#and there's all the issues with violence and harassment and the medical issues and so on
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edenfenixblogs · 22 hours ago
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What suffering? You’ve never suffered for a single fucking second, and no, the holohoax doesn’t count. Is being in control of western media, banks and hollywood not enough for you? Is being disproportionately wealthy not enough for you? Does being called out for anything hurt your precious special snowflake jew feefees? Are meanie words on the internet oppressing you?
Date: 2/2/25
Note: ok so this Holocaust denying antisemite is literally just looking for attention and will be blocked by the time this comes out of the queue but in order:
1. First off, I literally have diagnosed ptsd as a result of intense and ongoing trauma suffered in childhood involving murder, manipulation, illness, and neglect. Being from a group (Jews) that you consider (incorrectly) to be free of suffering doesn’t magically erase any other suffering. Also I’m queer and neurodivergent and lived the past few years with chronic medical issues. So…uhhh…yeah. Assuming that this is in reference to a post where I talked about Jewish suffering in general since 10/7 here is and incomplete list of some examples of my suffering and the suffering of other Jews in diaspora.
Total isolation from non-Jewish social circles whether or not we have expressed any opinion on Israel
The inability to attend classes without harassment
The inability to submit work to bigoted teachers and professors who refuse to accept work from or about Jews
Harassment on public transit, restaurants, and other public areas for being visibly Jewish
Living in fear threats being called in to synagogues, Jewish childcare centers, and Jewish schools
Living in fear because local antisemitic groups organize and have carried out Jew hunts
Being told to leave places of business for wearing kippot or Magen David necklaces
Watching my people get slaughtered and ripped out of their homes and kidnapped and assaulted by people who gleefully filmed themselves committing these acts.
Watching people around the world cheer on the actions of the people who committed these atrocities listed above because they think people who share my ethnic identity deserved it because of where they were born.
Watching politicians who are supposed to represent my interests single out my cultural identity for condemnation or violence or ridicule daily.
2. The Holocaust counts as generational trauma and suffering, which is an unarguable fact given that the entire idea of generational trauma was INVENTED to describe the aftermath of-effects of the Holocaust, which was not a hoax you fucking idiot.
3. I work in media and barely make a living wage and have no power to shape any messages at all. I control nothing. In fact, I frequently have to work on content that makes me extremely uncomfortable personally and religiously. If you have the info of anyone I could contact in banking or media or, apparently(??????) the city of Hollywood where all the Jews are laughing over the piles of money they hoard for some reason like medieval storybook dragons, please give me that contact info. I could use some extra cash. Can you also have a word with the Space Laser folks? I want a turn.
4. I earn a living wage, which I fought a bitter multi-year union battle to achieve. And even then, just barely. Jews place a high emphasis on education and serving the community. Which is why many of us pursue higher and post graduate education, which is linked to higher pay. However? Half of all Jews in the US (including me) work in non-profits, because we find great meaning in serving the community. Interesting that nobody seems to have measured what percentage of atheists, Muslims, or Christians work in non-profits. I doubt half of any of those groups works in non-profits, because there are many more of them than there are of Jews. And if half of the Christians, atheists, and Muslims in the USA worked in and for nonprofits, then there wouldn’t be such horrible conditions for people suffering from poverty, homelessness, or inadequate health care.
5. This isn’t a call out of behavior I have practiced or participated in that is bad. This is a mocking of my religious and cultural identity based on stereotypes. Words mean things. You are bullying me. This is what bullying is.
6. “Snowflake” …interesting. So you might not be a leftist antisemite. You might be the old fashioned right-wing kind. Well, at least you lot have always said what you think of us. You don’t hide behind a thin veneer of self righteous savior complex to justify and excuse your hatred. So kudos for that. Shame you used a throwaway account though. Can’t really give you points for having the balls to come off of anon if you use a throwaway account. Then again, you might be a leftie, because the horseshoe has become a circle these days.
7. Yes. Words on the internet are oppressing me, but they are not doing so in isolation. The words on the internet are part of public discourse which has become overwhelmingly antisemitic in the past two years. Being surrounded by language like this online and in real life is severely damaging my quality of life and sense of safety and my belief in the trustworthiness of my fellow human beings. I am afraid to attend publicized Jewish events like local Jewish film festivals, meet ups, or other social events in fear of being attacked. I am afraid to participate in queer groups or social justice events like I used to before 10/7, because I am afraid of being harassed for being Jewish at them—many Jews have. I left my old city after being unable to drive to a cafe without seeing graffiti accusing all Jews of being genocidal and after my mom was harassed publicly by an aggressive man while being visibly Jewish. Are words on the Internet the sole source of my oppression? No. But are words on the Internet part of the oppression I face? Yes. And you have contributed to it here today. And you feel good about yourself for doing so. Because you have the power in this relationship. And you are using your systemic power to torment me. Because that is how oppression works: you have power and feel as though you deserve it and I don’t deserve it and you’re justified in maintaining that status quo, you piece of shit.
8. I may have to deal with bigots like you, but I have dignity and you do not. I say what I feel and think with my actual username and you do not. I am part of a community based on love and acceptance and mutual participation and respect and history and education and you don’t. Because if you did, you’d be engaging with them instead of harassing me. I’m happy to be me and not you. I’m happy to be visibly and vocally Jewish. I’m happy my world is full of love and support, and I’m sorry you have to anonymously send hate to people you’ve never met in order to get enough dopamine to make your life feel meaningful. I’m sorry you have so little joy in your life that you have to find it by doing whatever the fuck this was. I hope things get better for you. But also, as long as you behave this way, you’ll continue to feel this way. You’re a bad person. Because causing other people pain brings you joy. And clearly not even a lot of joy. What a horrible way to waste your precious, limited time on this planet.
9. Fuck you.
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jscrawls · 11 days ago
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Widows rest
My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...
Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, brief mentions of violence, hospitals, poor writing, possible ooc,
Part 8: happy home
🔹🔹🔹
You're officially going ‘home’ today, the doctors have decided that you're well enough to get the boot. It's a little strange to think about, as much as you hate this place it's also the only point of this world you actually know. You have no other base here, no aliases, no hidden safehouse, no Natalia, just you and some strangers. There's been a tension in your shoulders all day, thankfully no one's commented on it yet.
“Are you ready mx Wayne? I've prepared one of the more subtle cars today.” The older man comments respectfully, he's tall, thin, almost haggardly so. yet he carries himself like a military general. Mr pennyworth is an odd one for sure, he eyes the clothes he brought you critically, like he's nitpicking the minute details of you while speaking in respectful deference. It's almost amusing.
“One of the - do you think we'll be attacked or something.” Your tone is flat, yet your words are meant in jest. Though you are curious just how much your husband wastes on cars if there's a selection to pick from.
“If the paparazzi got a sniff of you, then yeah. Might as well count as an attack.” The tall kid mutters as he grabs your bag off the bed, you should probably start calling him Jason instead of the tall one, but eh.
You briefly eye the bag, the only things of ‘yours’ in it is your phone, your medication, and the syringe you managed to keep all this time. You'd tucked that under a layer when you were changing out of the stupid hospital clothes in the bathroom.
“…why would they care about someone leaving a hospital? Isn't Bruce the famous one of the two of us?” The thought annoys and baffles you, most of your experience with press was them accusing you of various assassinations and demanding you be locked away so you're not exactly too keen to run into issue here.
“Mx Wayne, you are a minor celebrity, whether you remember it or not. Being ‘just the spouse’ doesn't mean you're completely hidden in Bruce's shadow.” Mr pennyworth says firmly, his posture straightening slightly, his chin tilting up, he's trying to be firm, He clearly wants to get the message through you.
“…alright, point taken. Shall we?” You start towards the door to your room, both relieved and pissed to leave this place.
“Ahem, are you forgetting doctor's orders?” The tall one- Jason grabs the handles of your wheelchair in the corner, in that moment you want to grab it and throw it off the rooftop.
🔹🔹🔹
You slide the sunglasses a little higher up your nose as you approach the doors, Jason pushing your chair and holding your bag on his arm while Alfred walks in front of you both towards the back exit. Your thoughts drifting towards the next steps, planning your next move…. But why? what exactly are you doing? Playing pretend out of habit, no real mission here. No loyalty or fealty to uphold. No goal in mind. It's a strange train in thought to hit you right as your bathing wheeled out the door by your supposed kid.
You nearly swing an elbow when something is suddenly shoved in your face, a microphone hitting your chin while Jason curses loudly behind you and body blocks the reporter, the duo had been hiding in the bushes like a couple of wild animals.
“Mx Wayne! A word! A word please!” The dark haired woman persists, flailing around Jason while shouting at you, waving her microphone like she's wielding a weapon. “Any comment on your hospital stay? What did you think of your attackers trial? Are the rumors true that you're splitting from Mr Wayne due to your injuries?”
“No comment, don't you people have anyone else to harass?” Jason barks at them, now it's clear to you why he insisted on coming today, he's practically a shield with his stature.
The cameraman tries to slip past Jason, practically kicking at him as he tries to get a close-up of your face. Alfred all but shoves past him as he quickly takes over Jason's job of pushing your chair, grumbling quietly so only you can hear him.
“dear Lord above, no manners these days…”
You're tense, even that small interaction has you feeling put off and unsettled, you're secretive by nature, feeling at odds with yourself already, and now someone's trying to plaster your face on a channel or magazine? Treating you like the press treats Stark? It feels like your skin is crawling, a deeply unsettled feeling nestles in your stomach as you're quickly helped into a car.
