#and like. what do I do with this form of privilege??*

[cherrynflowergarden]

what do u think is dealer matt and doll reader doing rn?

22.22 || dealer!matt x doll!reader

sturniolo masterlist add yourself to the taglist

at 22:22, the living room feels cozy, bathed in soft glow of the la lights filtering through the room windows. matt was sat on the couch, his gaze lazily fixed on the view outside, earbuds in, music just loud enough to keep the world out. he feels her familiar weight settle beside him, her head gently resting on his shoulder and out of habit, he slips one earbud out so he can hear her tiny breaths and the rustle of her dress.

she twirls the ribbon in her hair between her fingers, lost in thought, before her fingers drift over to trace the ink on his arm. it’s a quiet habit she has, one he never minds, even if he pretends otherwise. she looks up at him, her cheeks flushed, a small smile forming as she catches him watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“did you make a wish?” she whispers, her voice soft as she presses a hand to his chest, feeling the slow steady beat beneath.

matt scoffs lightly, as if the idea of making a wish is so childish. "what’s the point? got everything i need right here," he mumbles, letting his arm slip around her waist, pulling her more closer. his words are gruff, but there’s warmth in his gaze, and she knows he means it.

she bites her lip, trying to hide the smile that threatens to spread. instead, she nestles closer snuggling into the familiar scent of him—a mix of leather, cinnamon, musk and the faintest hint of smoke. "you’re so grumpy," she teases, voice muffled as she buries her face into his shoulder. "but you’re my grump."

he lets out a low chuckle, a rare sound that only she has the privilege to hear and she swears that makes her heart skip. "only for you, doll," he mutters, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. his hand trails up to hold her face gently, thumb tracing her cheek and for a moment his usual hard expression softens as he gazes down at her.

she beams up at him, eyes wide and sparkling, like he is the world’s sweetest secret. "'m glad you’re here, matt," she whispers, so low that it's barely audible. he doesn’t say anything back, but his grip tightens, a silent promise that he’s not going anywhere.

as the clock ticks past 22:22, she closes her eyes, feeling safe and warm in his arms. matt holds her close, and for a moment, he lets himself forget everything else. it's just the two of them, when he realizes he wouldn’t want it any other way.

an; it was 22.22 while i wrote this hehe doll reader and dealer matt are my babies i love them!!! idk but im feeling that i have stopped writing for others now😭😭 arda work soon?

tagged; @mattsdolll @izzylovesmatt

[yandere-sins]

I also had another random thought about being Konig's platonic darling and Ghost's romantic darling at the same time!

In a lot of fics, darlings are mostly seen as rabbit or caged birds right? I personally think that kortac operator!reader is a swan. Why? Swans glide gracefully, but that's on the surface. They're paddling madly under the water. That's her! Being an operator means that darling shows excellence, but doesn't show her struggles to achieve that position. Also, doesn't have the privilege of opening up because that is a privilege reserved for the rookies. Operators can't do that. In Kortac, darling doesn't have the privilege about opening up about Konig. I believe that all readers are beautiful, so that, plus looking perfect in the surface, radiate swan energy.

And Ghost, being an extremely sharp man with good instincts can see that she's "paddling madly under the water" despite the perfect exterior. Maybe this is what attracted him to her?

A little scenario came to mind! I hope you don't mind me adding on to this ^-^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Ain't you tired?" a deep, gravelly voice called out to you from behind. You flinched, all your training gone the second either Ghost or König were around, and you'd know his accent from anywhere. Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted him hidden in the dark shadows along the wall near you, leisurely leaning against the metal while raking his eyes up and down your body.

It wasn't like you needed to fear him. What you needed was to pay attention to the meeting happening in front of you, although you had to admit you had long tuned out the voices explaining new adaptions to the handbook on how to behave with fellow operators. For a while, you had been watching König, his hulking form a few rows in front of you, other, lower-ranking soldiers separating you just like you wanted. He kept shifting his weight, stealing glances back at you, making sure you were still there.

Of course, you were. You were tired, not disobedient.

