King Charles and his ⦠consort (abridged version)

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King Charles and his ⦠consort (abridged version)

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One reason I get so annoyed when people dismiss "fandom bullshit" as nothing more than silly drama not worth discussing, is that adults in fandom have been talking for years about the rise of reactionary teenagers trying to enforce purity culture on everyone around them.
The mainstream finally clued into the problem and are so confused as to why it's happening, and meanwhile, fandom archivists saw the warning signs a decade ago.
It's not a problem unique to fandom, but it's intensely visible in fandom spaces, but people discussing the issue always get shouted down as "cringey fandom weirdos and their cringey fandom drama."
It reminds me very, very much of being a Norse pagan ten years ago, desperately trying to warn my non-pagan friends that, hey, Asatru groups are actively using neopaganism as a fascist recruitment and brainwashing tactic. Nobody outside of pagan spaces wanted to listen, and then "all of a sudden" there's a viking larper in the January 6th coup attempt, and people are confused why so many neo-nazis like Odin so much.
Similarly, furry community spaces kept trying to raise awareness of nazi furs, only to get shut down as "weirdo furry drama mongers." It also happened in the My Little Pony fandom--I was there. I REMEMBER trying to tell people, hey, there's some nasty shit happening beneath the surface, it's not just "weird basement dwellers," it's more than that. But it was the hot fun thing to shit all over My Little Pony fans as "cringe" across the board instead of listening to the actual issues at hand from fans who were trying to tackle the problem.
You gotta listen to subcultures telling you that there's a problem, before the problem gets too big to deal with. You gotta listen when people are saying, hey, this is a really big issue in this space, and if it becomes bigger, it's going to be a problem for everyone.
People outside fandom paint all fandom issues as "wank" and "drama," even when the issue is significantly larger than that and is worth talking about. Harassment, bullying, bigotry, neo-puritanism? That's way fuckin' bigger than "fandom wank," and it's incredibly ignorant to dismiss these issues as "online drama." You don't have to personally get involved in the topic, but stop dismissing it as "not worth talking about."
the moon is a lesbian and she hates terfs
the moon told me personally that she thinks youāre obnoxious and hopes you never get a girlfriend
I have a theory that the moon IS a trans woman cause sheās always associated with feminine things but when we saw the craters that look like a face we called it āThe Man In The Moonā. Sheās a woman with a face that people may perceive as male. Sheās a beautiful trans woman
the moon is a beautiful trans woman who hates terfs and shows her face every night to remind other trans women they are beautiful and strong and loved and important and wonderful and that terfs and their opinions dont matter
I wanna add to this if itās ok?? In Hindu mythology, Chandra, the moon, was originally thought of as a male deity. However, as time went on, symbolism involving the moon and the nameĀ āChandraā itself became identified with femininity, with beautiful girls being described as having āmoon-like faces,ā with their dark, long hair reminding lovers of the midnight sky, and names likeĀ āNilaaā (āmoonā in Tamil) and āInduā (in Sanskrit) are now pretty much now completely girl names!Ā
AlsO Chandra is married to 27 wives, who are all stars. The moon is a trans lesbian and is gay for all the stars in the sky.Ā
Reblog if youāre gay for the trans lesbian poly moon who supports all woman.
Red Kryptonite vs. Kara Zor El
āThe next time you are afraid to speak, ask: Whatās the worst that will happen? Then push yourself a little further than you dare. Once you start to speak, people will yell at you. They will interrupt you, put you down and suggest itās personal. And the world wonāt end. And the speaking will get easier and easier. And you will find you have fallen in love with your own vision, which you may never have realized you had. And you will lose some friends and lovers, and realize you donāt miss them. And new ones will find you and cherish you. And you will still flirt and paint your nails, dress up and party. And at last youāll know with surpassing certainty that only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth. And that is not speaking.ā
ā AUDRE LORDE

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I wonder what it says about me that a lot of my comfort shows are violent and bloody and generally grim
On the topic of humans being everyoneās favorite Intergalactic versions Ā of Gonzo the Great: Come on you guys, Iāve seen all the hilarious additions to myĀ āhumans are the friendly onesā post. Weāre basically Steve Irwin meets Gonzo from the Muppets at this point. I love it.Ā
But what if certain species of aliens have Rules for dealing with humans?
