definition of bisexuality; New York Times columnist Charles Blow, who fights for bi visibility including in the Black community; and Kyrsten Sinema, who was the first openly bisexual person elected to Congress in 2012.

The main thing that people get wrong about the history of bisexuality is assuming that there is none. As more people embrace bisexual identities, I expect there will be a new thirst for knowledge, followed by a quenching wave of bisexual stories uncovered from the archives of history.

By uncovering previously untold accounts, and re-telling the stories of people previously too eagerly labeled gay and lesbian, bisexual people will finally be able to remember some of the pieces of their own history.

Dr. Julia Shaw is a criminal psychologist at University College London and part of Queer Politics at Princeton University which works for LGBT+ equality, democracy, and civil rights. She is actively involved in bisexual research and is the founder of the international Bisexual Research Group. Shaw’s latest book, Bi: The Hidden Culture, History, and Science of Bisexuality, is set to be released on June 28.

americans, in dire times like this, please learn from the mistakes of poland.

in 2020, the constitutional tribunal of poland (similar to the supreme court) ruled that abortion in the case of fetal abnormalities is unconstitutional, effectively banning 98% of legal abortions in our country. poland already had the strictest laws in europe (save for malta), where abortion was only allowed in the case of rape/incest, fetal abnormalities or risk to mother’s life. this caused probably the biggest protests since 1989. even tiny, conservative towns marched in defense of abortion rights. at one point there was an estimated one hundred thousand people in warsaw protesting. police was beating people up on the streets, they broke a teenage girls’ hand. fascist nationalists used tear gas on people. this lasted for WEEKS.

back then it felt like maybe we are finally witnessing some change we hoped for for years, but it all fell apart. the leaders of this protest were generic liberals who were allied with the neoliberal center-right opposition and were riding off the wave of anti-government sentiments. soon it was became less about reproductive health and more about how we need to put the opposition back in power. mind you, the opposition and its supporters were largely for keeping this bogus “compromise” and went as far as silence anyone who wanted full liberalization as “too radical”. anything stronger than peaceful marches was discouraged as well - even the very famous chant “wypierdalać” (”fuck off”) was often considered too far.

soon these protests were completely changed into anti-government protests and while it was good to hate the ruling party, but it was conveniently used as a tool of the neoliberal center-right opposition. several months later they put that ban into place. the wave was already dying. there were some protests but all people did was yell in the streets for a bit and go home, because it was ~wrong~ to destroy property and say naughty words. soon a 30 year old woman died because she was denied abortion. doctors would not risk aborting her deformed fetus even if it was risking her life, even if it was technically legal - they were scared of going to jail on the basis of aborting a fetus with abnormalities. there were very little protests after that, even though we should have burned down the entire country for her. death of savita halappanavar, a very similar case, eventually caused the change of abortion law in ireland. in poland nothing happened after izabela died. on the anniversary of the protests, barely anyone attended. just yesterday a project of putting a 12 week abortion law in place was rejected.

all i’m saying, this is very very similar to the situation in america right now. democrats will try to tell you that they have their hands tied, that they can’t do anything, that you just have to vote harder. they will make roe vs wade about republicans vs democrats, about their petty struggle for power, while pregnant people will be dying in horrific suffering. they are liars. all they care about is staying in power. they hold every branch of the government but did nothing to codify roe vs wade. they are not your friends. do not let them do what polish opposition did here. don’t rely on them. don’t stop until they put roe vs wade back and codify it. destroy shit. make those supreme court cunts and other fuckers afraid.

"Imagine being mad that babies will live"

For the person in poverty who is now in a full year worth of debt for an uncomplicated birth

For the person forced to carry a nonviable fetus to term

For the sexual assault survivor who must nurture a reminder of that violence

For the person who faces lifelong disability due to the harm this pregnancy caused

For the medically unstable person who is forced to risk everything

For the teen who is forced to drop out of school

For the trans person who can't look at themselves

For the person who becomes an outlaw for seeking abortion in another state

For the unwanted child in an abusive home

For one more child placed into the already overrun foster system

For the child born to a homeless parent

For the child of color forced into an increasingly dangerous world

For the pregnancy that was simply unwanted and poorly timed

This isn't life

As always, Danny Devito said it best.

