Amyplier, Septiishu, CrankGameplays, Dan and Phil, KickThePJ, and Thomas Sanders. This account reblogs a lot of YouTube stuff. I also do edits and writing sometimes! Icon by @markiplitessepticeyes
Iām not going to use this blog any more for various reasons. So... you can find my new blog at @spellboundnora ! It is still going to be a fandom blog like this one, Iāll still write and post about Sanders Sides and Mark, Jack, and Ethan, but this blog will include stuff about witchcraft (because thatās a thing I do now!) and two new fandoms: Dear Evan Hansen and Be More Chill. In fact, if you like my writing, I have a new piece up there now, a DEH fic thatās angst with a happy ending.
Thatās how many prominent politicians, writers, musicians, filmmakers, and public figures have been publicly accused of sexual harassment and sexual assault since Harvey Weinstein left the Weinstein Company.
Ā In the last week alone, Junot Diaz joined that growing list, as did New York Attorney General Eric Schneiderman, and the Nobel Prize scandal highlighted the experiences of women working with one of the worldās most prestigious literary organizations. So I suppose that brings our list to 123.Clearly, we are far from ending this epidemic. But finally, for once, institutions are beginning to name the behavior of the men who make unwanted remarks and unwelcome ultimatums, who expose themselves, who demand our bodies.
Ā For once, weāre learning to believe women.The women coming forward are undeniably courageous: young and old, rich and poor, famous and unknown. And overwhelmingly, theyāre thin.But 67% of American women are plus size. So where are the fat women?
I was 15 years old, and a size 18, the first time a man told me heād fantasized about raping me.He told me that he longed to pin my hands behind my head, yearned to hear me tell him no. Youāll fight me off, but youāll love every minute of it.
I was shaken, confused, disoriented. As he spoke, every breath drained from my waiting lungs, siphoned by his certainty that Iād be grateful for his violence. Youāll love every minute of it. The life in my veins seeped from my body into the ground I wished would swallow me whole.
Over time, menās fantasies became part of the fabric of my experience. In the years that followed, more and more men would disclose their desire to assault me. When I told one to stop, in my mid-twenties, he was taken aback. I thought you were liberated. You should be grateful.
The menacing ghost of gratitude followed me everywhere. I was queer, which meant I was expected to be sexually flexible, unfettered by boundaries and unlikely to say no, available to be posed in any scene or position needed for menās gratification. And I was fat, which meant I should be grateful for what I got. Even if it was violent. Even if I didnāt consent.
When I finally disclosed this pattern to thinner friends, I anticipated some knowing commiseration, some tools for survival. After all, weād spent plenty of time developing shared strategies for creepy coworkers and lecherous neighbors. But to many of them, this ravenous violence was a foreign interaction, a reason to call police, run away, tell every woman I knew, do something drastic. Desperate measures.
For my thin friends, rape fantasies were an exception, the provenance of a particularly depraved kind of man. For me, they were the rule: so commonplace as to be routine. Around fat women, seemingly any man could be that particularly depraved kind.
More troubling were the reactions from thin acquaintances. A family friend and self-proclaimed feminist, upon hearing about this onslaught of fantasies, congratulated me. Isnāt it great to be wanted? And, more troublingly, thereās a lid for every pot. As if I had been disheartened about the selection of men who would take me. As if their violence were a sign of hope. As if it were just a misguided expression of attraction.
One friend asked why I hadnāt told anyone sooner. I was surprised by her question when the answer felt so plain. Like many women before me, when I share stories of harassment, catcalling, unwelcome advances, and violence, I am met with pushback. Unlike other women, that resistance comes as a question:
Who would want to rape you?
While thin women were free to talk about sexual assault as being somehow divorced from desireāāārape is about power, not sexāāāI didnāt have that luxury. As a fat woman, my body was seen as inherently undesirable. Any sexual attention fat women receive is treated as a windfall worthy of congratulations, an erroneous impossibility, or an out-and-out lie. Fat women are expected to be grateful for any expressions that could be mistaken for want, including assault and harassment. We are exposed to an unvarnished kind of desire, its most violent self, because we are expected to hold and nurture whatever scraps of it weāre offered.
Sometimes, our harassment takes a more menacing turn, relying on reinforcing our rejection, rather than our assumed gratitude. A fat acquaintance recently told me that, at her workplace, men openly discussed who they would and wouldnāt sleep with. She often heard her own body used as a punchlineāāācolossally undesirable, comically unwanted. āI just wanted to work,ā she said. Even when weāre unwanted, harassment still finds us.
When fat women do muster the courage to come forward about our experiences with sexual assault, weāre significantly less likely to be believed about our experiences than our thinner counterparts. While thin women face dismal rates of prosecution and conviction for their sexual assaults, fat women are often dismissed out of handāāāmaking it open season on our bodies. The cultural belief that fat women are unlovable, that fat bodies are undesirable, offers a warm Petri dish, a hospitable home for menās bacterial desires to grow.