Donāt eat their food. If human food passes your lips/beak/membrane/other way of ingesting nutrients, you will never be satisfied with your ration bars again.
Donāt tell them your name. Humans can find you again once they know your name and this can be either life-saving or the absolute worst thing that could happen to you, depending on whether or not they favor you. Better to be on the safe side.
Winning a humanās favor will ensure that a great deal of luck is on your side, but if you anger them, they are wholly capable of wiping out everything you ever cared about. Do not anger them.
If you must anger them, carry a cage of Xāarvizian bloodflies with you, for they resemble Earth mo-skee-toes and the human will avoid them.
This does not always work. Have a last will and testament ready.
Do not let them take you anywhere on your planet that you cannot fly a ship from. Beings who are spirited away to the human kingdom of Aria Fiv-Ti Won rarely return, and those that do are never quite the same.
Basically, humans are like the Fair Folk to some aliens and half of them are scared to death and the others are like alien teenagers who are likeĀ āI dare you to ask a human to take you to Earthā.
We knew about the planet called Earth for centuries before we made contact with its indigenous species, of course. We spent decades studying them from afar.
The first researchers had to fight for years to even get a grant, of course. They kept getting laughed out of the halls. A T-Class Death World that had not only produced sapient life, but a Stage Two civilization? It was a joke, obviously.Ā It had to be a joke.
And then it wasnāt. And we all stopped laughing.Ā Instead, we got very, very nervous.Ā
We watched as the human civilizations not only survived, but grew, and thrived, and invented things that we had never even conceived of. Terrible things, weapons of war, implements of destruction as brutal and powerful as one would imagine a death worldās children to be. In the space of less than two thousand years, they had already produced implements of mass death that would have horrified the most callous dictators in the long, dark history of the galaxy.Ā
Already, the children of Earth were the most terrifying creatures in the galaxy. They became the stuff of horror stories, nightly warnings told to children; huge, hulking, brutish things, that hacked and slashed and stabbed and shot and burned and survived, that built monstrous metal thingsĀ that rumbled across the landscape and blasted buildings to ruin.
All that preserved us was their lack of space flight. In their obsession with murdering one another, the humans had locked themselves into a rigid framework of physics that thankfully omitted the equations necessary to achieve interstellar travel.Ā
They became our bogeymen. Locked away in their prison planet, surrounded by a cordon of non-interference, prevented from ravaging the galaxy only by their own insatiable need to kill one another. Gruesome and terrible, yes - but at least we were safe.
Or so we thought.
The cities were called Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In the moment of their destruction, the humans unlocked a destructive force greater than any of us could ever have believed possible. It was at that moment that those of us who studied their technology knew their escape to be inevitable, and that no force in the universe could have hoped to stand against them.
The first human spacecraft were⦠exactly what we should have expected them to be. There were no elegant solar wings, no sleek, silvered hulls plying the ocean of stars. They did not soar on the stellar currents. They did not even register their existence. Humanity flew in the only way it could: on all-consuming pillars of fire, pounding space itself into submission with explosion after explosion. Their ships were crude, ugly, bulky things, huge slabs of metal welded together, built to withstand the inconceivable forces necessary to propel themselves into space through violence alone.
It was almost comical. The huge, dumb brutes simply strapped an explosive to their backs and let it throw them off of the planet.Ā
We would have laughed, if it hadnāt terrified us.
Humanity, at long last, was awake.