"Supreme court my ass"

help a trans woman get surgery maybe?

hey its pride month and idk about yall but I Could Use Some Life Altering Top Surgery!!!! i don’t think i’ll be able to raise the roughly 8,000 usd minimum needed for surgery directly off donations but every dollar counts! i got a temp job and was able to afford rent and bills this month, so i can at least put the donations into savings this summer and add to it til this job is over. idk. i’m tired of covering my mirrors ‘cause i don’t like looking at myself. i’ve got 400$ in savings to start my Boob Fund and if you want to help, i have donation links below! paypal.me/treesinspace / cash.me/$junabugs (p.s. send paypal donations as GIFT FOR FRIENDS/FAMILY, not PURCHASE, or paypal will think i’m a merchant and ask for tracking info)

Juneteenth is coming up so please help a black queer person get some groceries. I only have $0.87 to my name right now and no food in my fridge!! Please help me!!!

Please boost this post and any donations would be appreciated!!!

💰: $emiddlebrooks

Pay🤞🏾: paypal.me/emiddle37

walking into a church and i turn all the crosses upside down so that my vampire lover can come in with me and then we play the organ together

Jake's friend group + thoughts

(Okay so just to clarify I don't actually care about the morality of fictional characters because they're, well, fictional. I just wrote this because I don't really see anybody else talking about them)

Usually when I see people talk about the Daehyeon boys it's usually about how they're similar to Eunjang and that if it wasn't for the Union, Jake's crew would get along with Eunjang so well etc etc.

But I don't really believe that Eunjang and Jake's crew could be friends (hang out?? tolerate each other, maybe, but not friends) with all their differences. It's pretty obvious that SEOPASS made them similar on purpose so I'm not gonna act like that's some groundbreaking discovery I made lmao, but there are some things that make me think that the two groups are actually pretty different.

For one, when Gray and his friends are leaving to go find Big Ben after fighting Dean and the others, he tells the guys from Daehyeon that Ben wouldn't gang up on Jake with them, and that Ben wasn't "Some wannabe thug like you guys."

(Pop off Gray)

But yeah, Jake and his gang can act like they're the chill, strong, laid back good guys, but that's all it is. An act. I mean, Dean and Eunchan literally pick fights with people for no reason, and are assholes a lot of the time.

Jake doesn't start fights for no reason but he never stops his friends from doing so, and though I've never seen this happen in canon before, I can a 100% imagine him being excited when that happens so that he can get into fights for a 'justifyable' reason. (This reminds me of something @rare-and-beautiful-things in a post before about Jake beating people up for his friends in their strong abd kind Union member post)

Plus the dynamics in their group are actually pretty different. Eunchan and Dean immediately underestimate their opponents (and in a way, Jake does too, but that's more understandable since he IS the number two in the Union), making a bunch of derogratory comments about the people they're fighting.

I've never seen anybody in Eunjang do that (besides Teddy but he's a special case💀) even though most of them are unbelievably strong they always approach their opponent with caution and never look down on them.

Also,, one thing I've noticed is that Dean and Eunchan have the tendency not only to look down on their opponents, but their friends as well. Okay that sounds bad so let me explain more😭😭

I feel like Eunchan and Dean unconciously rank people? (like most people in the Union do, and I guess it kind of comes along with being a thug) and don't get me wrong, I think they geniunely think of Timothy as a friend and care for him, but when you're in the Union you tend to view people who can't fight as someone less deserving of your respect, whether you do it consciously or not.

An example of this is when Gray is about to fight Dean, Eugene warns Gray about Dean's strength, Gray pats him on the shoulder and tells him not to worry.

But when Timothy does the same to Dean, Dean tells Timothy that he "didn't give a crap about his data", and I don't think he would have responded the same way if someone like Jake (or someone he viewed as 'more powerful' than him) told him to be cautious.

And let's be honest, you'd only talk to somebody that way if you didn't respect them.

It's pretty obvious that Eunchan does the same thing too. When Eugene and Timothy start fighting, Eunchan looks over at them and says, "What a bunch of losers."