"You're not supposed to be here," you mumbled back, your sentence containing the slightest hint of a question even though the fact remained. He wasn't a KorTac operator; he didn't need to take part in a meeting with them. "And you should be sleepin'. Can see your eye bags from a mile away."

"Charming..." you sighed. "You came here just to tell me that?"

"Nah. Just lookin' out for my darlin'."

You took a deep breath, widening your stance as if to put up a stronger barrier. Naturally, König's head snapped around, checking why you were moving. Still, his focus was so sharply on you that he completely missed the ghost hiding in the shadows. König was obviously annoyed about the standing arrangements, rank never suiting him whenever he had to be a professional while in the same room with you. His neck stretched, making him even taller (as if he didn't already surpass all the other soldiers), yet, when you shrugged at him, he resigned himself to listening to the lecture. Was he disappointed there was no danger? One, where he could swoop you up and carry you to safety?

"I'm not tired, thanks," you finally replied to Ghost's question, speaking slowly and calmly to not raise suspicion by letting your voice ring through the rows of operators. If König—who you were sure by now this meeting was about as someone must have ratted him out for how he was behaving around you—wasn't enough of a stress factor, you really didn't need an additional hen to hoover over you.

"No foolin' me. I know he kept you on your toes last night. Always does, that bastard. The thrill of the chase, yeh? But won't you get tired from being the mouse?"

"It's not ideal," you offered, a small acknowledgment of the truth. "But he's my colonel, and I respect him. Can we leave it at that?"

Ghost sighed, and you felt his presence step up to your back rather than hear it. Uncanny, that's what he was. That was the reason your skin turned into goosebumps as he stood behind you, shrouded in darkness like an apparition rather than a fellow human being.

"Sure, darlin'. You can have me bed if you need to sleep for once. You know where to find me."

And then, as silently as he appeared, he was gone again, leaving you with that offer. Biting your lip, you hated how tempting it was. How secure it felt to put your trust in him. You knew better than that; knew he was on the opposite side of the spectrum of the horror you were living.

Ghost made it very clear that he wanted you, perhaps in the same way as König, just... carnally. König wanted his version of you, to be with you, to obsess over you, love you. Take care of you although you were perfectly able to do so yourself. The job was dangerous, sure, but in his version, you were a pitiful, debilitated thing to care for. One that needed him almost as much as he seemed to need you. But Ghost... he wanted more than that.

He wanted to win you over, wanted to mold and bend you as he pleased, wanted you feisty yet helpless to his demands. He wanted you screaming and crying, but he wanted you to come to him despite the eery promises of discomfort he emitted. There was more possessiveness in his eyes every time you saw him, more lust, more desire. Perhaps it was a form of love, too, but it was hard to understand either man obsessing with you.

"[Name]?"

Shit, the meeting.

"Y-Yeah?" you replied quickly, not wanting to be caught. König towered in front of you, his body blacking out the low-hanging lights he had to duck underneath.

"Who were you talking with? I saw your mouth move."

"N-No one, Colonel! I was repeating what I was learning."

"Oh... I see. Good. That's good."

You noticed his eyes prying away from you, scanning the area behind you briefly. "Let's go then. You didn't have your breakfast yet, did you?"

Lifting his arm behind your back, it hovered there. Not close enough to touch, even if you knew he was edging his fingertips over your shoulders, but it urged you forward in a gesture so natural, no one batted an eye. You sighed as you picked up a pace that König had very little problem keeping up with, but you knew that not all suspicions were quelled just with your verbal confirmation. He'd be even more careful and attentive—which was hard, considering he was overbearing on the good days.

And suddenly, Ghost's invitation felt very tempting again.

[serpentface]

What would happen if an Odonii were pregnant, or to a child if it were born? Is it like, a vestal virgins situation

Yeah it's vestal virgin-y in that the consequence is death. It's expected to be a form of ritual suicide, and they will be executed (via being physically forced into this suicide) if this is refused. (This is the same for breaking any of the vows of the order, celibacy is one of several).