It was a slow process. It took them nearly a hundred years to reach their nearest planetary neighbor; a hundred more to conquer the rest of their solar system. The process of refining their explosive propulsion systems - now powered by the same force that had melted their cities into glass less than a thousand years before - was slow and haphazard. But it worked. Year by year, they inched outward, conquering and subduing world after world that we had deemed unfit for habitation. They burrowed into moons, built orbital colonies around gas giants, even crafted habitats that drifted in the hearts of blazing nebulas. They never stopped. Never slowed.
The no-contact cordon was generous, and was extended by the day. As human colonies pushed farther and farther outward, we retreated, gave them the space that they wanted in a desperate attempt at⦠stalling for time, perhaps. Or some sort of appeasement. Or sheer, abject terror. Debates were held daily, arguing about whether or not first contact should be initiated, and how, and by whom, and with what failsafes. No agreement was ever reached.
We were comically unprepared for the humans to initiate contact themselves.
It was almost an accident. The humans had achieved another breakthrough in propulsion physics, and took an unexpected leap of several hundred light years, coming into orbit around an inhabited world.
What ensued was the diplomatic equivalent of everyone staring awkwardly at one another for a few moments, and then turning around and walking slowly out of the room.
The human ship leapt away after some thirty minutes without initiating any sort of formal communications, but we knew that we had been discovered, and the message of our existence was being carried back to Terra.Ā
The situation in the senate could only be described asĀ āabsolute, incoherent panicā. They had discovered us before our preparations were complete. What would they want? What demands would they make? What hope did we have against them if they chose to wage war against us and claim the galaxy for themselves? The most meager of human ships was beyond our capacity to engage militarily; even unarmed transport vessels were so thickly armored as to be functionally indestructible to our weapons.
We waited, every day, certain that we were on the brink of war. We hunkered in our homes, and stared.
Across the darkness of space, humanity stared back.
There were other instances of contact. Human ships - armed, now - entering colonized space for a few scant moments, and then leaving upon finding our meager defensive batteries pointed in their direction. They never initiated communications. We were too frightened to.
A few weeks later, the humans discovered Alphari-296.
It was a border world. A new colony, on an ocean planet that was proving to be less hospitable than initially thought. Its military garrison was pitifully small to begin with. We had been trying desperately to shore it up, afraid that the humans might sense weakness and attack, but things were made complicated by the disease - the medical staff of the colonies were unable to devise a cure, or even a treatment, and what pitifully small population remained on the planet were slowly vomiting themselves to death.
When the human fleet arrived in orbit, the rest of the galaxy wrote Alphari-296 off as lost.
I was there, on the surface, when the great gray ships came screaming down from the sky. Crude, inelegant things, all jagged metal and sharp edges, barely holding together. I sat there, on the balcony of the clinic full of patients that I did not have the resources or the expertise to help, and looked up with the blank, empty, numb stare of one who is certain that they are about to die.
I remember the symbols emblazoned on the sides of each ship, glaring in the sun as the ships landed inelegantly on the spaceport landing pads that had never been designed for anything so large. It was the same symbol that was painted on the helmets of every human that strode out of the ships, carrying huge black cases, their faces obscured by dark visors. It was the first flag that humans ever carried into our worlds.
It was a crude image of a human figure, rendered in simple, straight lines, with a dot for the head. It was painted in white, over a red cross.
The first human to approach me was a female, though I did not learn this until much later - it was impossible to ascertain gender through the bulky suit and the mask. But she strode up the stairs onto the balcony, carrying that black case that was nearly the size of my entire body, and paused as I stared blankly up at her. I was vaguely aware that I was witnessing history, and quite certain that I would not live to tell of it.
Then, to my amazement, she said, in halting, uncertain words,Ā āYou are the head doctor?ā
I nodded.
The visor cleared. The human bared its teeth at me. I learned later that this was aĀ āgrinā, an expression of friendship and happiness among their species.Ā
āWe are The Doctors Without Borders,ā she said, speaking slowly and carefully.Ā āWe are here to help.ā
@dalekteaservice this is BRILLIANT are you published anywhere other than one the interwebs because this legit made me shiver, laugh, and literally goddamn cry a little you are AMAZING - have you considered writing science fiction professionally? Because youāre definitely good enough to have a shot at it.Ā
@vorpalgirl belatedly: no, but hopefully soonish. I do want to write fiction professionally. I just have to actually, y'know, finish something.