It took me years to disclose my own experiences. Because, like any woman, I knew that stepping forward would mean standard denials, scrutiny, dismissals. But for all our talk about sexual assault being an act of power, not desire, as a fat woman, I knew that those statements always came with caveats, asterisks, footnotes. I knew that my body was reliably withheld, an obvious exception to the rule.
After all, who would want to rape us? We should be grateful.
Our national conversation about sexual assault and harassment has become an important flashpoint. Notably, it has been largely led by Hollywood actressesāāāthe Jessica Albas, Salma Hayeks, and Rose McGowans known for their legendary beauty.
But in order to flourish, that conversation will have to hold space for women whose leadership we struggle to respect, whose bodies we struggle to embrace. Even those who, in our heart of hearts, we still expect to be grateful. Because if our feminism fails to acknowledge the humanity of 67% of us, who will that victory serve?
Okay, so very recently, I was cashiering for Publix, and it was late at night, and I actually didnāt wanna be there, go figure. So this woman walks up, buying about 15-20 items, which is a pretty clean run for me, so Iām scanning her groceries, and we carry a small conversation.
During this conversation, she asks me if Iām in school, and I say yes. I tell her about how exams went, as they were near that period, and told her I had a Biology exam that was over genetics. And she looks me straight in the eyes, with seriousness of a heart attack being read in every wrinkle of her white soccer mom face, and says:Ā āOh, Iām a Christian, I donāt believe in genetics.ā
Flabbergasted. My eyes do that spinny rainbow thing that Apple computers do when theyre buffering. A second goes by. Iāve gone through all stages of grief at this point, but havenāt reached acceptance. I have to say something, I have to say SOMETHING. If I just stare at her through this, sheāll know I think sheās fucking dumb and she might get angry, and I donāt need that. Two seconds have gone by. I have stopped scanning groceries at this point, and am just being violently shot back and forth between two sections of the galaxy. I can feel my body taking leave of my soul. Three seconds. I have to say something.Ā
āAnyway, I did well on my accounting exam, so thatās something. Do you have any coupons?ā
hereās her shop! she makes highlighters and other makeup meant to show up on all tones of skin, and her highlighters are incredible. just look!
support her! sheās got awesome other colors, too, besides the gold and the ones in that swatch. my personal favorite has gotta be the pinkish one she named āaphroditeā!
if you can afford to, give her some business! businesses like her are much better to support then people like jeffree starr who is a notoriously racist devil.
her makeup is also just generally 100% better and also better for you, as big makeup companies tend to put icky shit in makeup.
tl;dr support businesses like wvrthy! wvrthy, keep being awesome!
Patton who lives life to the fullest despite it. He finds beauty in everything. He describes sounds and smells in fun, goofy ways. He makes people laugh with joke about āreadingā signs and menus.
Patton who pampers his seeing-eye dog even though heās not supposed to. This has led to more than a few accidents, but none have left Patton seriously injured.
Patton feels so much, and he almost breaks down when people say the words āI wish you could see itā¦ā
No one but Pattonās younger brother, Virgil, has ever seen Patton cry.
Patton lives for the moment he can reach out and touch a friendās face for the first time. He makes them smile so he can feel the crinkle by their eyes and the warmth in their cheeks.
Patton who plays the piano at a local coffee shop to pass the time. (he has a habit of playing whatever melody is in his head)
Patton who is best friends with the coffee shopās owner, Roman.
The local bookstore manager, Logan, is more than willing to order new braille books for Pattonās reading enjoyment.
This offer leads to Patton visiting Logan nearly everyday. He likes to hear Logan laugh. He likes to hear Logans voice. Itās all wonderful. Patton thinks itās beautiful, even though heās not quite sure what beauty is.
And Loganā¦ Logan thinks Patton is beautiful, too. In his own special Patton way.
Logan is a reserved man who values knowledge above all else. If you have the knowledge, you donāt have to depend on others. (They donāt need to know youāre different.)
He doesnāt want to stand out.
The most adept lip-reader youāll ever meet. (But even Logan has his limits. People who talk quickly make him anxious.)
He has hearing aids that help, but very little. Heās self conscious about people seeing them.
He doesnāt like to speak to strangers. Not being able to hear himself speak makes annunciation difficult. (Itās hard for him because he owns a bookshop. His best employee, Remy, is excellent with customer service, so he does most of the talking.)
Logan likes to teach others sign language, if he can. Mostly, theyāre quick, simple things. āHello,ā āhow are you?ā and āthank you,ā are the most common.
He meets Patton purely by accident. He was on his way to work when he saw Patton stumble into the street. He caught him before Patton had a chance to get hit by a bus.