(TANGENT: should be noted that 'celibacy' in this cultural context really means 'not having penetrative sex involving a penis', most specifically PIV sex. Getting fingered or eaten out or etc would not be considered breaking celibacy (but if the partner is known to be male, they would bear a high risk of PIV sex being Assumed to have happened) (it's also not something you could just be Open about doing on a number of other levels, it's just that it's 'dishonorable or at least questionable conduct' rather than 'breaking a holy vow')

In cases of an Odonii breaking their vow of celibacy it must be corrected with both their death and the execution of their sexual partner (this is part of the process of reconsecrating the order). When 'breaking celibacy' occurs in the context of rape, the rapist is not only killed in reconsecration but denied funerary rites, beheaded and mutilated, and left on display to rot, which is considered to damn them to a miserable afterlife as an earthbound ghost (this is a wider trend in executions for very severe offenses rather than specific to this situation).

The expectation for suicide or execution would ostensibly be the same in cases of rape, but in practice, Odonii who do not take it upon themselves to honorably end their lives have mostly been exiled from the order while still Getting To Live (especially in cases of pregnancy). This is in some ways an act of mercy, but largely a punishment for their 'cowardice' in not properly reconsecrating the order by ending their own life. Their body is considered to have been defiled in a permanent manner, their exile from the order is a mark of shame.

They not only Lose their privileges and status as an Odonii but are now a disgraced individual (thus having a higher chance that their fathers will not reclaim them under their household), a woman who has not only lost virginity but been impregnated by another man prior to marriage (thus may have Significant difficulties finding a husband, and Significantly More difficulties obtaining security for their bastard child). Odonii exiled in this manner are not only relegated back to the default second class citizen role as a non-man, but are distinctly socially disadvantaged beyond just being a woman, likely to be deprived of the patriarchal household structure, (which is the main source of security for a woman here, because this society is so deeply structured around it). Even if the woman herself is reclaimed under her father's name, any resulting child is very unlikely to be.

(When I say things like this, it's as a generalization. Many fathers Do In Fact love their children and may continue protecting them in spite of social shame, it's just not the default either. In many cases this will be performed by not Officially reclaiming them to avoid familial disgrace, while still offering them physical sanctuary).

An Odomache who broke celibacy (or ''broke'' it in the case of rape) would be FULLY expected to commit ritual suicide, and this would be Strongly enforced without any exile wiggle room, pregnancy or no. Their body isn't just one of many living embodiments of sovereignty (as in other Odonii) but has a Face of God incarnated within it, which absolutely Must be made whole again by their body's reconsecration in death and Odomache's incarnation into a new body. If a pregnancy was involved, the fetus would not have any special status (ie wouldn't be treated as some kind of child of God), rather would be treated as a defiling element in a living body of God with absolutely no reason whatsoever to preserve it.

This scenario has never actually played out in full in the modern version of the order (the last Odomache is reported to have been raped after her capture, but was killed almost immediately without the body ever being reclaimed) so no one knows Exactly how they would handle the situation on a political level.

[smallnico]

i'm literally so flattered by this. i wish i'd come up with a more thought-out argument so i could properly fight your student. i can do the counterargument now if you'd like.

i'm not scared of generative ai. i'm genuinely concerned for the impact it'll have on the neurological development of young people if they become overexposed to the instant gratification of "bringing their ideas to life" and never practice or develop the skills and labour actually associated with creating something from nothing. it means that if the ai gives you dogshit (and it will), you don't have the ability to fix it, because you're so alienated from the process of creating (writing an essay, drawing a picture, organizing a playlist, composing a song, listening to and analyzing and summarizing the art you're examining) that you don't know what isn't working or how to make it work correctly. if you don't learn how to analyze, if you don't train your brain to do these things, they don't stop needing to be done. you will be dependant on ai, or on others to do these things for you. others, you can sometimes trust, but it really helps to be able to really grok the difference between a grifter, an ignorant person, and a person who knows what they're talking about -- and again, the more you alienate yourself from the construction of their arguments, the less you are able to take them apart and see what isn't adding up. and ai is dogshit, frequently incorrect and incapable of doing the small calculus the human brain can do (if you train it to) to tell the difference between quality of sources and reliability of data, so it should never be trusted, period.