🔹🔹🔹
You stare up at the mansion with a neutral expression as you drive up to it, well as the butler drives. Him and Jason have been discussing your physical therapy schedule for a few minutes now while you quietly stare up the long driveway, something about attending every week and needing shots every few days, you really should pay more attention. Gather Intel while you can, yet you're more focused on your newfound freedom.
…Though with the way this place is built, you're still not so free. The manor could pass for a sanitarium, large gates surround the property and you think you can see evidence of security cameras on key points, you agreed to come to this place for appearance sake, but now you kinda wish you'd demanded your own apartment instead. Something private where you wouldn't be locked in a house full of strangers calling you their parent.
“…do you recall anything about this place? Anything…reminding you of anything or…” the butler questions you when he notices your focus elsewhere, Jason glances from the passenger seat back at you with what you can only call a hopeful look in his eyes.
You shake your head slowly, watching as you wheel closer to your next lock-in. “No…nothing at all…tell me a little about it?” Your response is automatic, tone shifting to curiosity and meekness as you meet their stares, though inside you feel hollow as the car parks.
🔹🔹🔹
“-and this is one of your favorite rooms, the library.” Alfred gestures broadly as he opens the double doors, just like with every other room he's shown you.
“Alright…”
You step inside with Jason grabbing your arm like you'll fall on your face, and take it in, the room could pass as part of a public library. It smells musty and old, aging paper and real leather furniture apparent, you walk towards a random shelf and slowly trail your fingers across the spines as you read the titles, Austen, Dickens, Hemingway, Woolf, brontë, the Wayne's are big collectors of the classics it seems.
You glance over your shoulder, catching Jason settling on an armchair with a book in hand, Alfred stands at the door and just…watches you. The old fellow is quite observant you've noticed.
“Something wrong, Mr pennyworth?” your voice is gentle, watching him as closely as he watches you. He shifts just slightly, expression not changing even as Jason looks up from his book to watch.
“Not at all, master Wayne. Are you feeling up for more of the tour? There's still the sitting rooms and the sleeping areas, oh, and the cellars. Silly me.” He's equally gentle, yet you get the feeling this is suddenly a game of some sort. Something telling you to keep a lid on around him.
You fully turn to face him, hand dropping back at your side. “I'm surprisingly tired, to be frank. As little as I've done today…” you don't need to put on an act for that, you're actually exhausted, have been since the paparazzi incident as you left the hospital.
It's silent for a beat, Jason looks between the two of you with a confused furrow on his brow. You and the butler staring at each other like this is a game of cat and mouse. Finally the butler speaks.
“Yes that would happen, being hospitalized for as long as you were can have…. Strange effects on one. Come along if you're able.” He turns on his heel and leaves without waiting to see if you'll follow.
Your brow furrows just a second as you walk after him, was he implying something?
🔹🔹🔹
M.list | prev | next
A/n: we're finally out of the hospital! It only took *checks notes* eight chapters. Lol the interactions are gonna be a lot more interesting now hopefully 😉
Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet
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hiiragi7 · 1 year ago
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If you genuinely think intersex people are safer or more widely accepted than trans people, you do not know anything about intersex people. Being so incredibly blind to intersex oppression that you would say things like that (especially if you're someone who gets defensive over it when intersex people try to educate you) makes you a poor ally to intersex people and actively feeds into silencing our oppression and sweeping it under the rug.
Telling people you have a sex variation or a hormonal condition is not safer than telling people you are trans. It is callous to attempt to use us as a shield and then claim it doesn't harm anyone. So many of those in the queer and trans community know nothing about intersex oppression or how we are being killed too and it hurts.
I am both intersex and trans. These communities are siblings. Watching one sacrifice and then neglect the other over and over pains me. We are siblings, yet you use the intersex community when you think it suits you, and then you are silent when intersex people are screaming for our rights and for help. We have been fighting our oppression all this time, and it feels so often as though we are doing it alone. It especially hurts when the trans community, the sibling to the intersex community, claims the great harm we are facing either does not exist or that it is "not nearly as bad as what the trans community faces". Or, worse, erases us entirely by calling us "cis people with a disorder" rather than intersex.
When you claim to be intersex "for safety", you actively participate in erasing the unsafety we as intersex people face every day. Claiming you are intersex is no safer than being trans, and when you say it is safer, you erase how my community is being slaughtered, the laws that are pushed against us, the intersex babies that are mutilated at birth, the constant harassment, the high risk of sexual assault or violence when someone learns you're intersex, the medical malpractice and forced medical procedures, the way we are isolated socially, the insults, the mockery, the fetishization, and so on, and so on, and so on.
I understand the need to feel safe as an oppressed minority. However, saying that you are intersex "for safety" is not actually any safer at all. And when you claim it is, it harms my community. It works against the visibility of intersex issues that we have been trying to bring up for decades.
The harsh reality is that there is no way to be completely safe as a queer person in this world as it is right now. Telling others that intersex people have it better is a lie. We are all unsafe, all oppressed. Whatever illusion of safety you get from the lie that intersex people have it better is not worth the damage it does to intersex activism.
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cripplecharacters · 9 months ago
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Hello, I have a question. In one of my projects, set in a vaguely 1600s fantasy pirate setting, one of my characters starts out as a burn survivor, with a large burn on her cheek.
She wears a scarf initially to protect the burn from the salt air as well as some self esteem issues, however I don’t want to fall into the masked burn survivor trope, or have a self-hating disabled character.
If it helps, over the course of the story she gets access to hydrating salves and stops needing the scarf as she grows to accept her facial difference.
Thank you for your time, and for all the help you give to us!
Hey!
I think protecting a burn scar from salt is smart. It also could help with the sun-related issues. However, the scarf should be of an appropriate material - a rough texture would only irritate and scratch it, which causes even more problems. If you mention that, or show the process of her choosing something that works for her from that angle, I think it would be much more of a "medical device" and less of a "hiding disability".
It's important to discuss why she has the self-esteem issues. Don't make it into a "duh, obviously someone with a facial difference would have low self-esteem, just look at them" which I constantly see.
Was she bullied or harassed over being disabled?
Is she traumatized from experiencing abuse or aggression? Does she fear that being visibly disabled will make her a target for violence again?
Was there a particular person who made her feel that way, like a parent or a "friend" that influenced her view of herself?
Was society around her lacking examples of happy burn survivors, so she assumed that she can't be happy either?
Make it clear why she feels that way, and don't make the narrative frame her facial difference as the root problem. The problem should be the thing that caused her to feel insecure. It's the same as the fact that mobility aids aren't a problem, inaccessibility is - at least that's how I look at it as someone who has an FD and uses a mobility aid.
This is by no means disability-specific, but look out for tragedy porn. Even if she has had bad experiences, I guarantee you that she had happy ones as well. In her case, maybe she met the funniest girl ever at the 1600s fantasy pirate burn unit, maybe the doctor who treated her helped her discover a new hobby while she was stuck in bed. Her backstory shouldn't boil down to "happy (abled) life, then the Accident, then horrible (disabled) life". That'd be a very hurtful message to send.
I do appreciate that she gets character development around her facial difference. I will say that this internal change often comes from seeing other disabled people thrive, being proud, shown as beautiful and valuable, etc. Representation is important in stories, even in-universe. This was certainly the case for me, and is the reason why now I'm so loud about including happy and positive people with facial differences everywhere. This stuff doesn't exist in a vacuum, you're affecting how people see themselves. It also leads me to my last, probably comically predictable point, which is...
Add more burn survivors, or at least characters with other facial differences, into the story. Preferably ones that have the low self-esteem either far behind them or haven't struggled with it in general (we exist). They don't have to be major characters but even just mentioned; e.g. your character thinking about other survivors she met in the place that treated her burns, or her seeing people with visible facial differences out and about and it making her think about why she even hides hers, etc. In short - don't make shame seem like the default reaction to having a facial difference, because it isn't.
I hope this helps,
mod Sasza
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nightlyrequiem · 6 months ago
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Latrodectus
III. Crime of Passion
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part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
AO3
Latrodectus Mactans, otherwise known as the Black Widow, are known for their uncouth treatment of their partners. The 'widow' part of their name stemming from the common occurrence of the female devouring her partner after mating.
Tags/Warnings: Abduction, Violence, Emotional Manipulation, harassment, A Dabble of Psychological Torture, Drugging, Breaking And Entering, Fem!reader
================================================
Valeria never learned to share. When she was a child, a girl on the playground tried to take one of the dolls she was playing with. It ended with the little girl missing clumps of hair and Valeria being dragged away by her parents. Her territorial behavior shifted from toys to people. Marie and Elle were lapses in judgement. Valeria remained untethered by obsession during her remaining years of high school. At eighteen she had the brilliant idea to join the local military. Valeria knew she could climb the ranks. She was swift, strong, and cunning. Much to her anger and disappointment, she did not receive the recognition she rightfully earned. She shared her frustration with a woman from her unit. Julietta was strong and blunt. Unafraid to say what she was thinking and unafraid to stand up to the few sexist men on the squad.
Julietta had traits that Valeria admired. Her fierce personality drew Valeria in, and for once her interest was reciprocated. The two had a lengthy affair. Heated moments in closets where all Valeria was ever allowed, and it was never enough. She was so close to getting what she wanted. Valeria orbited Julietta, baring her teeth at any and all perceived competition. Julietta wasn't looking for anything serious. Not with Valeria anyway. Valeria's behavior along with Julietta's own inability to stick with one partner for too long caused her to start pulling away. Valeria could feel the shift immediately and it sent her over the edge.