I literally did a double take at that one because 1. Calling your friend (who's trying to help you) a loser? 2. It confirms what I thought about the other guys looking down on Tim for not being able to fight. They hang out with him and love him, sure, but subconsiously to them, anybody who cannot fight is a rank below them: a loser.

(I'm pretty sure they aren't aware of this since their friendship does seem pretty geniune. It's probably from the inflated ego that comes along with being a thug.)

The Eunjang boys have never once looked down on Eugene for not being able to defend themselves and always treated him as an equal, so that's another difference.

(Also another thing that's pretty telling is Eunchan's style of fighting- he hits Eugene in the face even though Eugene was practically defenseless and not attacking him. He also got Timothy to hold Rowan down so he could beat him up which is dirty asf and also just proves that they aren't really the 'cool strong heroes' they think they are.)

Anyways thanks for reading all this rambling and like I said at the start (i'll just repeat it because some people can't read and i don't want any hate) i don't actually care about whether fictional characters are good or bad because if I did I wouldn't be reading action webtoons (or having Wolf Keum as a fav) I just wanted to talk about this.

Interested in hearing yalls thoughts</3

trying so hard to find a good action webtoon that doesnt sexualise its minor characters, has well written female characters and doesnt have a shitty romance plot that they shoved in even though it doesn't make sense

HAPPY 10th ANNIVERSARY TO GRAVITY FALLS!

(click to see larger)

Back in Oct. 2018, my project for inktober was at least one pic from every episode.  Because of the pace, there were restrictions; I did each on a post-it note, limited coloring, and chose things that would fit the square format and that I could get done in time (between working full-time and owl-banding most nights).  I always sort of wanted to redo a bunch of those; but really, what occasion would merit putting in THAT much time and effort for a project of that size?

Well, how about for the 10th anniversary of the premiere of Gravity Falls?

I’m not saying this was a *smart* project to tackle, but I thought it might be “easier” because I had first drafts of most of the pieces; I just wanted to redo them so they’d look better, with 4 more years of practice under my belt and a new move to digital art.  (Narrator: it was not really easier.)  Some I redid completely, or did new to create the full sets above.  Basically, once I’d hit on this idea, and decided to link it to the refrain of “How Far We’ve Come”, I was committed; there was no way I was going to *not* try to do it.

I know that “How Far We’ve Come” gets fanvidded for eight billion different shows.  But, the first time I heard the song was in one of the first Gravity Falls fanvids I ever watched (link  below), so it will always be a GF song for me.

Gravity Falls has meant a lot to me for the past 6 years that I’ve been active in the fandom.  I have no doubt it will always have a big place in my heart. I’m definitely not done with things I’d like to do for it.  I’m so glad to see people coming together to celebrate this big anniversary! 

ALSO: needless to say, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Stan and Ford!

“How Far We’ve Come” by @findmeinthealps2 / @findmeinthealps

Using tumblr is like living in a low class apartment building. You just get used to the landlord not fixing things, and then someone new moves in and you're helpfully like "oh yeah don't drink the tap water, it's got stuff in it that makes you sick" and then your neighbor you've had forever goes "oh they took the stuff out actually" and you're like "what? when was this?"

"like two years ago"

"you mean i could've been drinking the tap water all this time?"

"yeah. they gave us individual mailboxes too finally, you don't have to dig through the communal bin anymore"

"are you for real right now?? i just redirected my mail, i didnt know"

and the new tennant is like "why did you guys even live here if it was so bad"

"we like it."

"I kinda miss the communal mail bin tho"

If Trump goes to prison during pride month I will literally never stop laughing like to charge reblog to cast give me all of your evil thoughts and prayers for this freak to get his first ever consequence.

If you think these "anti drag" pushes aren't going to be used against trans people for just existing in public, you really really need to read up on the vice laws which caused Stonewall.

If you think Stonewall was only trans women and transmascs/butches/trans men weren't arrested during the leadup to the riot, you need to read up on who was there, who was arrested, and why.

They are coming for all of us. Your supposed respectability will not save you. We will survive this if we stick together, and only if.

stopped reading htf in february and now suddenly 244 has a girlfriend??