Thanks for your support. It means a lot.
i cannot for the life of me find that essay about how sterilized, approachable,Ā āniceā literature was used in victorian england to create a cultural imaginary that wholeheartedly ignored the atrocities being committed by the state, but every time i see someone sincerely make the argument that escapist stories are the only moral form of storytelling it rings in my head like a bell. it haunts me. some of yāall actually think that wide-scale erasure is better that attempting to grapple with messy reality in fiction and itās honestly so exhausting
ALSO can we stop evaluating stories solely based on their utility? Please? there is more to a narrative than whether itāsĀ āharmfulā or not, and itāll be way better in the long run to be able to understand what the ideas being communicated are and how theyāre communicated than sticking to just whether or not theyāre objectively and universally Good.Ā
Iām sure people have already linked you this, but is it Gary BrecherāsĀ āAmateurs Talk Cancel, Pros Talk Silenceā?Ā
The real problem, the kind of thing that would make De Niro in Casino groan, āAmateur night!ā, starts when people imagine that they can stop immoral behavior by policing immoral characters, phrases, or scenes in literature.
Theyāre looking for the wrong thing. Theyāre sniffing for depictions of immorality, when they should be scanning the silences, the evasions.
Thereās a very naĆÆve theory of language at work here, roughly: āif people speak nicely, theyāll act nicelyā ā with the fatuous corollary, āIf people mention bad things, they must like bad things.ā
The simplest refutation of that is two words: Victorian Britain.
Victorian Britain carried out several of the biggest genocides in human history. It was also a high point of virtuous literature. [ā¦]
*pauses mid-sentence as the little hamster that lives in my brain abruptly gets off the hamster wheel to go drink water from it's little upside down water bottle*
*Stops mid action as the cat controlling my actions via a keyboard Bluetooth connected to my brain has a long stretch*
*grinds to a hault mid thought as the crow picking words to say from a bowl notices something shiny in the corner of my head room*
#*forgets a word because the little mice in my head have all got to talking amongst themselves*
*forgets what I was doing or saying because the potato battery powering my thoughts got eaten by birds again*

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Not nearly enoughĀ āSirius Black makes himself at home in Privet Drive because thereās nothing the Dursleys can do to get him to leaveā fic out there, and itās a crying shame.
Harry just rolling up like WHADDUP THIS IS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT FAMILAR HE EMOTIONALLY SUPPORTS ME BY MAULING PEOPLE WHO THREATEN ME.Ā And Sirus dog-charades AND THIS IS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT COUCH YOU CAN SIT ON THE FLOOR FUCKERS. You know what else is goodĀ āDudley gets on top of how fucked up his parents are fasterā fic, and i feel likeĀ āSirius Lives at Privet Driveā dovetails nicely into this:
Dudley, age 14 and realizing his motherās Loving-but-Ill-advised cooking is setting him up for some serious health problems, and that heās tall enough to look his dad in the eye now, so his previous rationale ofĀ āIf heās hitting Harry heās not Hitting Meā doesnāt hold up now, and goes full Eye of The Tiger to cope.
This means Sirus gets dragged along on a lot of Parent-avoidingĀ āWalkiesā
So many that one evening after a fight Dudley is trying to round up Harry and Sirius for a cooldown run and Sirius groansĀ āOh youāre big lads you can jog to the tesco on your own.ā from the couch Thereās a hot moment of silence.
āHeās a Magic Dog.ā Says Harry.