While still working for the Mexican Special Forces, she saw opportunity with the local cartel. Big enough to bring the right person power and money, but still small enough that one could swoop in and build it up. What she was unable to do in the army, she did with ease in the cartel. Her violent nature and ruthlessness were rewarded. She became one of La Araña's favourite enforcers. During a raid on the aforementioned kingpin's son, Valeria saw an opportunity to further her own career. She, along with a few of her fellow soldiers, were tasked by La Araña to escort him and his son to safety. Forming an alliance with the other two soldiers, Valeria executed both of them. She created a power vacuum and what better person to fill it then her? There was only one more issue to solve. Julietta was one of the other two soldiers with Valeria and in the lonely desert, Valeria shot her in the back of the head and left her for the vultures.
She's tempted to give you the same fate as she carefully bandages her arm. Valeria's back rests against the cool, light blue ceramic of her bathtub. She washed, disinfected, stitched, and bandaged her own wound. It wasn't anything too terrible, she's had worse. Her brows are furrowed with anger as she tightens the bandage. She can't believe you did this. She went out of her way to do something nice for you, and you return the favour by stabbing her. She leans back against the tub and stares blankly at the counter across from her. Stockholm syndrome can take years to set in, and you aren't showing any progress at all. In fact, you're regressing.
Valeria rubs a tired hand across her face. She needs to be more patient. She reminds herself of this fact. The temptation to just go back downstairs and end you is strong, but she knows you're just acting out. She stands up from the tiled floor and begins collecting her medical supplies. She places them back underneath the sink and exits the bathroom. Pain rhythmically throbs down her arm, but she pays it no mind. She needs a drink. Walking into the kitchen she doesn't hesitate to snatch a bottle of vodka from the freezer. She needs something to water down the hatred currently blooming inside of her like the world's most ugly flower.
Control is one of the most important things to Valeria. She despises not having it and that's why the military didn't work out for her. Valeria is not any mere cog in a machine, she is the engineer. She would regularly commit insubordination. Doing what she thought was best even if her commanding officer didn't agree. On a mission in Europe, before she even joined the cartel, her squad had been tasked with rescuing a group of soldiers taken hostage. Valeria had been the one to find them, but the soldiers had been brainwashed. They were weak-willed and succumbed to the wiles of the enemy and turned on their team. Her orders were to subdue them and wait for backup to bring them to safety, but such weakness shouldn't have been allowed. She executed each and every one of them. She was under investigation for murder and insubordination but ultimately got away with it.
She takes a healthy swig straight from the bottle. She isn't able to control everything though. Not your attitude nor your actions. Her pink-painted nails tap along the table with her growing agitation. Dark eyes flit around the lonely kitchen. It's well stocked and maintained, she can picture herself cooking meals with you. Dancing along to music while you two make memories. If only you'd stop being so stubborn. She clenches her fist. If you want to be difficult and ungrateful then Valeria will have to act accordingly. See how aggressive you are after being isolated and weakened from hunger.
In the meantime, Valeria has important matters to attend to. Leading a successful cartel is hardly glamorous. When you come around Valeria will make sure to keep you separate from that part of her life. She takes a few more sips just for good measure before putting the half empty bottle back into the freezer.
                   *                    *                  *
She can hear you screaming. You are the loudest you've ever been. Your voice, although barely audible, manages to seep up through the floorboards. She wonders if screaming that loudly for too long can permanently damage your vocal cords. Valeria wouldn't mind if you lost the ability to speak, there's something appealing about you losing your prominent source of communication. You'd have to rely on her for a new way. For a second, she has the urge to go down there and tear out your vocal cords herself. She doesn't though, you'd never forgive her for doing that to you.
Valeria sits right outside your door silently. Listening to you sob so hard you retch. It's been five days since she's decided to impose complete isolation on you, and you aren't taking it well at all. Granted, you're also probably very hungry and thirsty. All she left you to drink was the paint water. Something thuds against the wall. Then another thing, and another. Judging by the weight of what's being thrown Valeria guesses you're chucking the tubes of acrylic at the walls.
The stab wound doesn't take that long to heal. By the second week it's already beginning to scab. She unwraps the gauze and throws it away, deciding it's no longer needed. She walks back out of the bathroom and lingers by the basement door. Everything is silent. You've been silent for three days now. Two weeks on your own should be enough time to rethink your outlook on this situation. She walks into the kitchen and prepares you something small. She can't feed you too much right away, or she could cause fatal chemical imbalances within your body. Refeeding syndrome is one awful way to go.
She makes you a sandwich, cuts it in half, and brings you a bottled water. Outside your door she hesitates. Wondering what she's going to see when she opens the door. She grabs the key from the doorframe and unlocks it, looking inside. You're lying in bed silently, back turned to the door. The blankets on top of you slowly rise and fall with your breathing. Valeria slowly approaches you and kneels beside the mattress.
"Querida." She murmurs softly. She reaches a hand out and lays in on your shoulder. "I brought you something to eat."
You don't stir, so Valeria shakes you gently.
"Look at me." She says. She grips your shoulder and rolls you onto your back. Propped up against the wall on its side is her painting of you. It's unfinished. She tried her best to capture your features, but you stabbed her before she got the chance to perfect them. She's surprised to see it in your bed. Your hollow gaze meets hers and she almost feels bad for doing this to you. Almost.
"... What did you bring?" You rasp. Your voice sounds awful, but Valeria is more focused on the fact that you're interested in what she brought.
"A sandwich, and some water." She sets the paper plate and water on the bed. You slowly sit up and look at them.
You grab the plate and bring it closer to yourself. For once you don't glare at her or ignore the food. You pick up the sandwich and swiftly devour it then grab the water and down it greedily. Some of it spills down your chin and the soaks the front of your shirt. You pull the empty bottle away from your lips and set it down. You stare at your lap with furrowed brows.
"I'm sorry." You mutter. "For stabbing you." Valeria wasn't expecting an apology but her heart leaps. She places a hand on the back of your head and gently caresses it.
"It's alright." She replies, as if your actions didn't make her contemplate killing you.
You sound sincere though. She thinks leaving you alone might've actually worked. She's still going to keep you chained down here for a little while longer, just as a precaution. You lay down. Covers pulled to your chin. Valeria takes this as her cue to leave, but when she goes to stand your hand shoots out and latches onto her wrist.
"Please don't go." You say. It was only two weeks but to someone with no windows or clock, it must've seemed like longer. Valeria lowers herself back down. Resting her back against the wall beside you while you drift off, hand still wrapped around her wrist.
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sparkly-skies · 1 year ago
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I do not raspel carrots, the whole reason I never make carrot cake is that i do not voluntarily raspel carrots unless it's with a proper Raspler with a Kurbel instead of a cheese grater board, there is literally not a single worse cooking/baking task than raspeln with a handheld Raspler.
Why aren't you going berry picking with me 😤
hello hi, someone on JO tumblr started an ask game and I come bearing some things to pick from for you
go berry picking with, walk into a Trachtenstore for at least three minutes with, bake carrot cake with, watch a ballet with:
aleksi, robin, jules, me ✨
Okay it took me way too long to understand this game🤦‍♀️
Let's see. Go berry picking with Robin because you can have a great time with him just talking, I think this would be very fun.
Walking into a Trachtenstore with Jules because I would like to know his opinions and would love to hear him further shit on bavarian traditions.
I would bake a carrot cake with you, but this time it's your turn to raspeln the carrots😄
And going to a ballet with Aleksi because I hope he would get inspired by the music/ orchestra and the emotions, and I think he's very open to other genres and he wouldn't totally suffer through a ballet.
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a-killer-obsession · 6 months ago
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Some thoughts on the female crewmembers of the Kid Pirates? How do they interact with a big balls guy like Kid? 😅 I mean I see him threating women more disrespectful with a lot of ass grabbing 🤪
I honestly think Kid treats the ladies the exact same way he treats the men. In saying that: the kid pirates need a HR for sexual harassment from kid. He probably gets smacked a lot.
I do have a lot of personal headcanons though for what the girls are like! Behold:
☠️Kid Pirate Female Headcanons☠️
SFW under the cut 😊
Also including what I think their weapons would be!
Dive
I can never decide if she's a kid, or if she's just a short adult. The heels and fishnets make me lean towards adult, but then again her rolemodels for her fashion is the other kid pirates so she might not even realise how provocative those clothing items are. Either way, shes a fucking gremlin. Anger issues to boot but also so very happy go lucky, her mood can flip like a coin. We've seen how excited she gets for battle, I think she love love loves fighting. Shes a nuisance but everyone loves her. Has a massive stuffed animal collection (regardless of what her age really is)
Weapon: teeth
Hobbies: getting into mischief, swimming
House
Little old lady who is sick of everyone's shit. And by old I mean like, late fourties, early fifties perhaps. Ship doctor, but in a witch doctor sort of way. Big fan of dr kureha for sure! Has that same flippant, usually drunk on the job sort of personality. Everyone loves her though, shes the matriarch of the crew, and the commanders always ask her for advice. I headcanon she's related to Heat, perhaps his aunty. I like to think it was her that stitched up his Glasgow smile. She probably didn't want to be a pirate, but as the oldest she probably knew better than everyone what a shit show their home island was. Perhaps after all that gang violence maybe Heat is the only family she has left, so she naturally followed him out to sea.
Weapon: stays out of fights, but keeps a pistol on her just in case
Hobbies: collecting vintage medical journals, witchcraft
Hip
Most casual of the girls. Quiet, little bit stoic, bit of a tomboy, probably goes by she/they. Prefers to hang with the more masculine men on the crew, cos she'll gag if she has to listen to Quincy talk about makeup. I actually headcanon she's related to Killer, given they're both tan and blonde, and from the same island (probably, at least I headcanon all the kid pirates sailed out together), maybe cousins even. Strongest and the best fighter of the girls, everyone uses her like guard dog when they wanna go out. As the guard dog shes usually the one to smack Kid when he gets too handsy with one of the girls. He's a little scared of her tbh.
