#but if I don’t get treated like a person with actual feelings who is doing her damned best about fucking ANYTHING

[argonautsoul]

“Oh, to be able to be admired, cared for, loved, without needing to do any other thing than existing. No need to fight. Just to care, and nourish one and each other...”

Love isn’t something you feel, though. It’s something you do. And so,

loving someone is loving who they are.

When people feel that they are not understood, it frequently is due to not enough empathy going both ways...

[Text ID: “I would have preferred if you had loved me less and understood me more.”]

Here, one is actually saying: “I was in love with the fantasy relationship I wanted him/her to give me, but s/he wasn't offering me that; (I didn't like the way s/he was treating me)”.

Whatever you understand about your partner is your perspective. It is not what s/he really is. Whatever you attribute to your partner is in relation to you.

True love is based on accepting each other as they are... and you can't love something that you actually don't like... you can't love the other one if you don't actually enjoy the way s/he makes you feel.

Preferences are more about us than the other person, so first, try to give yourself what you are seeking from your date or partner.

Love isn't about trying to change someone to fit our idea of perfect.

What's more,

Forever, one can not fully understand the other one at all. This is the beauty of how they were created. Therefore, there is conflict between them.

Even within ourselves, there are/can be some deep-seated subconscious behaviours and beliefs that we don’t understand.

It is about accepting the whole person, even the parts you don't fully understand or agree with.

People's personalities change and grow over time. As you go through life together, you'll see new sides of each other. True love allows for that growth and accepts the ever-changing nature of your partner, even as their outer personality shifts. 

Any relationship is in a state of change, part of which is continuous knowledge of the other.

“Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.”

 — Fred Rogers

And hence, constant effort is needed to accept and adjust themselves to keep up with the changing lifestyles along the way with the changing society.

It takes time to grow together. And we want the maturity in a relationship that comes with time, the emotional connect that develops over years, that sense of belonging when we barely even know the other person... Apparently, nothing is worth our time, effort, and patience. Not even love. Relationships, however, require energy and participation.

Cognitive biases can be particularly damaging because they distort our perceptions and interpretations of our partners' actions and motives.

Cognitive bias is so difficult to acknowledge, understand, or be aware of within ourselves because we actively protect our beliefs. Sometimes, this means denying truth or new information that comes to us (a la cognitive dissonance).

In addition,

Depressed people don’t have the energy, and if they are caught up in the very common mode of isolation because of their depression they are definitely not participating... sometimes, there is an element of mental illness involved in this arena in general.

Lastly,

We don't really need an intellectual twin who can finish our sentences.

And that level of interconnection isn’t necessary. As long as they treat you appropriately, even if they don’t understand you completely, you can still have a very fulfilling relationship.

Love is a commitment, not about the mushy gushy feelings.

Let the commitment be the beginning of understanding. 

══════☸☸☸══════

Too often, in this culture, we cloud the picture, overanalyze, fear those conscious efforts, and insist that love means something very definable and ultimately acceptable — don’t get sucked into the madness, stay in your true path and please, please find a partner who is similar to you (i.e., hold similar values), who cares about your thoughts and feelings, and genuinely enjoys your company.

And read “The 5 Love Languages” by Gary Chapman. It’s eye-opening to realize that someone may be figuratively shouting their love from the rooftops — but you aren’t “hearing” it. Communication is key, as long as you understand your partner’s language.

.

Margarita Karapanou, tr. by Karen Emmerich, from Rien ne va plus

[Text ID: “I would have preferred if you had loved me less and understood me more.”]

[autolenaphilia]

I’ve talked in a post years before about how male/female socialization is a myth, especially if you argue transfems are “male socialized.” But I’ve read and learned since then, so let’s have another go at it.

Of course what I must recognize is that claims that transfems are male socialized are not good faith arguments, it’s a transmisogynistic canard wielded as a cudgel against transfems. What it is is an accusation that transfems are lacking in the feminine virtues, it’s the old accusation that queer women are too mannish to be proper women. Most often “male socialization” is a claim that we are not demure and submissive enough. It’s a club that taken out whenever we dare disagree with our betters, tme people, or dare assert ourselves in any way. It’s then said that we are “talking over people”, “taking up too much space” or even have “male energy.” This is ubiquitous even in supposedly transfem-inclusive spaces. Even cis women are often falsely perceived as talking too much, due to misogynistic biases, and transmisogynistic biases make this effect even worse for transfems.