the only part of this "new technology" that i'm scared of is based on a history of ideas that i have actually studied. historically, the more we alienate ourselves from the process of labour, the less we are able to grasp it as a reality, and the more people are able to use that fact to exploit us. if you look at, say, the paper coffee cup on your desk, really look at it. where did that come from? it didn't spring fully formed from someone's imagination. someone had to design the shape of that cup, engineer it so it could contain a hot beverage and keep it hot, come up with the sleeve to make sure the drinker could actually hold it, but there's even more to it than that. someone had to make the cup. someone had to source the paper (or the compound) for the body, the material for the lid, the glue that holds it together. someone had to harvest those materials, in whichever country they were sourced, and someone had to package them and transport them to the company responsible for assembling the cup. someone designed the logo and the pattern on the outside, and someone is monitoring the machine that prints those images on the cup. someone will be responsible for picking up the waste and transporting it to a recycling plant, or to the landfill where it'll end up. let's not even start on the drink inside it. farming, harvesting, shipping, receiving, assembling, serving. it takes time to manifest something, and you are in a position of immense privilege to not have to think about where it all comes from on a regular basis. but what happens when the supply lines get shut down? what happens when there's a failure of irrigation or something in the paper mill and the glue holding the paper together doesn't work? do you know? i don't, personally. but there is someone along the line whose job it is to know, and i appreciate the work they (probably aren't paid enough to) do so that i can grab a coffee on my way into my own work. i have to appreciate it because i know that if the process goes wrong somewhere, i have no fucking idea what to do about the problem.

but i'm not pretending to know. i'm not applying for a job at the papermill to work for pennies instead of someone who does know the perfect chemical makeup of coffee cup cardboard because i can order a ton of coffee cups online from amazon in bulk. that's why generative ai offends me. the work that goes into creating art and writing still has to be done, because all generative ai knows how to do is steal, and it doesn't steal like an artist. artists look at the works of others and think, oh, i see how they did that, i want to try doing that, and then they can, because they learned how to appreciate the process. they've actually worked, and practiced, and spent time engaging with the process step by step to create something they find pleasing. generative ai looks at art and spits out a copy by comparing one image to another and assuming based on Uncredited Data that sometimes, pictures have hands in them, and hands sort of look like this. and the computer doesn't have a goddamn clue how many fingers the hand has, or how to translate that data into a visual. you know what does? the human brain. you know what you can do instead of bemoaning that you, a high school junior, can't produce a rembrandt on your first try? you can actually try drawing something.

you can actually try to turn your ideas into a drawing. you can do research into how to make it look the way you want it to. who knows? you might actually have fun doing it. because the creative process can be fun! it isn't for everyone, but unless you actually sit down and try, you won't find out, and if it's not for you, you'll never grasp on that physical experiential level that the creative process is actually a lot of fucking work, and we should respect artists for being able to sit down and do it so we don't have to, same as we respect the farmers who grow our food or the plant workers who mix the slurry that becomes our coffee cup cardboard.

i'm not scared of spotify for pushing ai bullshit down my throat. more than anything, i'm kind of offended, because i do put a lot of work into my playlists, and i have a lot of fun doing it, because i like listening to music and analyzing lyrics and relating the themes of songs to my little characters. i took it so personally because i Want to be involved in the process. i'm paying spotify a lot of my real adult money to have access to music and the tools i can use to entertain this pastime of mine, and it's kind of fucked up that they're raising their monthly fee to fund a tool that makes me, the user of their product, motivated to use their product less. insulting, even. why should i pay more for a computer to do a worse job than me at Having Fun? making a playlist isn't even that fucking hard.

i'm just tired. stuff takes work to make. it takes care and time and effort to create something from nothing, and a lot of the time, the process is necessary to make the thing good, because it forces you to take the time you need to spot and fix mistakes. i hope by now that it's self-explanatory why i don't want an entire society run by a dipshit program that doesn't know how to do what it's doing and doesn't know how to solve the problems it creates faster than human hands could ever manage, and i hope the dipshit machine and the grifters who push it are inextricable from each other in the minds of anyone who's read this whole post. i don't want them to run society either, because they Know that generative ai sucks and can't do anything right, and they're still trying to tack it on to everything to devalue the labour of artists and make a quick buck for themselves.