Weapons: the wiki says she apparently has two swords, i think dual weilding short blades would suit her
Hobbies: electric guitar, fishing (she likes the quiet time to think)
Hop
Bad bitch alert!! She's hot and she knows it! Bit of a stuck up bitch but she has her soft side. Gets along best with Wire. Considered the most stylish on the crew because somehow she makes even plain clothes look good, and everyone always wants her fashion and hair advice. I sort of imagine her to be like Nami, very obsessed with money and shopping, and a big time lesbian. Keeps her nails long and sharp as shit, and has a very impressive collection of knives. Her and Hip are very scary when they work together.
Weapon: wiki says she has a sword. I imagine her having a really delicate, slim sword, like a rapier
Hobbies: designing clothes, collecting vintage jewelry (she has very sticky fingers)
Quincy
Super ditsy tbh, really not suited to being a pirate but shes doing her best, its better than staying in the south blue anyway. Everyone makes fun of her cos she has a big obvious crush on kid, she's convinced shes gonna be queen of the pirates. Kid thinks its cute but shes not really his type, he doesnt mind her fawning though. Turns absolutely psychopathic if someone threatens her sweet kiddo! A real girl's girl, she loves anything cute and pink and fluffy, like just so very stereotypically girlypop
Weapon: usually kept away from fights, but like in Wavelengths I'd like to see her use that big chain of beads around her waist like a weapon
Hobbies: makeup and nails, fawning over kid and drawing bad fanart of her and him kissing (yes everyone thinks its concerning, but in an sweet way)
Emma
The quintessential 2010s tumblr scene girl. She reads A LOT of fantasy romance, draws fanart of her favourite book series, she would be a warrior cats girlie for sure. Bit of a scaredy cat and cries when she yells, but shes not afraid to pick up a sword if she has to if its to protect her friends. Really energetic personality though, she's easy to get along with, and she seems to know a little something about everything. Gets along best with Heat.
Weapon: rifle or similar, something long range and slim
Hobbies: reading & drawing
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tboy-trash · 1 day ago
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Hi there, I’m trying to understand trans feminist theory.
Can you help me understand in what ways trans guys experience privilege from the patriarchy? I don’t understand and want to understand. Is it like an inter community sort of thing? Or dependent on passing? Both depending ok circumstances?
My first instinct was to feel defensive and a little angry at this idea, I’ve seen it passed around a lot and I always thought it must be a fringe weird thing. It still makes me scratch my head. It’s not clicking.
However the more I look into it and see the people who are actually saying it and not just people reacting to the idea…they don’t seem to be the types who believe that trans men don’t experience any serious issues at all, so instead I’m looking into it more.
Do you have any recommendations for books and such as well on this sort of subject? Hope you are having a great day! Kind regards, Steven.
yeah no i am definitely more than aware of the problems trans men, or other transmisogyny-exempt (TME) trans people face, this "anyone who talks about privilege relations within the trans community just hates trans men/believes we're privileged in general even within cis people" is just a strawman transmisogynist guys like to use. i (←not a theorist anyway, but yeah) talk about general trans problems often, and even things specific to trans guys as well, as that's the life i live and the experiences i have. i also care about it deeply, no matter what some assholes in tumblr like to say.
the mistake a lot of people make (some of them willfully, some genuinely) when they hear trans men benefit from patriarchy/have male privilege in some ways is that they assume we're saying we have the exact same positionality as cis men (people often use "cishet men" to reduce the argument to absurd even more). the thing is, no serious transfeminist is saying anything nowhere near that. what is being said is that trans women face more structural violence *because they're women*, and we could spend the rest of our lives bringing up the same two statistics about trans men suicide or poverty rates (both very high, yes, we ARE marginalized men) and look like MRAs in the process who yell at feminists about cis men suicide rates as well, or we could look around us -and at all the other relevant statistics, btw- and realize trans women and transfeminized people in general are impacted by patriarchy to a greater extent.
people think we (transmasculines) are led-astray-girls who are mutilating our beautiful fertile bodies, they think transfeminized people are monstruous sexual predators. people argue whether transmasculine people they call "teenage girls" should access blockers and T, whereas they argue that transfeminized people should be in male prisons to be abused. it's quite a different level of vitriol.
and it's not just talk, it affects how people treat us. a recent study proved people are way less accepting of trans women than men. let's also look at it in practical terms which i think could help you conceptualize the "male privilege" thing: if i accused a trans woman of sexually abusing me without any proof of it whatsoever, i can guarantee people would believe me and harass her for months if not years. if a trans woman accused me of the same thing, even with proof of it, only a small fraction of people would believe her, despite transfeminized people being consistently subjected to appallingly high rates of sexual abuse.
none of this means trans men are on equal footing as cis men, or that we reap the fruits of the patriarchy to the same extent, obviously. the situation of trans men within cis people is much more complicated, highly situational and dependent on passing. a trans man who passes well might benefit from male privilege in a meeting with coworkers where they hear his opinion above a woman's, but that doesn't mean he doesn't live his life in constant danger of being outed, mistreated by medical professionals for being trans, have his hormones taken away depending on where he lives and the politics of the time, etc etc etc. the position of marginalized men within patriarchy is always one full of complexities and contradictions, but that doesn't erase all the privilege within the trans community discussed above.
as to who can you read about this: Julia Serano has both essays and her book, Whipping Girl. I disagree with Serano A LOT when it comes to conceptualizing transness itself and her solutions to the problem (imo, she leans liberal transfeminism, and i'm a marxist, or trying to be), but she's still a very valuable author and she uses a lot of examples that might help someone just starting out. i loved Jules Gil-Peterson's A Short History of Transmisogyny, a bit of a more technical read but more accessible than you might think. and there's also Talia Bhatt, with whom i also have my political disagreements but has gone into more detail about trans men's oppression than most of the guys on tumblr whining about transandrophobia.
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goldenseresinretriever · 7 months ago
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Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 7
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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe
Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?
Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.
Word Count: 4.7k
A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.
Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter
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It’s been a week since all hell broke loose in the locker room. It turns out that Maverick and Dare’s marriage really isn’t public knowledge since all everyone’s been talking about is how Iceman had managed to get one of the best coaches in the entire NHL and as an assistant coach at that. Only you and Jake know the extent of the chaos that’s officially descended on the team.
Jake’s officially exempt from practice and the two of you spend pretty much every single day together as you start developing a recovery plan for him. You’d been bouncing between clinics and hospitals getting tests and scans done and you’ve finally managed to book Jake in for the final scans he needs tomorrow with one of your former medical school colleagues. Unsurprisingly, the Cedars-Sinai Kerlan-Jobe Institute had been staunchly unwilling to help you out, NHL or not, so you’d been forced to look elsewhere to get Jake examined. You couldn’t help the guilt you felt that your own personal issues were keeping Jake from getting the care you deserved but it’s not like there was anything you could do.
That’s what found you here, sitting in a baby pink chair across from Zam’s desk as she chomps ferociously on your peace offering of green gummy bears from your office stash, clicking away at her computer, scanning the documents and emails you’d brought for her to examine. You’d been sitting in silence save for the sound of Zam’s chewing and clicking for the last ten minutes. She finally sits back, an annoyed frown on her face. “This is bullshit.” You sigh, you’d always thought so but every lawyer that had glared down their nose at you had always insisted otherwise. “You realize if you were a man you wouldn’t be dealing with most if any of this.”
“I’m acutely aware, yes.” You slump back into your chair. “Instead I barely have a career, and the one that I do have is constantly being affected by this. I’m literally having to beg doctors to see Jake.” Zam glares harder at her screen.
“A physician’s reputation shouldn’t keep a patient from getting seen.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying, but no one seems to care.” You’re tired, downright exhausted from the grueling and frankly humiliating phone calls that had taken up most of your week. Jake was the only thing keeping you sane amid all this. Unsurprisingly, the two of you had gotten even closer over the past week with all the one-on-one time you’d been spending together both at and outside of work. He was more open, and despite the difficulties he was facing with physical therapy, he smiled and laughed with you in a way you knew was genuine. That only made you want to lean on him more, but you knew you couldn’t. You didn’t know if you’d be able to handle losing him when he found out. You could take the rest of the world being disappointed and disgusted with you but from Jake? It would break every last bit of your resolve.
The last thing you want to do is cry in Zam’s office but finally feeling some solidarity and support from someone else is overwhelming. The look in her eyes as yours blur with tears isn’t pity, it’s pain, solidarity in the shared experience of being a woman in this industry. A knock at the door breaks the moment of vulnerability and you’re blinking back your tears as Zam pushes her pink tissue box towards you, pausing to make sure you’re professional again before she calls out to the knocker to come in.
A familiar blonde head sticks its way in. “Hey Zam, I’m looking for Bugs, Nat said-“ His eyes fall on the back of your head. “Hey Bugs, there you are!” You turn in your chair and give him a smile.
“Hey Jake, sorry I’ll be right there.” You glance at the clock on Zam’s wall. “Sorry, I lost track of time.” Jake shrugs, pushing through the doorway and coming to lean against the back of your chair.
“S’all good, Bugs. I don’t have anywhere else to be.” You know he means it in a nonchalant and completely platonic way but you can’t help the way your heart skips at his words. Then he’s leaning over where you’re seated to grab at the tissue on Zam’s desk covered in gummy bears. You can’t see much past Jake’s torso blocking your field of vision but you hear the slap. “Ow!” Jake yelps as he recoils, holding his hand and pouting at Zam as she scowls at him.
“Paws off, Seresin.” You giggle and Jake glares down at you.
“Whose side are you on, Bugs?” You roll your eyes.