Virgil will never let Patton hear the end of it. (Logan still receives a thank you text from Virgil every now and then.)
Speaking with Patton is rough at first, but he becomes more comfortable with his voice as Patton encourages him.
They practice hard consenents when Patton visits. (Those are the hardest for Logan) and heās happy to note held been making some improvement.
When Patton first signs āI love you,ā Logan is overwhelmed. He doesnāt speak, and Patton canāt see him frantically signing, āI love you, too.ā This results in a very distraught Pattontrying to comfort a crying-with-joy Logan.
Virgil who canāt speak in front of strangers or large crowds.
Virgil who begrudgingly learned sign language to cope but now uses it in everyday situations. (When people donāt know sign, he types his statement on his phone and shows them)
Virgil who is embarassed about his selective speaking, and thus only really talks to Patton when theyāre at home.
Virgil who craves to be heard but canāt seem to voice his opinion when it really counts.
When he gets overwhelmed or argues with Patton, he loses his voice to anxiety, and he can only sign frantically while Patton (who sadly canāt see the signing) tries to calm him down.
Poor Virgil has a crush on Pattonās boisterous employer, Roman, but still hasnāt had a verbal conversation with the man. (But heās texted Roman a few times. His contact has a crown by his name)
Virgil who has signing ācontestsā with Logan while Patton is reading. They try to see who can sign the fastest without pulling a muscle.
Virgil who can convey his message to Patton with a squeeze of his hand, and is overjoyed when Patton just knows.
Think of the moment Virgil finds the courage to stay in Romanās cafe after hours with Patton, waiting until all of the other customers are gone so he can finally whisper, āhi,ā to Roman for the first time. (Roman proceeds to bombard him with questions and scared Virgil back into silence.)
Imagine Virgil having his first conversation with Roman, soft and quiet in the closed cafe, stirring a cup of coffee slowly while Roman smiles and drinks in every word.
I mean. I love mute Virgil. Butā¦ Selective Mutism Virgil? Sign me up, kiddo.
Roman who sings like an angel but doesnāt get parts in musicals because of his inability to dance. (He still gets misty and starry-eyed at the thought of performing on broadway)
Roman who screeches down the sidewalks in his wheelchair, racing kids with a smile on his face and laughter in his wake.
Roman who comes up with the most dramatic (nonsensical) reasons for why heās in a wheelchair. āI fought a mighty dragon-witch!ā is the local kidās favorite.
Roman who sings along when Patton plays show tunes on the piano in his cafe, tapping the armrests of his chair to mark time with Patton. (Patton makes it a habit to play Romanās favorite songs during slow hours)
Roman purposely running over a customers foot when they insult anyone in his cafe. (Not going to sugar coat it: Roman has been thrown out of his own wheelchair for this. Patton hit the attacker with his cane until the man left.)
Roman who struggles with himself, trying to push himself onto his feet and collapsing time and time again. But maybe next time will work. Maybe he can stand if he tries one more timeā¦
Roman who lets Virgil sit in his lap whenever Virgil has a bad day. (They roll around the empty cafe after-hours, and Roman sings something soft and light until Virgil smiles.
*rises from the ground with a glass of milk in hand*
A new Remy idea? Letās dive in.
Narcoleptic Remy
He mans the counter of Loganās bookstore just as well as anyone can, but always manages to drift off after every transaction.
His bloodstream is mostly caffeine from Romanās cafe (much to Romanās disapproval) and he drinks coffee religiously in an attempt to combat his disorder.
Remy does all he can to hide that he has narcolepsy, but itās obvious when heās about to fall. He gets misty-eyed and a little foggy. (Virgil has pointed this out.)
He has fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation. Logan didnāt mind, he was just startled when Remy hit his head on the bookshelf he was leaning against.
As someone who combats narcolepsy, there are difficulties finding a steady job. Remy may tease Logan, but heās actually very grateful for a chance at employment.
Remy tries all sorts of stimulants and anti-depressents, but they worsen his hallucinations. Almost like lucid dreaming, heās far too disoriented to function. (Logan has sent him home several times because of this.)
His hands shake from all the coffee heās had, but heās almost alwaysĀ tired. He complains that heās tired all the time, especially when Logan isnāt facing him and canāt see what heās saying.
Remy laughs it off and tries to make it a funny, quirky little thing. But in truth, it kind of scares him. What if I fall asleep on the bus again? What if someone takes my wallet while Iām asleep at Romanās cafe?
Yes, heās also fallen asleep while talking to Patton.
No, Patton didnāt mind. But he was surprised by the clangĀ of the piano when Remyās head hit the keys. Remy promptly woke up.