Logs in

Sees 244’s “gf”

Logs out

so this is what stephen ahn saw😊😊

the idea that it’s ‘creepy’ to interact with things posted a long time ago is so terrible for artists and contributes to the pressure to be constantly creating new work, at an unhealthy and unsustainable rate. I hate it so much.

in case it hasn’t been clear, this blog is firmly and unwaveringly pro-choice.

HC about

Enemies to lovers with the union guys 😭🙏

(You can do other characters in Weak hero, up to ya)

hiii! I'm so sorry I'm answering so late and, well, so little. but i felt like writing something and had a bit of time to do it for the first time in a while, so... yknow, i thought a little something is better than nothing, lol. ahhh and i kind of thought these asks fit really well together, so here we are i guess :) also I'm not sure if it can be described as enemies to lovers, cuz it's a very slowburn trope, so it's more like enemies to... something? I'd love to do more characters sometime, but i cannot imagine when lol. ah and thank you so much for sending an ask with one of my favourite tropes! wishing all of you a nice day 💙💙💙

Enemies to lovers

(Dongha Baek, Wolf Keum)

Dongha Baek

it doesn't start with outright enemies, not really. dongha hears of you first and cannot help but imagine how fun it would be to put you in your place, to see that calm and collected look vanish from your face, changing to anguish, humiliation, fear.

you're a rich kid. you don't need to flaunt it around for him to notice your clothes, casually expensive, either famous brands or handmade eco stuff, to notice your calm demeanor, the nicest perfume he ever got to inhale, the easy way you pay for shit - not looking at the price tag, never haggling, never getting off your high horse.

he hates people like you. what the fuck are you even doing in that got forsaken gang of losers? that's what he'd asked, if he didn't know for sure. you're simply enjoying playing with other people, flaunting your money around, looking down on shitheads ready to do anything to acquire the kind of power you were blessed with from birth.

how he'd love to remind you of your place. sure, you're rich, but he knows from experience how weak rich people truly are. how easily they break, how easily they start trying to buy you, to buy their dignity back with their money. perhaps he should let himself be bought this time, after he gets his fun. then he can play with you again later.

your gang was at the unions throat for a while now, and the fact that you still weren't destroyed was telling. it was telling one thing to most people, but the thing it was telling to dongha baek was: you sorely need to be reminded of your place.

it started like many gang fights do. a bit of shit talking, hands in their pockets, eyes gleaming with malice and mischief. you were in this business for enough time to know where it was going, and while dongha was talking you were silently getting ready.

his first swing was expected, so was the second. he wasn't entirely easy to read, but there was something else - some recklessness, wildness to his moves that set you on edge. he also laughed - all the time. startled laughter when you almost got him, raspy chuckle when you did get him, high pitched ringing laughter when it was you groaning in pain and not him. he was constantly mocking at first, the neverending shit talk, but as the fight continued, there were less and less words.

you were weird. there was something about your eyes, something about your bloody smile that didn't add up with everything he's seen of you till now. there was some hunger in you, some spite buried deep behind your polite smile. some genuine, impossible to fake strength. power.

there wasn't a clear winner that day, and you remember talking shit to each other lying on cold concrete with no strength to get up. you think it was fun and then you think you must've hit your head.

you sure start to see each other more often after that. in the streets, when you're going around for business and when you're resting. he's always trying to get you angry, to start some shit, and sometimes you deflect with polite phrases hiding a biting insult under the surface, sometimes you end up fighting it out.

it's stupid. you feel stupid every time you meet him, like some part of your brain - the reasonable, calm, smart part - shuts off when you see his shit eating grin. you're letting yourself get angry. you're letting yourself get reckless.

you should stop.

you seek him out yourself, ready to put an end to this nonsense. you start it this time, for the first time in forever. he's laughing and talking shit again, and you let it get under your skin despite yourself.

you scream for the first time in forever. it's an ungodly, impolite, weird, embarrassing sound. it's loud and wild. you're screaming and kicking and biting like an animal, because you're furious at that bastard, that pathetic fiend, and you are - you'd let him get under your skin - and you are - in love.

you think it, and it's ringing so terribly final in your head you start laughing.

dongha finally understands, and he laughs with you.