“You know where I keep the stash in my office, Jake, you don’t have to steal from Zam.” He gives you an exaggerated pout and you swat at his arm gently. “Go grab some of your own and I’ll meet you in the therapy room in ten.” He grumbles but takes his leave, dropping a large hand onto your head to muss your hair up in a silent goodbye. You feel your cheeks pinken at the casual touch.
The moment the door swings shut, Zam lets out a breath and you look over to see her giving you a look. “What?”
“Oh girl, please tell me you didn’t go and fall for him.” Your face goes bright red. Now there’s pity in her eyes as she shakes her head.
“You’re setting yourself up for failure, you know that right? As cute as the two of you are, and you’re VERY cute, annoyingly so, actually, you know there’s no universe in which that can happen, right?” Your conscience has graduated from a nagging voice in the back of your head to a frowning woman in a lilac suit sitting across from you. You let out an exhausted sigh before whispering so quietly that you’re not even sure she’ll hear you.
“I know.” The tears are back and you hate that she’s right. There’s no future for you and Jake. Yet you can’t help the way your heart jumps every time he fixes that smile of his on you like it’s your personal spotlight and he thinks you deserve to shine. You’d asked him for professionalism at work and he’d delivered, keeping a respectful distance between the two of you at all times and dialing his flirting down to playful teasing. You knew he was trying for you so why were you so incapable of doing the same?
“Oh, sweetie.” Zam’s getting out of her chair and coming around her desk to wrap her arms around you. You tremble in her arms as the traitorous part of your brain wishes it was Jake holding you. The two of you are silent except for your occasional sniffles as you try to hold yourself together. “This is more than just a little crush, isn’t it?” She finally whispers. You nod over her shoulder because you don’t trust your voice right now. She straightens then, leaning against her desk as she looks you in the eye. She looks like she’s debating something before she swallows and speaks. “I’m gonna start looking into some stuff for you guys.” Your eyebrows shoot straight up. This wasn’t what you’d been expecting at all. She shakes her head. “There has to be a way for this to work.”
“Zam…” you’re at a loss for words at her kindness and solidarity.
“Hey now, this is my job, Bugs, remember? Sticky situations are my specialty. Plus, there’s no universe in which I’m letting Cyclone fire you without a fight, he’s a prick.” Your laugh gurgles up past your shed tears.
“Thank you, Zam, I mean it.” She just gives you a sad smile.
“Just be careful okay? Just because he’s a golden retriever in hockey pads doesn’t mean he’s not still a guy. He’s no Javy Machado, but just make sure you don’t let him break your heart.”
You snort, thinking back to your conversation with Jake about Javy’s dating habits or lack thereof. “How’s that going by the way?”
Zam groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t get it, how can a guy that’s that sweet be such a slut?” You laugh at that. “He’s thirty-three for God’s sake, he needs to grow up instead of going through girls like he’s still a frat boy.” She raises an eyebrow at you. “His STD report really came back clean?”
“Really!” You insist. You hadn’t known that it was anything questionable when you’d gotten the results, but you hadn’t really known much about Javy back then.
She groans again, running a hand down her face. “These boys are going to be the death of me, I swear. And not just the younger ones.” She gives you a pointed look. “Cyclone is going to put me in an early grave.”
“Maybe we should get plots next to each other.” You muse and the two of you burst out laughing before Zam sobers before leaning in and whispering.
“Did you know that Mav and Dare are MARRIED?!” You give her a grim smile and nod.
“Jake and I accidentally found out when he invited us over to dinner.”
“There’s no way that doesn’t go absolutely ballistic.” She shakes her head, laughing nervously. “Not to mention the fact that she’s way more qualified than him and SHE’S the ASSISTANT coach. Feminism is dead.” She frowns as if she’s just thought of something. “You think Ice knows that they're married?” You frown back, you hadn’t considered it.
“I think there’s a pretty good chance. I mean why else would he call HER of all people? But a better question is why did she come here in the first place? She’s been coaching the Penguins for 26 years and they’ve been really good, there’s no reason for management to want her gone so that means she left. Mav said they separated on good terms, so maybe he asked her to come here and help?”
Zam shakes her head. “No, Mav didn’t know she was coming. He found out when we did” This is news to you and your jaw drops. “And look I love Mav, I really do but Dare’s been my inspiration for as long as I can remember. She’s the reason I’m here, doing this, and I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to the story than we know.” Before you can answer Zam, there’s another knock at the door. Zam calls out for them to come in and Maverick opens the door.
“Hey ladies, Zam you ready for our meeting?” Zam glances at the clock before cursing and you follow, having both lost track of time. You get up out of the chair, relinquishing it to Mav as he comes in and mouth thank you to Zam before excusing yourself.
***
You sigh, getting up from where you’ve been sitting next to where Jake’s lying on an exercise mat, observing while he does some heel slides, stretching his knee gingerly. “How’s the pain?” You ask, jotting a few notes down on the clipboard at your side.
“Better than yesterday,” Jake confirms as he smiles at you. He’s working hard and it’s showing. So far his recovery has been smooth. You smile back.
“Remember, we have the last of your preliminary scans tomorrow morning so we can’t be late.” You fix him with a look. Jake’s taken to joining you and Pudding on your morning walks aided by a pair of crutches so he can hop along. Unfortunately, both Pudding and her owner are all too excited for these outings and are easily distracted, leading to multiple days where you’ve been forced to rush to make it to work on time.
He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Bunny, I’m always on time.” You give his chest a gentle shove that makes him laugh before pushing to your feet and holding out your hands to help him up after you. The muscles in your arms strain as you pull the much larger man up and Jake’s hands squeeze yours tightly until you’re face to face. His hands skim up your arms gently, thumbs skimming over your biceps. “Who knew you were so strong, Bunny?” Your eyelids flutter shut at the contrast between the gentle caress and the roughness in his voice.
“I’m really not.” You whisper back, half-lidded eyes meeting his green ones. “But you make me want to be.” It’s true, he makes you want to fight for what you want, for what you deserve.
“What’re you doing tonight?” The words spill past Jake’s lips in a tumble. You shrug, knowing you should lie, and tell him you have plans. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve hung out after work but there was never this electricity that’s coursing between you now as you’re standing so close that you’re almost touching everywhere.
“Nothing really.” He lets out a pleased hum in response.
“How does a movie night sound?” His fingers are still stroking at the bare skin just past the edge of your sleeve.
“That sounds perfect.” You murmur back and he gazes down at you with such a fondness that you feel like the air has been knocked out of your lungs. Before either of you can move, however, the shrill sound of your alarm pierces the tense atmosphere, signaling the end of your session and you step out of his grasp to fish out your phone and turn it off. Jake plops into a nearby chair going to put his brace back on. You collect your things as he finishes before turning back to him, twisting your fingers together. “Hey, Jake?” He looks up, a question in his eyes at your nervous tone.
“Yeah, Bunny?”
“Can we swing by my apartment on the way? I’d really like to change first.” His face spreads into a relieved smile.
“Of course we can, and for the record? You never have to ask, you’re driving, remember?” You flush at the reminder.
***
You swallow hard when you pull into the parking garage for your apartment complex. Jake’s never been over to your place before. Usually, you’re content to stay in your scrubs for after-work hangouts but today you need to be as far as you can be from any reminders of your job, your title, and your responsibilities. You want to just be Bugs and Jake tonight. You put the truck in park in your usual spot, before turning to Jake. “You wanna come up?” You shouldn’t be so nervous, it’s just for a few minutes while you get changed. He nods and follows you to the elevator.
When you finally reach your door, you’re nervous again. He’s a millionaire and you’re only half moved into your new place so it’s a wreck. You pause with your key in the lock and turn to Jake. “Look, I’m still in the process of moving in, so it’s kind of a mess, but just make yourself comfortable as best you can, I’ll be quick.” He just chuckles and ruffles your hair, nodding. You try not to look too hard at the living room as you make a beeline for your room, leaving Jake behind.
After a few minutes of rummaging around for the pair of sweats that you’re looking for, you duck back out into the living room to check the half-unpacked box next to the couch. You come face to face with Jake who’s standing by the couch holding a box of dog treats in one hand and some brand new dog toys in the other, more on the table next to him. He’s got a look of soft awe on his face as he looks at you. “You bought all of this?” He asks as you walk over, taking them from his hands and returning them to the table, your cheeks pinkening, not meeting his eyes.
“Yeah, it’s nothing really.”