āWhat do you mean your dog is a 40-year-old man?ā āWhat do you mean your Dadās BFF?ā āWhat do you mean convicted criminal?ā What do you mean WIZARD HITLER WANTS YOUR HIDE??ā ā..Shit I gotta up my workout routine.ā āYouāre not gonna punch Voldermort out Dudley.ā āNot with these wimpy biceps I wonāt.ā
Shitās getting increasingly tense in the house so when Ron announces they have tickets to the Quidditch World Cup Harry has to askĀ āHey, can Dudley come too?ā
Dudley might be short on wizarding skills but one thing heās learned at Fancy rich boy School is the art of Schmooze.Ā They meet Corneilus Fudge and Dudley charms the hell out of him. Fudge doesnāt even realize heās not a Wizard.Ā Ā Harry tries to impress upon him theĀ āVOLDERMORTāS ALIVE WITH A CULT DIPSHITā upon him and nearly ends up in tears before Dudley takes his arm and whispersĀ āLet me Handle This.ā
Thirty minutes later Corneilus is organizing a Task Force of Aurors.Ā
āWhat the fuck do they teach you there?ā asks Harry. āOh, buttering egos, Trigonometry, grift, the usual.ā āWhatās Trigonometry?ā Asks Ron, walking with them on a field trip through Muggle London for Nandos.Ā Dudleyās UncleĀ āGerald Whiteā is supervising them itās fine. Dudley stares for a moment. āYou guys⦠are learning math, along with your Divination and Transmorfigication and whatsits, right?ā There is an awkward silence. Even Sirius considers morphing back into a dog to avoid this conversation. āOh for fucks sake.ā Sighs Dudley, texting Hermionie to see if she brought her Muggle textbooks along.
(She Did)
IDK what happens when the school year starts but I love the idea ofĀ āWell some snitch (Snape) might notice if Sirus is hanging around, so instead he goes with Dudley to Fancy Rich Boy School.Ā Maybe theyāre short a teacher there and he can reccomend his friend Remus, currently out of work for reasons that arenāt his faultā¦
ā..Shit I gotta up my workout routine.ā
āYouāre not gonna punch Voldermort out Dudley.ā
āNot with these wimpy biceps I wonāt.ā
Only accepted canon from now on, fight me
@tsume-yuki @north-peach
never not reblog
Not even in this fandom except as an amused bystander and I still think this is glorious.
Ngl, I⦠kinda wanna write this.
Come on @broadwaytheanimatedseries if you donāt write this, Iāll have to. And Iām already swamped with writing for school.
Gonna be honest with you, i like this concept as it is, a tumblr thread. I really donāt see a way that i personally can improve or even just elaborate upon it.
The Golden Globes did a segment with children where they asked them about things in popular culture. They gave the typical cute kid answers, since they didnāt actually know.
Then they were askedĀ āWho is Chadwick Boseman?ā And they all knew. Every single one.Ā
what the fuck. hey why are yall classifying WTNV as "ancient problematic media" because people liked it in 2013. am i not FUCKING allowed to like things if they're not from 2018 or later. i refuse to forget about it just because the new-age tumblr gays replaced it with the penis archives or whatever. fuck you
Not to be like "ah how quickly internet communities forget their roots" but ah how quickly internet communities forget their roots...
People forget that the reason wtnv became so popular on 2013 tumblr is that it was openly and explicitly queer from day one. That just... didn't really happen in media in the early 2010s. This was peak superwholock years, where the queerbait of johnlock and destiel were legitimately considered good representation in some circles. Night Vale really broke completely away from that mold and a lot of young, queer fans flocked to it because of that.
I've seen similar things happen with The Legend of Korra, where people today will say "they're just holding hands it's not that big of a deal, why is everyone freaking out" about the finale, but when it aired back in 2014, having word of god confirmation that the protagonist of a popular kids show was in a same sex relationship was unheard of. It was a massive step forward. LOK doesn't really compare to Steven Universe and She-Ra on terms of on-screen queer rep but it aired in a different time and a different culture of LGBTQ+ acceptance.