the best quote i've ever seen about generative ai is "why should i bother reading something nobody bothered to write".

we are a social species. alienation from labour alienates us from each other, from our communities, and makes us feel alone. when we're alone, we're vulnerable down to our core psychology, and there are a lot of people out there who know better who want to take advantage of vulnerable people to manipulate society at large. they want to make money off of your suffering. they want to reduce you to a number for their own convenience so they can use the One Life You Have On Earth to play their own personal tycoon game and get a slightly higher score. they want you to spend less time having fun, creating art, spending time with your family, thinking about what they're Doing to you, so you don't ruin their good time. i'm not scared because it's new, i'm pissed because it's the same old late capitalist shit i've already been dealing with, and i'm sick of seeing it everywhere because it stands a very real chance of turning everyone's brains to even more detached-from-reality mush than late-stage capitalism already has already.

And, on top of all of that, spotify's algorithm sucks shit already, so why on earth would i want it to make my playlists for me. the other day i saw it put zombie by the cranberries on a halloween playlist. she doesn't know dickety shit about my ideas or vibes or anything. so

no, spotify, i don't want to use ai to "turn my ideas into playlists". i already fucking do that with my brain and hands and i do it for fun. what, should i get ai to pet my cat for me? to play my silly games for me? to spend time with my beautiful wife for me? how about i rend you asunder

[theyjustadmitthathuh]

Fish anon again

"Male people, such as trans women, will still never face actual misogyny, which is the name for sex-based oppression."

How can you feel so comfortable neatly categorising trans women out of being able to experience discrimination they clearly do? When trans women are harassed in the street, or pressured to shave their legs, or die of breast cancer due to a lack of medical funding, or killed by their partners - that's only transphobia and/or homophobia? Because of the cells in their body? How does neatly dividing complicated forms of discrimination by primary sexual characteristics make sense?

In your example of a trans women (the "male person") being murdered by a sex buyer - can you say with a straight face that the man's actions were not influenced whatsoever by his hatred of women? That this women who was murdered was the victim of only homophobia and transphobia.

I am going to say this completely seriously, read Invisible Women (free pdf here , free audiobook with a library card here ) and then get back to me. I want to hear what you have to say about the matter after you read this book, and I want you to know that it’s not even radical feminist theory, just regular feminism.

Another book that would be a good read is Who Cooked the Last Supper, but as I don’t have any free copies readily available, I will just say that the reason all other bigotries so closely mimic misogyny is because misogyny was the first bigotry. Misogyny was the very first way people looked at each other and said “i am this way and you are different” and acted upon it to privilege one group and disenfranchise the other. If there is a similarity between transphobia and homophobia as compared to misogyny, that would be because they used the misogyny template to grow.

This book outlines this in how women were kept as slaves because they could provide more slaves in the future when raped. How that sexual slavery morphed into marriage so that the rapist could be sure the child was his. And how this was all happening when humanity was still in early tribal form and long before the birth of jesus or even the idea of yahweh. And how it became more intensely enforced as time went on. How the first recorded code of laws even has misogyny enforced in its text. Misogyny is the template for other bigotries, and that is the reason that trans women can claim they experience something like misogyny, because all bigotry is like misogyny, but only female people experience oppression on the basis of sex.

[mcyteggs]

so are we gonna talk about how blindfold brothers and wemmbu kinda just treat the empire as on call fighters for zam bc of mapicc. he's zam's scary dog privilege LMFAO

[unforth]

Hey if you're a white person (as I am too!) and reading the stuff about End OTW Racism (@end-otw-racism) is making you uncomfortable CONGRATULATIONS THATS THE POINT bipoc have been uncomfortable in fandom for decades and some of yall can't face being uncomfortable for five seconds and still have the gall to have shit like BLM in your descriptions.

Put your money where your mouth is. Be uncomfortable. Actually read what they're talking about and what changes they're proposing instead of jumping right to BuT wHaT aBoUt My DaRk FiC (they want to protect your dark fic and help ensure you're safer from harassment over it!)and ThEy'Re PrO-cEnSoRsHiP (they are explicitly not).