Wolf Keum

you're everything wolf has ever hated. a weak loser acting tough until it's time to get behind your words, to prove yourself. a small time criminal, freelancer on the dark side, kissing Donald's ass right after sweet-talking the union's enemies into a nice deal. two-faced liar and a coward.

wolf cannot help himself when he sees you. how can you act so confident, how can you run your fucking mouth so smoothly when you know - by experience - how it feels to be completely broken down?

by him, nonetheless.

you were (supposed to be) just another one of wolf's many victims. just another one lying before him, all bloody and broken, bloody mouth, broken breath, broken bones for sure, red and beneath the red - yellow and rose blooming into majestic purple. swollen face, swollen hands.

you were - all broken. but you were not - just another one.

you never stopped. you never let what was done to you stop you, you never even truly changed your tactics. you knew no shame. it was so disgusting, so infuriating to wolf that at some point it started to be fun.

every time he needed to do business with you he couldn't pass the chance to play. to remind you: you are weak. worthless. he could tear you up right then and there, and there'd be nothing you could do to stop him.

sometimes it was mild humiliation. some talking down, "remember what fun we had together?", "wanna repeat?", spit on your shoulder, sometimes on your face. other times he's more hands on: grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, snarling in your face, "perhaps i should bite your lips off. would be hard lying without them". and then there are times when he makes you hold his glasses and - "come on. stare at me like you did just now. don't you dare looking away from me, you dipshit" - puts his hand on your throat and squeezes.

you deal with a lot of assholes. it's basically the job description. but none of those other assholes are wolf keum. you've learned to be cold and hard and perfectly smooth like a pebble in the river. do not give a reaction. do not stop smiling. do not take sides. do not go down. do not - the list goes on. you have to be perfect. you have to survive.

wolf never fails to remind you how far from perfect you actually are.

you do not give him any reaction you are able to mask or subdue. it's never anything more than the slightest shiver, the smallest tick - but that's enough. wolf looks intently, and he sees. he grins like a mad dog that needs to be put down.

you do not go after him yourself. you're not that stupid, or brave, or self-assured. no, you do what you do best - you talk to people, you make deals, you exchange one favour for another, until it all falls into place.

you make other people go after him. the strongest guys you were able to talk into it from all over Seoul. all of it, except for the yeongdeungpo. they go, and you wait anxious and excited for the results. when there's finally a phonecall, you take it immediately.

then you hear his voice. it's gruff and low. it says "stay where you are. we'll meet soon enough".

he sends you the photos before coming, before you're able to decide what to do. the photos are shaky and bloody and your stomach turns when you look at them.

and then comes wolf. he's bloody and beaten too, perhaps even more than the guys on the photos, but you know him and he knows you know him: he's a fucking zombie, and he won't let his current condition stop him.

he also knows you. he knows that slightest shiver, that smallest tick. he knows what to expect, he readies himself for your blabbering, for your fucking lies - but you don't open your mouth. not this time.

you ready your fists, and wolf chokes on his laughter. he seems excited, indignant, startled. tired. he's beaten down - but you know that if he grabs you it will be the end. if the punch goes through - it will hurt. so you don't let him grab you or hit you for as long as you can. you find a wire and wrap it around his throat, ready to kill. he grabs you then. he punches you, and it seems you forgot how much it could hurt. it's terrible. you do not let go of the wire though, and the punches become rarer and weaker and then they stop.

wolf doesn't talk to you after that. he lets his minions do his business, and you don't see him for weeks. until suddenly you do.

you prepare for the worst, but he doesn't make a move aside from dragging a cig to and from his lips, inhaling and exhaling the smoke. watching you watching him. there's something new in his eyes - something different from the familiar sick amusement and rage and boredom. something softer, gentler - not like plush or clouds, but like a green sprout only starting to grow, easy to destroy, to kill.

you take a step in his direction, then another one, and another, until you're standing side by side. close. too close. when wolf offers you a cigarette, you take it before you think better. the cigarette is way too strong and bitter, and yet somehow you do not mind.

The duality of ex-yakuza cooking youtubers