Et in Arcadia ego portrait

Et in Arcadia ego

Order is found amid the chaos.

joiuu:

Today I was feeling especially shitty about gender binary, and how it’s acceptable to be androgynous only if you’re young, thin and pretty. I hear people talking shit about old “men” who wear makeup and “look ridiculous”, and I feel like they’re talking about me because one day I’ll be old and wrinkly and maybe finally brave enough to wear whatever the fuck I want. So I doodled these to cheer myself up, as a kind of a “fuck you” to assholes and a “love you” to fellow genderqueer people. Let’s grow old together and be awesome. <3

Absolutely! I plan on being a fabulous old tattooed queer with blue hair.

violetimpudence:

emma-reads-romance:

Hannah wanted this to be its own post. I am nothing if not accommodating!

Reposting mostly for “love grotto.”

I say NO to the &#8220;love grotto&#8221;.

violetimpudence:

emma-reads-romance:

Hannah wanted this to be its own post. I am nothing if not accommodating!

Reposting mostly for “love grotto.”

I say NO to the “love grotto”.

gallifreyfallsnomore:

Welcome to the TARDIS.

(x)

I would watch this and I love that fandom can make it happen, even if I have to watch it in little snippets.

I’ve become skeptical of the unwritten rule that just because a boy and girl appear in the same feature, a romance must ensue. Rather, I want to portray a slightly different relationship, one where they two mutually inspire each other to live – if I’m able to, then perhaps I’ll be closer to portraying a true expression of love.

Hayao Miyazaki (via jenmyers)

(Source: nitrateglow)

Cis person: Blah blah blah biological woman

Trans girl: Um excuse me, what?

Cis person: Oh I just mean, that you're not a biological woman, you're a trans woman

Trans girl: Damn, you found me out

Trans girl: *features begin to shift, exposing metal and plastic*

Cis person: WHOA WHOA WHAT

Trans girl: *sprouts bladed mechanical tentacles*

Trans girl: MY ROBOT SECRET DIES WITH YOU

Cis person: OH GOODDDDD

violetimpudence:

gronkwena:

Gender tapas. Edit:- Fixed for Viewability
Click for full size

(or click the images one by one to expand them)

I love this because this is how I think about gender. I have a pronoun (well, more like “you can use any pronouns except THIS ONE”), but otherwise the list of traits that define me would generally lack the categorization of cis* or trans*.

tardis-in-221b-baker-street:

A moment of silence for the poor students who were in Harry’s year and only wanted a normal Hogwarts education.

Perspective is *everything*.

Pickled

The Doctor wiped away the gunk from his eyes to see Clara, uninjured yet similarly covered in green slime.

"Well, that’s one way to get rid of a problem," said Clara, brushing away the goo from her dress.

"One would expect that power-hungry species from Raxacoricofallapatorius would avoid an acetic acid-rich planet like Earth, but that sort of detail seems too trivial to be a concern for self-styled intergalactic despots."

nonelvis:

maybenotboring:

"this fanfiction contains mature themes"

your favorite ship has to file taxes and it’s mad frustrating and creates relationship friction but they get it done and it’s a bonding experience they laugh about later. also eventually they will both die.

Prologue: they try to buy a house and start crying when they have to interpret the Truth in Lending Act form.

Sequel: They remodel the kitchen. They get three completely different bids from contractors, half of the new appliances and countertop finishes are back-ordered or broken, and they end up eating takeout Chinese on the floor for six weeks longer than expected.

And they are always, always too tired to have sex.

Genre: horror

Fixed it for you!

Consuming. Slowly.

I am a very fast reader. I gobble up words so quickly, I typically read about 100 pages of a book in an hour. I want to know what will happen next and I’m so focused on getting out the plot, I find my memory of reading a book only once is rarely specific. I cannot quote passages I loved from the book. What I do remember are generalized “I liked it” or “I didn’t like it” or “I found it quite clever”: overall impressions and feelings. I read first for plot.

When I really love a book, I will frequently read it again immediately. This time, I read more selectively and slowly. I skim over the bits that are “ok”, but stop for the beautiful bits. I read these bits over and over again. This is the time for me to absorb the book’s language and the choices the author made in expressing themselves. This takes a high degree of concentration and focus for me.

This is probably why I rarely read poetry.

Reading poetry is an exhausting mental exercise for me. There is great joy in finding a poem to love, but with it comes active attention that has lead me down a path of disappointment in the past. I want return for my energy. I want to be rewarded with falling in love. With books and prose, I allow myself the luxury of reading for plot first as a guide to whether I wish to expend the energy later to really really fall in love. I feel to do this with poetry is Wrong. There’s something about its format that commands my attention, that has me pouring over every word. So, I rarely read poetry unsolicited by others.

The creatives behind #24MAG compile a dizzying array of great pieces for each issue. I consider them solicited, so I make the effort to view or read them all. Including the poetry.

I loved Andy’s poem, “input”, from issue 5. LOVED it. It spoke to me intensely, as a queer person not really comfortable in my skin and society’s expectations for me and my perceived gender. It spoke to me as a person whose body is, in many respects, failing in a multitude of ways. My daily continued existence requires constant medicinal modification to function. To cope with this, I have developed a sense of detachment. I see myself how I want to see me: as an android with defective parts, keeping the machine functional and productive while I wait for replacements.

Even if I know, deep in myself, that those replacement parts will never come.

There’s no memory or space available for processing those thoughts. I need to keep functioning. Keep being productive. Keep things always moving forward. This is survival.

I wanted to honor this poem. I decided to do so by consuming it very slowly. Very. Slowly. By knitting it. By making each letter a row, so that each word would take me fifteen minutes to consume. To allow each word to linger in my head, to consume it as completely as I could. To allow the variations that spring from my mind to develop slowly with every stitch. This is the slowest of consumption, but in the process comes out new things. Consume and create. Processing and producing.

I am an android.