I'm so fucking tired of having my posts and those I reblog on this topic largely ignored on my personal account, but ESPECIALLY I'm furious about how ignored posts on racism in fandom are when I put them on the danmei art sideblogs.

I see racism every single fucking DAY as part of running those accounts. This isn't some nebulous thing happening elsewhere, this is us!

If you don't care, I really need you to take a long hard look in the mirror and ask yourself WHY DONT I CARE?

Because YOU SHOULD FUCKING CARE.

[tearfest]

ㅤㅤmaritza was unquestionably smitten. to have been rescued by her hero was thrilling enough, but for him to be right here in her home was another thing entirely. her father would surely disapprove of the way in which captain vought's presence made her feel, having shoved catholic values of virtue down her throat since her youth. and whilst this wouldn't be maritza's first time straying from the path of righteousness, she already knew that this would be her most memorable. she'd had a few boyfriends very few knew about; but she'd never been with a real man. a real life superhero... a man that was both strong and gentle all the same. a dream come true, a fantasy brought to life. couldn't recall a time she'd ever been so infatuated, the tension between them growing palpable as the pad of his thumb dragged along her lower lip; fingers against his chest only curling in response as she nodded in agreement. such a bright girl, rendered so speechless by the presence of a man that was living proof of an existence that tore through her skepticism. and, for once, she was happy to be proven wrong.

ㅤㅤ" i'll try, but i was so scared. it felt like i was surrounded, there were so many of them... and then you took care of them all, without so much as a scratch. " voice had been worrisome before she mentioned him, admiration now honeying her words as cheeks grew warm under his palm. her smile was pretty much permanent as she blinks up at him, basking in the sound of her name on his tongue. she was caught off-guard by the mention of her father, though; knowing that he worked for some new sector of the government, but his secrecy meant that she didn't know which. she didn't dwell too much, though. more heat surged in her soft cheeks under his palm at his compliment, dimples forming as her smile grew; cheek pressing further into his palm. " oh, you flatter me, captain vought. i'm surprised my father even mentioned me. " but she didn't care about her father, not right now. all she cared about was the man that'd been there to save her life, not the man that she hardly ever saw. the night was barely over, and yet she already felt saddened that it eventually would be.

ㅤㅤcheeks burnt red with embarrassment, almost feeling as though she was being scolded when he explained that telling her his name would result in her death. she wasn't scared, even though she knew he was capable of so much violence; having seen it with her own two eyes that night. but she felt safe with him, as if she thought that he would always do good by her after saving her life. hands fell to rest awkwardly down by her side, fingers toying with the excess fabric of her skirt; cardigan-covered cleavage heaving with each heavy breath as she watched on with awe and admiration as he took the mask off, heart only racing faster. " you're so handsome, mister— i mean, captain vought. " couldn't help but to feel special, privileged even, to get to see the man behind the mask; and she couldn't keep her hands to herself, with one coming to rest back against his chest, whilst the other lifts to push his soft, floppy hair out from his face. even his hair was perfectly soft between her fingers. was there anything about him that wasn't perfect? she gazed, and she fawned, and she adored him; fingertips gently smoothing out along the lines left behind by his helmet. " well, now i feel like i owe you twice the thanks, for saving my life and for showing me your face. captain vought, " she couldn't stop touching... didn't want to waste a second more of their time together with her hands down by her side. " what about the rest of the suit? is that allowed to come off, too? "

her home seems designed for more than just her,  yet really it seems like she’s the only one living here. he hadn’t seen a ring on her finger,  a good sign,  not that it would’ve stopped him really. the logical conclusion,  an absent father. something of which has experience with,  mentally absent and physically absent.  he’s suffered through both,  though the physically absent had been his doing and for a second there it had looked like he would’ve had to run back to him for help had things not played out the way they had. surprisingly,  when that time had come he hadn’t returned back to him.  instead, like the universe was not working against him for once, another man had stepped up.  a man he owes his extended life to.  leon holds his curious tongue though,  he didn’t come here to discuss her living or family situation.