We absolutely can and should criticize media, even if it was groundbreaking in the past. No piece of work should be exempt from evaluation. All art is ultimately telling you something, and also, no work is ever purely unproblematic. To assume there is a state one can reach of being entirely unproblematic is to assume there is a point where we, as people and activists as well pieces of art, can stop trying to be better. Wtnv, since we're talking about it, has been criticised by some (myself included) for having some ableist pieces (probably unintentional as they're in contrast to some very upfront and center anti-ableist messages, but nonetheless they're there) and for a lack of explicity and clarity in it's racial representation.
But to lump wtnv in with superwholock as a "cringe 2013 fandom" is to ignore and belittle it's incredibly political themes and open criticism of the surveillance/police state(s) and the United States government, as well as the fact that it was groundbreaking queer rep made by actual queer people.
TLDR:
WTNV was the first piece of media Iād ever consumed with openly gay main characters. It was the first thing to tell me āhey, this doesnāt have to only be in your headcanonsā
WTNV, along with being really well written especially for the time (the early 2010s werenāt great for this sort of thing), was unapologetically, unabashedly gay.
For anyone whoās never listened to it, the narrator (who is either male or male-presenting or something along those lines) clearly and openly states his romantic attraction to another male character within the first six minutes
There wasnāt a single popular homophobic trope in any of the episodes as far as my memory goes. Their relationship was never a joke, never a comedy, and was extremely stable.
It's also very much still going, and the openly gay protagonist is now in a happy and healthy marriage with the scientist he was crushing on from the first episode. Just an important thing to note.
Today my seven year old cousin said, in reference to the subject of pirates:
āItās one of my distant likes. I still really like it when it comes up.ā
And I just had to record it somewhere because I think itās such a wise and simple way of expressing an important concept. Sometimes I feel like Iām neglecting an interest if I donāt do anything about it for a long period of time, like I canāt really say I like it if I donāt keep it up, but no, itās just⦠itās a distant like. Thatās its own thing now.
She gets philosophical when in fancy dress, apparently.
i like this term. your small relation is very wise.
ā¦wisdom
milesĀ āwhoās moralesā moralesās biggest weakness is the cover story
peter, lying out of his ass: i was, uh, married to his uncle aaron. he just never let you know
Jefferson, later: Do you think Aaron never told us because Peterāsā¦
Rio: ā¦Tall
Jefferson: I didnāt think Aaron liked ⦠Tall people.
Jefferson: āBut listen: Aaron might have married a white boy just to annoy me, specifically. Itās a thing he would do!ā
Rio: āI canāt hear you. Iām asleep. Ā I have a shift in four hours.ā
I really wish there was a way Uncle Aaron lived and came back to meet hisĀ āhusbandā at some point now.
Aaron: ā¦Milesā¦I love you, and I am proud of youā¦but you are somehow the smartest and dumbestĀ boy I have ever known.
Miles: Says the man who used his big brain to become a criminal when he couldāve been a black Tony Stark with that gear he made. And thought working for the Kingpin, who everyone knows will throw his minions away like tissues, was a good idea!
Peter: He makes a good point, babe, you did kind of mess up firstā
Aaron: Call me babe again and see what happens. Iāll whoop you with a collapsed lung.
All I see is āfake marriage au, but itās also enemies to loversā
If I ever stop reblogging this post, assume that I have yeeted myself off this mortal coil
Miles: Peter I think we can stop pretending youāre gay, my parents already know Iām Spider-Man.
Peter: Who said anything about pretending?
Miles: What! You canāt do that! Youāre supposed to be Spider-Man, not my gay uncle.
Peter: Well congrats kid! Now Iām Spider-Man AND your gay uncle
Miles: Uncle Aaron?!
Aaron: ā¦What? I never said I was straight, kid. And heās not bad when he makes an effort.
Petter: Is that what weāre calling it now?
Miles: Aaah, god, stop talking!
@blackkatmagic @north-peach
Omfg I love everything about this

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Iām a few days late in posting this Holiday Porg Treeā¦but maybe itās never the wrong time for a pile of porgsā¦..
Reblog if youāre bisexual, support bisexual people or are actually a bunch of tiny velociraptors in a human suit