“Nothing? Bunny, it’s EVERYTHING.” You look up at that and then Jake’s lips are colliding with yours. You gasp against his mouth at the sudden kiss before your body betrays every bit of logic in your mind and you’re kissing him back just as hungrily. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close like he’s afraid that you’ll slip between his fingers and disappear. You almost sob at the feeling that you’ve been craving all day. Instead, you whimper into the kiss and Jake’s tongue sweeps gently across your bottom lip, asking for entry that you give wholeheartedly, whining his name into his mouth as his tongue sweeps into yours. Your hands come up to fist into his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer while you backpedal toward your room. He stumbles after you, not breaking the kiss. Your lips feel swollen from his ministrations and your mind is hazy as you shove the bedroom door open dragging him along with you. The backs of your legs hit the bed and Jake’s hands go to the back of your thighs, scooping you up effortlessly, breaking the kiss to toss you onto the center of the bed before he attempts to follow before he pauses, scowling down at the brace on his knee keeping it from bending so he can slot himself over you. You giggle softly in response and crawl towards him pulling him by the collar of his shirt and flipping him gently onto his back before you climb onto his lap. Your giggles are cut short by a moan as you feel the straining bulge in his pants. Jake pulls you close, kissing you again before he moves to place open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and your neck, whispering praises in between. “So fucking perfect, Bunny. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” You moan in response. He chuckles at that, reaching up to brush your hair back from your face, just looking at you and you flush, squirming under the intensity of his gaze. “So beautiful,” he whispers like it’s a prayer and you let your eyes flutter shut as you let yourself believe him. You open your eyes just as his catch on something over your shoulder and you watch his eyes narrow in confusion, the passion in them momentarily quelled as he pushes up onto his elbows to get a better look at whatever’s caught his attention. “Bunny, is that my jersey?” FUCK. Your heart stops and your desire screeches to a halt as Jake sits up, hands coming up idly to hold your waist so you don’t fall as he turns to get a better look at the frame above your headboard. Because yes, that’s his jersey. The stark white number 86 with his name emblazoned above it on the bright green fabric of the Dallas Stars jersey. And there at the bottom is his signature and a personalized note that says KEEP KILLING IT. You’re going to die from mortification as your eyes follow Jake’s past the jersey to the framed pucks, headshots, and various other memorabilia that hang on the wall, your heart dropping with each one that your eyes pass as you feel Jake’s body stiffening beside you. “Bunny,” his voice is low and dangerous and you feel your body shiver involuntarily. “What is all this stuff?” He turns to you then and you see confusion, anger, and most of all betrayal in his eyes as they search yours for an explanation.
“Jake, I can explain, I promise.” Your voice sounds foreign to you. You reach for him but he pulls away, pushing you off his lap and standing as you get up on your knees reaching for him. “Jake, please! Please don’t go.” You’re begging. Begging for him to wait, begging for him to let you explain, begging him to stay, begging him to understand, begging him not to go. He gives you a pained look as he walks out of the room. You’re tripping over your legs, falling off the bed with a thump as you race after him. You grab his hand, doing your best to pull him to a stop but you can’t because he’s wrong, you’re not strong enough. “Jake please, whatever you think it is, it isn’t.” He rounds on you then, pain in his eyes and your heart breaks at the thought that you’re the cause of it.
“Do you know why I left Dallas?” His voice is low, his eyes piercing yours. You look back at him with confusion at the sudden change in topic.
“Because of how your coach handled your injury, right?” You ask, unsure if he’s asking a rhetorical question or not.
He shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours as he chuckles darkly. “I left because after demoting me and saying he didn’t care if I healed properly or not, I found out why he didn’t care. He booked me a gig as an underwear model.” Your stomach lurches as the realization hits you. The pain in Jake’s eyes is palpable. “He didn’t need me to play, he just wanted a pretty little poster boy to ride the bench and bring in the media, get girls in the stands, buying tickets to see his pretty little sideshow.” Fury hurdles down your spine. Jake said it himself, hockey is his first priority and for his coach to try and take that away from him makes your blood boil even as your heart aches in solidarity. All this time you were afraid that Jake would cast you aside if he knew the truth about you, when in reality that couldn’t be farther from the truth. “And now the first girl I’ve been interested in in years has a fucking shrine in her bedroom, so tell me Bunny, how is it not what I think it is?” You feel like he’s slapped you across the face as realization dawns, as you see what he sees.
“Jake, no. NO. I’m not, I’m not some fucking puck bunny.” Your face twists in disgust. “I would never do that to you, that’s disgusting.” He glances down at you warily, the anger in his eyes warring with confusion and you can tell that he wants to believe you. You reach up and grab his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “I would NEVER do that to you, Jake, do you hear me? Yes, I know my room makes it look like the exact opposite but that’s not what you think it is. Am I a fan?” Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at having to admit this to him. “Yeah I am, and I have been for YEARS, but not because of the way you look. I’m a fan because of the way you PLAY. I can’t take my eyes off you on the ice because you’re BRILLIANT, Jake. I’ve watched hockey my whole life and I never understood what it was to truly love it until I watched you play.” Tears blur your vision as you look up at him. “And this?” You stroke your thumb across his cheek tenderly. “I never expected to fall for you, Jake. Truly. And the man I fell for is so much more than the person I’ve watched on the ice over the years.”
You swallow, your body beginning to tremble as you contemplate what you’re about to do, to admit, but you need to come clean, totally, completely clean. “You may think that I don’t understand how it feels to have everything you’ve worked for taken away because of someone else’s greed, but I do.” Your fingers are trembling on his cheeks and he reaches up to take them tentatively in his own as he waits patiently for you to keep going. “All through medical school, I kept my head down and worked hard because I knew I needed to be the best if I wanted to work in the NHL, and I topped all my classes. I gave up having a social life, dating, and everything to make sure I was the very best and it was working. And then,” you take a shuddering breath, and Jake gives your hands an encouraging squeeze. “A-at the fellowship I was at before I came here, there was this doctor. He was older and one day I was getting some stuff from the supply closet to restock one of the exam rooms, and he came into the closet.” You squeeze your eyes shut like you can block out the memory as it plays out in your mind. “He said there was no way a girl like me did as well as I was by myself and that he wanted some of my ‘special treatment.’ I-I tried to tell him that I’d never done anything with anyone to ever earn my grades, that I worked hard and was just good at my job, b-but he wouldn’t listen. He kissed me.” Jake growls in fury and you open your eyes to see the rage in his. “I was trying to fight him off and thankfully someone else showed up before he could try anything else, but then he turned it around and said I had kissed HIM trying to get a letter of recommendation from him.” You laugh hollowly. “And he was my senior, and he was a MAN, so of course everyone believed HIM. I almost lost the fellowship but it was so close to being over that I managed to beg them into letting me stay. Unfortunately though, if you fuck up at one of the best places in the country, they know everyone and you’re basically blacklisted from the entire industry. So there I was, at the top of my class, with the best grades and not a single job offer… until I met Maverick.” Your eyes burn as the tears finally start to escape. “He gave me a chance when no one else would. And then I somehow managed to convince Cyclone to give me the job. Apparently, he has a daughter so he sympathized with me or something, but he made me promise there wouldn’t be any incidents here. That I wouldn’t get involved with any of my coworkers or else he’d fire me.” You give him a rueful look. “And well you know how well that’s gone so far.” Your heart breaks at the fury in Jake’s eyes and the guilt as he gently lets go of you and you keen towards him, missing the feeling.
“Oh Bunny,” his voice is full of pain. “I’m so sorry.” A sob breaks through your lips and you reach for him, desperately and you see him hesitate a moment before he gives in and pulls you to him. You weep into his chest as he holds you close. You feel so light, like you haven’t in the months since the incident, because Jake’s here and he understands and he believes you, and it’s going to be okay as long as you have him.
You’re not sure how long the two of you stay standing like that until Jake finally pulls away, a deep sadness in his eyes that you don’t understand until he speaks. “I think I’m gonna get an Uber home, Bunny. You can keep the truck until tomorrow.” Your heart shatters. He’s leaving.
“You’re leaving?” You hate how weak your voice sounds and you can see on Jake’s face that he does too.
“I-I just need some space right now, Bunny. I need to think about all of this, about us.” You know he’s right, that you need to do the same but the idea of being alone right now is enough to make you feel lightheaded. You nod anyway.
“No, you’re right, that’s totally fair. I just- Jake I just want you to know, it was always real for me.” You swallow, forcing yourself to meet his eyes so he can see your sincerity. “But whatever you decide, I’m always going to be your physician first and I intend to keep my promise about getting you back on the ice because it would truly be a loss to the hockey world if you never played again.” You reach out to squeeze his hand. “I can drive you home if you want?” He shakes his head gently.
“Not tonight, Bunny. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” You nod your head silently. He steps closer and places a gentle kiss on your forehead before he turns and leaves, the front door clicking behind him and feeling more final than you want it to.
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bookishfeylin · 1 year ago
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bestie can u elaborate why don’t u like the barbie movie (i also don’t like it but i just love giving people the opportunity to be haters)
I feel like I should preface this response with several things:
I liked PARTS of the Barbie movie. Some of the messages in it were really good, and were delivered in a hilarious way. The pure love for humanity and LIFE was very evident and I loved Barbie’s arc. I also appreciated the underlying “redpill ideology is harmful and misleads men” message.
I knew Greta Gerwig was a white woman so I did not expect much in the way of intersectional feminism or even acknowledgment that white women are often the weakest link and tend to be 'class traitors' more than any other marginalized group, so that was not my issue with the movie
It's pretty! And bright! And colorful! It was FUN!
That being said… it did not sit well with me the more I thought about it.
My main problem with the Barbie movie is that it equates Barbieland with real life patriarchy and argues that both are equally bad, when that is demonstrably not true even as shown in the movie itself. When Barbie enters our world, she is sexually harassed, assaulted, and objectified. This is... not how the Kens are treated in Barbieland. They're just... ignored. That's it. The Barbies don't mistreat the Kens, and when Ken gets hurt in the beginning of the movie while beaching the Barbies all rush around him to get him medical attention and worry over him. The Barbies aren't cruel, and they certainly aren't treating the Kens as objects. They're just... ignoring them most of the time. And before someone brings up the Kens being homeless I'd like to add that, given their attempts to build a wall in the movie, there is certainly nothing STOPPING them from building their own homes. More than that: if it really bothered them so much why didn't they ask the construction Barbies for help with making one? I'm sure they would've said yes. There is literally nothing and no one stopping the Kens from making their own houses or having their own little Ken village because the Barbies DO NOT CARE what they do. At all.