This brave Black woman was injured in the attack and needs help - as sheās also left the job after being traumatized by the incident. Help her and her family out here:
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CLICK HERE
ā¬ļø ā¬ļø ā¬ļø ā¬ļø ā¬ļø ā¬ļø ā¬ļø ā¬ļø ā¬ļø ā¬ļøTumblr, do ya thing
I reblogged this and then clicked the link and Iām going to ask anyone who follows me to please reblog this version, because something EXTREMELY important is in the link:
Her attacker is HIV-positive and she sustained cuts during the attack. Sheās currently on antiviral medication in the hope that immediate treatment will keep her from contracting a debilitating lifelong illness. Part of the reason she needs to raise so much money is the cost of these medicationsāantivirals (as opposed to antiretrovirals, which are āyou have it and weāre trying to mitigate it) are mostly experimental.
Just as an example to explain how expensive they are, a few years ago I had the flu and was prescribed the antiviral Tamiflu. It cost me $119āAND I HAD INSURANCE. And thatās for a medication for a relatively straightforward viral infectionāimagine the cost for preventing HIV. (I know PrEP is well over $1000.)
This woman desperately needs help because this course of medication could save her life. The other reasons are important, Iām not saying theyāre notābut while HIV is not the death sentence it once was, you would MUCH rather not have it than have it.
Important! Donāt read this theory if youāre uncomfortable with the community being blamed for stuff. Read at own risk.
@nocturneglitched , @thelighthousewatcher, @glaceonstar-blog and I talked and we came up with this theory:
If the egos are taking over Jackās channel as long as heās in a coma, why are they making a secret out of it? We as the community know that Jack got pretty badly hurt in Kill Jacksepticeye. Hell we thought he was dead. But they act like theyāre him. We only know itās the egos because Chase accidentally dropped the act. But remember the stream where we saw Marvinās mask. As soon as we noticed, it disappeared. We are not supposed to know. But why?
Because we are Antis eyes. His ears. Even his mouth when we quote him.
We are always watching.
The egos would be in danger as soon as Anti notices that theyāre working together to protect Jack, to keep him alive. They have to act like Jack so neither Anti nor we notice that something is weird. If Jack is slowly waiting up, Anti canāt notice. They are running the channel but if Anti finds out who, they might be in danger for helping.
But if we notice, he knows too. And we are doing a great work in figuring out the little hints. Theorizing and quoting.
Remember the video titleĀ āYou werenāt suppose to see thatā? The egos were talking to us. Theyāre trying to scare us off, deter us from looking any further.
But Anti saidĀ āYou stopped paying attentionā. He is reminding us to always have an eye and an ear open to the video. We have to notice everything. Because he has to know everything.
We are his puppets, if we want to, or not.
We are his eyes and ears, always looking for the smallest hint of an ego.
But we are trying to save them.
more tags!
@oi-fischfuck, @septilover2 because they helped too! (yay JDC discord!)
hey hi whats up im tyler and recently my dysphoria has been SO FUCKING BAD and im finally trying to do something about it before it becomes too much for me to handle
as of right now i am unemployed and none of the 7 places in my area ive applied to have gotten back to me. which is very discouraging like lmao cmon mcdonalds just hire me.
so, that being said, i have no source of income anymore and ill tell u this right now:
my parents WILL NOT spend a dime on me if it goes towards my transition. im already out to them and everything but lol they didnt take it too well at. all.
i just need help saving up money so i can
1. start my transition. talking with gender therapists and paying for hormone therapy etc.
2. move out of my transphobic/homophobic household so they stop delaying my life
i do art!!! if you want to commission me, heres the info for that!
if you just wanna help out, here is the email for my paypal: [email protected]
if you cant donate, then please reblog this to get the word around! it all means so much to me.
-When I told the army doctor that sometimes my period pains make me unable to function for days, he didnāt even write that down.
-When I told my dadĀ ādonāt touch me, Iām in painā he backed down for a moment until my mom told himĀ āsheās on her periodā. Then he just laughed.
-When I told my teacher before a big test that I was unable to do it because I was in extreme pain and could barely move at all, she said I was making up excuses and that it wasnāt a real reason not to do the test.Ā
-Wenever I tell someone about how different I feel during my period emotionally they say Iām justĀ āmaking up dramaā.Ā
We need to start treating people on their periods like actual human beings in pain.Ā
-The fact that it occurs monthly doesnāt make the pain less real. It should be treated seriously and with respect.
-The fact that the hormones effect the emotions doesnāt make your sadness less painful or the anger less valid or that terrible feeling of being lost less terrifying. Guess what? Hormones affect everyone. Feelings arenāt always rational. It should be also treated seriously and with respect.
Please stop mocking people with periods. Please stop dismissing us. Please stop violating our boundries. Please respect people with periods.Ā
Space Kid @lilacnestor-blog - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