nor does he want to ruin this moment,  because frankly he doesn’t want to talk about his own situation despite how monumentally better it is from just a simple decade prior.  he had been dying,  but now he was the picture-perfect form of his species and of humans.  however, there’s not making up with his late father,   no closure for himself.  that trauma will stay with him for the rest of his life,  unsure of really how to recover from it  ⸻  almost worse than the nature of war,  almost worse than serving in europe,  almost.  she gazes at him as if he’d put the sun in the sky and he doesn’t want that gaze to turn sour.  plus its really none of his business so he’ll bask in this instead.    “shhhh...” he replies, letting his thumb brush over her lips,  “you don’t need to think about that…  about what would’ve happened,  focus on what did happen.”  on what was happening now,   something he had told himself during much of the war,  focus on what you can control.

her lips part and thumb moves graciously back to her cheek.  the pattering of her rapid heart-beat is something he can’t ignore.  it’s a familiar beating he hears, one of the things he’s still learning to tune out from his enhanced hearing.  but it fills him with a sense of pride,  because he’s the one increased her heart-rate,  making her blood warmer underneath the skin.   “maritza,”  he echoes back,  “maritza guerrero.”  pause,  “guerrero,  I know that name.  oh.  so you’re that maritza.  heard about you from your old man.”  so that’s whose house he was currently standing in.  makes sense,  only one run-in with her father but the names are hard to forget.  “he didn’t mention what a beautiful young woman you are.”  lips purse,   “captain vought,” he answered plainly,  “I would offer my name miss but then I’d have to kill you.”  only one person besides himself knew his real name,  and now it’s something vought needs to keep hush-hush, as much as he wanted to tell her his real name.  to take his mask off,  was not out of the question though.  his helmeted head cocked, feeling a warm pleasant buzz at the sound of her finger outlining the bottom rim of his helmet.  reluctantly he pulls his hand away from her face,  his other one also rising to take hold of either side of his helmet and pulling it off.  his body stayed inches from hers. his helmet hair that has grown out a bit flops out.

[queer-reader-07]

i think that the desire for perfection when it comes to activism, organizing, and the like is truly the biggest detriment to progress in the present day. so many people labor under this fantasy that some perfect leader or solution or way of doing things will happen, and in the end we just end up going nowhere.

[dykeogenes]

“what to tell a doctor to get an autism diagnosis” “here’s what i learned from realizing i was autistic at 40″ “i would never want a professional diagnosis” “person first language is so regressive” “autism symptoms are only a problem because of ableism” “we dont need treatment” “no autistic person wants a cure” “four doctors told me i couldn’t be autistic so i found a fifth” “autism is an invisible disability” “dont disclose your neurodivergency to employers” “i/dd and autism have nothing to do with each other” “nt parents/advocates have no place in autism communities” “of course im autistic have you heard me talk about horror movies” babe i have nothing in common with any of you

[phagodyke]

weekend melancholy is starting to kick in >~<

[piplupod]

objectively a stupid thing to get irritated or upset by, but i really hate when people at the centre try to tell me how lucky i am for the life i live or how good i have it, esp when they tell me they had it sooooo much worse when they were my age. they do not know me. they do not know my life. they have no idea what my situation is.

they see somebody who is exceedingly polite and unerringly kind and shows up in nice clothes most of the time. they see that i draw in a sketchbook. they see that i work on the jigsaw puzzle. they see that i hold the door for people. they see that i greet people and ask people questions about themselves in a way that makes others feel seen and heard and appreciated.

now what the fuck are they getting from that that makes them think they know anything about me or my mental health or life situation!!! if anything they should be curious because I share so little about myself with people, I tend to keep things focused on others because that's safest for me. do they not question why i am at the mental health centre so often if i apparently seem like i have such a great life ????

[lurking-latinist]

.

[tiger-moran]

When people are unironically using the terms TMEs/TMAs or AFABs/AMABs or 'men, women and enbies' or fucking 'theyfabs'

[musclegoth]

queers who aren't radical about it like we just can't get along. we can't make out I'm sorry

[digitalcockroach]

idgaf about the terminology used tbqh but idk how u can say trans women & transfems face a specific unique flavor of transphobia and nonbinary(etc) genders face a specific unique flavor of transphobia but somehow trans men & transmascs only experience like "normal" transphobia how does that make any sense to anyone