The worst Barbieland offers men is being ignored by women. And that's not nice, sure. Hence why barbie apologized at the end. But the worst patriarchy offers women is being abused, raped, indoctrinated into patriarchal religions, and murdered by men. Those two things are not the same. So not only could this movie not commit to actually making a real matriarchy that is actually as bad as patriarchy (because don't get me wrong, I don't doubt that a matriarchy in actual practice would be bad y'all), it then argues that this fictional watered down version of a matriarchy is somehow the equivalent of the much more violent real world patriarchy as a ~warning~ to women's rights advocates to not get too carried away I guess? AND REACTIONARIES STILL CAME AWAY FROM THIS MOVIE THINKING BARBIELAND WAS JUST AS BAD AS PATRIARCHY AND BEING UPSET THAT BARBIELAND RETURNED UNDER BARBIE CONTROL (despite the movie's message that Kens were still going to get rights in Barbieland and would one day have the same rights women in our world have but I digress--) And then the reactionaries felt this movie was anti-Men???
So no. I don't like this movie. The fact that a lot of normie people walked away from this movie like "Yeah! It critiqued Matriarchy AND Patriarchy! It critiqued feminism and the red pill!" indicates to me that this movie failed. The premise of this movie was inherently flawed: that women ignoring men=matriarchy=just as bad as the violence and dehumanization of patriarchy. But more than that, the fact that so many agree with this premise concerns me, and suggests that misogyny is much more deeply rooted in the human consciousness than I had expected. If women merely ignoring men and living life without centering men is viewed as matriarchy, as misandry, as "just as bad" as patriarchy, then perhaps the advocacy for women's rights was always doomed.
Sorry to end this on such a downer btw
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maaarine · 7 months ago
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Sexy But Psycho: How the Patriarchy Uses Women’s Trauma Against Them (Jessica Taylor, 2022)
"Brianna recently gained access to all of her mental health records and showed them to me.
As I worked through them, I couldn’t believe how absent her own experiences were: no mention of being raped or sexually assaulted at university, no mention of domestic violence or abuse, no mention of the constant harassment and stalking by her ex-partner.
Just pages and pages of comments about her being ‘unstable’, ‘emotional’, ‘tearful’ and ‘angry’.
One entry, when Brianna was 38 weeks pregnant and having disclosed abuse several times even states, ‘she is currently living separately from the father due to her mood swings’.
No mention of abuse. (…)
As Brianna quite rightly said to me, the whole reason she was seeking support was because of the male violence she was subjected to, and yet, it was never recorded.
Instead, all there was were years of comments about her personality and emotions.
There are several possible answers to why this happened (and why this happens frequently to many women and girls who access mental health services).
The first is theoretical: the medical model of mental health is disinterested in social context, environments, abuse and oppression, and instead situates the issues within the person and specifically, within their brain.
With all services that Brianna accessed subscribing to the medical model of mental health, their approach was rigidly focused on ‘treating’ her with increasing medications instead of exploring why she was so scared, low and suicidal.
The second is patriarchal: the BPD diagnosis is a misogynistic tool which is more likely to be given to women and girls, and has the toxic effect of positioning women as problematic, unstable and unreliable.
This means that for a woman like Brianna, many of her disclosures could be dismissed as the complaining of an emotional woman, exaggerating or attention seeking.
Male violence can continue, and women who disclose will be reported and assessed as mad – just as they always were."
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sophieinwonderland · 6 months ago
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hi yeah lmao, im ⌛🌟 and im not whatever random ass person you accused me of being 💀💀???? nice try lmao
also you know that. trans people. can be transphobic right. just like how disabled people can be ableist.
but im not gonna be responding to anymore of ur dumbass shit sophie, the majority of what youve done is spout some transphobic shit and told me the history i alr know because i am trnas and lived through it!! crazy. hope you have fun harming random ass people on the internet!!! cant wait until youre left empty inside and broken bc of constantly harrassing people and constantly giving out hate where its not justified <3
-⌛🌟
Wait! Who did I accuse you of being?
Do you think this post commenting on a timing coincidence was meant to imply that you were the anti-endo who posted about the word "sysmed" at the exact same time as me? 🤣
also you know that. trans people. can be transphobic right. just like how disabled people can be ableist.
Of course. Transmeds themselves being an example of that. And system medicalism is similarly rooted in ableism and sanism. Especially when it comes to mixed origin systems, who sysmeds will straight-up deny a right to religious beliefs based on their disability.
My issue with this isn't that "trans people can't be transphobic."
It's that trans people can't be transphobic for comparing the pain they've suffered from transmeds to what they've suffered from sysmeds.
And also that transgender people can't "STEAL" their own terms.
Accusing trans people of stealing their own terms is implying that they're an outgroup that is coming in to steal the words. Frankly, it's trans erasure. You have to actually erase their transness to make this argument work. Which, IMO, is actually transphobic of you.
Once we get past the absurdity of "trans people are transphobic for stealing trans terms" the only thing your argument is left with is... what? "Transphobic people are transphobic for comparing transness to a mental disorder?"
But this point, you know, is a lie. If you've spent any bit of time in syscourse, you should know that the pro-endo position, along with the position of every psychiatrist and psychologist who has weighed in on the debate, is that you don't need a disorder to be plural.
See again, Eric Yarbrough's Transgender Mental Health, which was reviewed and published by the American Psychiatric Association.
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So the whole "this is transphobic for comparing being transgender to a mental disorder" point is null. Being plural and being a system are not inherently mental disorders.
But I'm sure you're going to make some excuse about why this book, published by the American Psychiatric Association, is totally not valid. You know, just like how transmeds have historically dismissed all the doctors and research saying that you didn't need dysphoria to be trans.
Are you going to try to call me transphobic again for pointing out how your arguments and tactics are exactly like those of transmeds?
constantly harrassing people
This is beside the point, but I feel like this would be a bit more effective had sysmeds not watered down "harassment" to the point of being meaningless.
Like, I just saw a post from a sysmed who was asked why they were putting "doctors" in scare quotes to imply the authors of articles cited by pro-endos aren't real doctors, and the sysmed accused the anon of harassment just for asking the question.
Like to me, harassment means namecalling. Threats of violence. Bullying. Fakeclaiming. Personal attacks.
But it seems to most sysmeds, harassment means questioning them. It means having a different opinion and stating it where they can hear. It means linking sources or saying that they're wrong.
I've seen sysmeds, always desperate to play the part of the victim, complain about being asked "loaded questions" (the question was what punk values meant to them) and beg for death threats in the same post.
It's just so hard anymore to take sysmeds complaining about harassment seriously when it's clear they're just calling everything harassment so they can win victim points.
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owlelite · 26 days ago
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What’s your reaction supposed to be when the person you care about most says they’re tired of existing. And you’re in the same boat, I constantly fantasize about just not being alive.
I’ve got a psych appt 21st for what, to be given meds and forgotten about again.
- my roommates had issues since he was 18 due to his mothers death and traumatic childhood filled with domestic violence
- every single thing we try goes badly
- we aren’t allowed to chill, it’s constantly loud for no reason, my roommate has trauma with yelling and this isn’t helping but oh we say anything we might get kicked out or told we are wussies or some shit.
- my roommate is heavily mentally ill, so his thought process is what’s the point? He’s been brushed off over and over and over again by medical professionals. Told that he’s crazy, told him the only way he’ll get better is to separate him from me and his dogs to be admitted to mess him up more.
- I can’t seem to find work despite my experience here, I’m so over it
I am going to be 28 years old. I rented an apartment for 1 year…. 1 year and during that time was harassed by maintaince and at the time at my job. So we’ve always always lived with someone else. And these places aren’t fun. My family abused us, and now we are just reliving trauma in this household. It’s hard to tell if we are welcome, or if we are not. He inhabitant constantly talk shit about each other. One of them and her grandson don’t shower or wash ever so the smell from her room is so bad, the grandson is excessively rude as well he even once tried to kick one of our dogs because he refuses to say hi to them so they don’t freak out when he comes over.
We are told if we need anything to ask. But then get snide comments, and are immediately blamed for using too much water, moving this, moving that first hand before saying it wasn’t us. Jumping to conclusions instead of asking us.
All we want is peace, but we get none of it. No support, no family, even the government hates us as trans men. I… am…, tired…. And can barely even afford the help.
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hospithell · 5 months ago
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My intro!! Everything under the cut!
(Note that this is a 15+ blog due to themes I’d like to include with my ocs, under 15 please DNI, if I interact with you and you’re under 15, it was unintentional and I’m sorry.)
(Note that this does not apply to things such as awareness posts for world issues…obviously..)
(NOTE 3: IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY MEDICAL STUFF, GO NO FURTHER AND BLOCK THIS ACCOUNT. FOR YOUR SAKE AND MINE.)
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Call me Eileen! I’m 15, use she/they (don’t mind Neopronouns though) and this is a sideblog for my ocs!
I can’t be bothered to add my main here, so you gotta find out on your own lmao
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With the exception of this blog being 15+ there is no strict DNI, and I block freely. But you should know that if you are:
•Bigoted
•Pro-c (or even neu-c) (or anything other than strictly anti-c) for non consensual paras
•support harassing people over fiction (don’t be an asshole!)
•An irl condoner (basically those who condone irl taboo subjects, instead of exclusively in fiction)
You can and will be blocked ON SIGHT. (Reported too if applicable)
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WHAT I TRIGGER TAG:
I trigger Tag the following:
Flashing lights, mental health related topics, red blood, mentions of paedophillia, incest, etc (both irl and fiction), bigotry, violence, stuff like insects arachnids and worms, and probably some other stuff I can’t think of listing
If I forget to trigger tag something on this list, it was unintentional, please tell me so so I can edit it.
I likely won’t be tagging ultra specific things for specific people cause I have a REALLY shitty memory and will forget (example if you want me to trigger tag like…Pokémon or something. A Pokémon related post would likely have a regular Pokémon tag anyway, which you can mute)
If it’s not an super specific thing that I should’ve been trigger tagging, obviously I will try to add them in future posts with said thing
This is not out of disrespect for your triggers, more out of my shitty memory and not being able to keep track of peoples triggers who aren’t like friends and shit
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Uhh I think that’s all I need to add! Might edit this later though
Love you guys!
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coochiequeens · 2 years ago
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I really don’t like that this is written by someone with the Alliance Defending Freedom but if protecting women’s rights is hateful to the TQ+ then maybe your approach is wrong.
Amid the fervent debate over sex and gender, a rising chorus of critics is at long last denouncing the mutilation of children via "gender affirmation" surgery as nothing short of severe and irreversible harm. In no uncertain terms, any efforts to tamper with the biological reality that girls are born girls and boys are born boys, including subjecting the most vulnerable among us to life-altering medical procedures they cannot truly consent to, are an act of violence.
Now, Reem Alsalem, the United Nations special rapporteur on violence against women and girls, has jumped into the swirling gender conversation vortex. Alsalem's latest statementaffirms the crucial importance of protecting free speech on this issue. As she states, "it is important that people, including researchers and academic[s], who express their views on 'gender affirming' interventions including for children are not silenced, threatened, or intimidated simply for holding and articulating such views." Indeed, there should be no doubt or debate that those who peacefully express their views on this most urgent of conversations should not live in fear of retribution.
Alsalem's recent statements diverge strongly from the mainstream position of the UN bureaucracy, which finds itself at the center of the global push for radical gender ideology. Going beyond mere rainbow-themed branding, the UN's advocacy for trans rights has mostly been about suppressing dissenters who hold to biological reality, often in the face of immense pressure. Governments and peoples that maintain the view of man and woman that for millennia has served us well are labeled as proponents of "hate." And attempts are made to silence all who dare to speak out in defense of objective facts and defend dissenting perspectives.
It is in this climate that Alsalem has taken her stand. It is unsurprising that a significant portion of the debate concerning biological reality revolves precisely around the right to speak freely. So tenuous is the claim that biology is a fiction that any "progress" on this issue requires a clampdown of the greatest severity. The special rapporteur should be applauded for rightfully using her mandate to shine a spotlight on this insidious dynamic.
Alsalem asserts without equivocation:
Measures that I find particularly concerning include reprisals such as censorship, legal harassment, loss of jobs, loss of income, removal from social media platforms, speaking engagements and the refusal to publish research conclusions and articles. These tactics have affected the ability to discuss issues related to sex, gender, and gender identity within universities and in society.
For the many across the globe who have endured intimidation, reprisals, or even violence for simply voicing basic biological facts—many times for simply raising common-sense questions—Alsalem's stance is a much-needed breath of fresh air. It is clear that the most contentious issues of our time require more, not less, conversation. And the special rapporteur is absolutely correct to fight for the right to have these conversations.
Alsalem makes clear that this is a matter of basic human rights. "Sweeping restrictions on the ability of women and men to raise concerns regarding the scope of rights based on gender identity and sex," she says, "are in violation of the fundamentals of freedom of thought and freedom of belief and expression." Where there is no respect for freedom of speech, all human rights are placed in jeopardy.
Men and women from all walks of life are facing the ominous specter of censorship, which, in many parts of the world, is reaching its apex on the issue of "gender identity." Take the case of Mexican congressman Gabriel Quadri. An avowed liberal, Quadri has been charged and convicted as a "political violator against women" after expressing concern on Twitterthat biological males who identify as women have occupied spaces in Mexico's Congressreserved for women.
The highest electoral court in Mexico ruled that Quadri's posts, simply asking questions about gender identity and fairness for women, were discriminatory. He was ordered to delete his tweets, issue a public apology, and be registered as a gender-based political violator—blatant censorship measures that infringe upon his human right to freedom of expression. With no further recourse for justice within Mexico, Quadri is now bringing his case to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights.
Civil society leader Rodrigo Iván Cortés finds himself in a similar situation, having been convicted of "gender-based political violence," including digital violence, over social media posts referring to a transgender-identifying Mexican congressional representative as a "man who self-ascribes as a woman." He is awaiting a ruling on his appeal.
Like countless concerned citizens worldwide, Quadri and Cortés took to social media platforms to seek open conversation on a highly relevant matter of serious societal importance. They committed no crime and endorsed no violence. The same is true in the case of Finnish Member of Parliament Päivi Räsänen, who has been facing "hate speech" charges carrying a potential prison sentence of two years. A civil servant, medical doctor, and grandmother, Räsänen has endured three years of onerous legal proceedings simply for expressing her views on marriage and sexuality on Twitter.
The targeting of persons in positions of influence inevitably has a chilling effect that reverberates throughout society. Regardless of one's views on the hot-button issues of our time, the importance of free speech should be a unifying factor rather than a divisive one. The threat of severe consequences for questioning the reigning narrative requires astonishing bravery to be overcome. Perhaps even more astonishing is the simple fact that we've reached the point in our history where this level of bravery is not just admirable, but imperative.
Speaking out is the most powerful defense of free speech, and indeed, of human rights in general. Those, like Alsalem, who champion respect for this fundamental freedom deserve widespread recognition and support—regardless of whether you share their opinions or not.
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noonesgaylikegatson · 2 years ago
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July 31, 2023
O’Shae Sibley was at a Brooklyn gas station with friends late Saturday night, filling up a car and blasting music by Beyoncé when a group of men approached and told them to stop dancing, according to friends.
The men began using slurs and Mr. Sibley, 28, a gay man who was a professional dancer and choreographer, confronted them, according to his friends and a video of the altercation. The argument escalated and one man stabbed Mr. Sibley, according to the police. Otis Pena, one of Mr. Sibley’s best friends, pressed on his wound to stop the bleeding before he was taken to Maimonides Medical Center where he was pronounced dead.
“They murdered him because he’s gay, because he stood up for his friends,” Mr. Pena said in a Facebook video that he posted hours after the killing on Coney Island Avenue in Midwood. “His name was O’Shae and you all killed him. You all murdered him right in front of me.”
No arrests had been made by Monday, but the police said that the hate crimes unit was involved in the investigation.
The killing has devastated Mr. Sibley’s family — he is one of 11 siblings — and unnerved the city’s gay community. While the motive remains under investigation, the attack was a reminder of the biases that L.G.B.T.Q. people face.
The Anti-Defamation League and the advocacy group GLAAD issued a report in June indicating an increase in harassment and violence against gay and transgender people, including online bullying, gatherings of armed protesters outside drag shows and bomb threats against hospitals that provide gender transition care. In the first three weeks of June there were 101 such incidents, more than twice the number during the same time period the year before.
Brad Hoylman-Sigal, a gay state senator in New York, said he was “heartbroken and enraged” over Mr. Sibley’s killing.
“Gay joy is not crime,” he said on Twitter. “Hate-fueled attacks are.”
Mr. Sibley had moved from Philadelphia before the pandemic, hoping New York would provide more auditions and opportunities, said an aunt, Tondra Sibley, 49.
“It was a senseless crime,” she said. “O’Shae has always been a peacemaker. All he wanted to do was dance.”
She recalled him as a small boy, “gyrating and jerking” to Missy Elliott. When he got older, he honed his skills at the Philadelphia Dance Company and, on the advice of instructors, began ballet, taking advantage of his long, athletic frame.
Kemar Jewel, a 31-year-old choreographer and director, met Mr. Sibley in Philadelphia 13 years ago at the Attic Youth Center, where gay teenagers could go for after-school programs and activities. They were only a few years apart, but Mr. Sibley saw him as a mentor. “He was like, ‘You’re my uncle. I’m going to call you uncle,’” Mr. Jewel said.
Goofy and fun-loving, Mr. Sibley was serious about his craft. He would hunker down at Mr. Jewel’s apartment until 3 a.m. to study dance videos, from vogueing to the modern techniques introduced by Martha Graham and Lester Horton, American dancers and choreographers born around the turn of the 20th century.
“O’Shae was so well versed. He was great at tap, ballet, hip-hop,” Mr. Jewel said. “He was an incredible visual learner. I’ve seen him watch someone do something twice and then just do it.”
Mr. Jewel, who is in London working on a show, said he was sleeping on Sunday morning when Mr. Pena called to tell him what had happened.
At the gas station, Mr. Sibley and his friends had been playing “Renaissance” by Beyoncé and vogueing, a style of dance that began as an imitation of fashion models in the 1980s and has evolved as an expression of pride and protest.
That is when the group of men approached, calling them names, Mr. Jewel said, recalling the account of Mr. Pena, who could not be reached for comment.
Both Mr. Sibley and Mr. Pena told them, “Stop saying that. There is nothing wrong with being gay.”
Mr. Sibley fought with them, and he was stabbed as Mr. Pena ran to intervene, Mr. Jewel said.
At the Brownsville building where Mr. Sibley lived alone in a studio, his neighbor, Beckenbaur Hamilton, 51, said he had warned the younger man against being so open about his sexuality. Mr. Hamilton, who is also gay, recalled attacks he had suffered in his 20s when going out to clubs, and said that he has recently been overhearing comments on the street about “all these rights” gay people have.
“O’Shae wasn’t afraid of being who he was,” Mr. Hamilton said. “He would defend his friends.”
They loved dancing outside and delighted in drawing a crowd. “But I’d see how people looked at them,” Mr. Hamilton said. “There was a worry in the back of my mind.”
In his video, Mr. Pena described Mr. Sibley as his brother and said the two were “always out and loud.”
“We as a community don’t deserve this,” Mr. Pena said. “We may be gay, but we exist. We’re not going to live in fear. We’re not going to live hiding.”
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