But let’s humor the argument for awhile, because I’ve seen transfems internalize the transmisogyny of “male socialization.” And socialization is a real sociological concept, which can be use to lend respectability to the claim that transfems are male socialized.

However actually looking at how socialization is defined reveals the problem with the “male socialization” myth.

Socialization as concept is not simply something that is done to the individual, but actually refers to how the individual internalizes the norms and ideology of the society in which they are raised, “the process beginning during childhood by which individuals acquire the values, habits, and attitudes of a society” as merriam-webster helpfully describes it.

This means the individual’s response to society’s norms defines socialization. It’s not just how people treat you, how you are raised, it’s how you react to how they treat you. And this is equally true if we are to speak of gendered socialization, where a person’s internal gender identity and preferred gender expression, not just their assigned sex by their environnment, defines that person’s gendered socialization.

And it’s obvious that any attempt to “male socialize” transfems failed. If “male socialization” has any meaning it must include that it results in the male individual adopting a male identity. And for transfems, the results speak for themselves. A transfem saying “I was not male socialized, because I’m a woman and not a man” is in itself a valid argument.

The fact that transfems prior to transition can for a long time believe themselves to be male doesn’t mean they were “male socialized” either. Because again, the individual’s own response, both in thought and behaviour to how others treat and teach them is part of socialization. It’s not just the end result that is different from cis men, it’s how we get there too. That’s why some transfems speak of “transfem socialization” because even when we are treated like boys, we have different responses to that than boys and men do, and that is it’s own form of socialization.

The thing is, transfems tend to experience their assigned sex and the masculinity socially expected by them long before their trans realization, as deeply unpleasant. It’s gender dysphoria, but we are not given the words to articulate those feelings. We don’t know that gender dysphoria exists, that transition are an option, or even that trans people exist, except possibly as deluded and perverted men in dresses. So these feelings are instead repressed. This results in dissociation from emotions that are distressing and difficult to understand.

It can often be difficult for us to act according to the norms of masculinity and we are often abused by parents, schools and other children for our femininity.

Now of course there are many boys and men, who are effeminate and gender non-conforming, and are often uncomfortable with the masculinity they are expected to perform. But that just further proves the point that to speak of a monolithic “male socialization” is wrong, because even boys and men vary widely in their responses.

And a central problem with neatly divided male/female socialization, is that while expectations are different depending on assigned sex, we aren’t given separate messages about gender. Basically all children in the same culture are taught the same things about masculinity and femininity, and the misogyny that comes with it. Children who are supposed to be boys are taught what girls are like, and supposed girls are taught what boys are like (and the message is, broadly speaking, girls are inferior to boys).

Trans girls can therefore often internalize the message about femininity, what girls are like, and apply it to themselves, even long before we view ourselves as women. Long before we realize we are trans, that transition is an option, we often feel a painful longing for womanhood, and femininity, tinged with unrecognized dysphoria. The unrealistic beauty standards imposed on women can be especially devastating for trans girls who have internalized transmisogyny. We hold our own bodies to standards that are cisnormative and which are so unrealistic that even cis women can rarely reach them, and it’s used as a tool of repression and self-harm, to tell ourselves why we never could be women. Eating disorders are common among trans women even before transition.

This description of pre-transition transfem lives probably seems surprising to people who never listened to transfems describe their own lives, and this includes other kinds of queer people.

The double standard of how transfems pre-transition lives are described and how basically every other queer group’s closeted lives are described is stark. Like it’s now widely recognized that cis gay people who were closeted and didn’t believe themselves to be gay were suffering in that closet from the self-denial that belief involved. Claims that cis gay people were “heterosexually socialized” and that they enjoyed heterosexual privilege by self-denying in the closet are never made because they are obviously absurd and offensive. But not so for trans women’s own experience of repression and the closet. This is of course rooted in transmisogyny. As Julia Serano pointed out, “AMAB trans people are denied the closet”

[viperify]

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴏꜱɪᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I Appreciate You.

Short summary: After some persuasion, Tom joins you for Christmas dinner. Only then he finds out your parents haven’t exactly treated you well and seizes the opportunity to show you what it means to be truly appreciated.

Warnings: nothing, just fluff (for now…)

A/N: I have entered a bad case of writing block halfway through this, so I cut it short. I AM SORRY. I’ll take a day or two off and write a pt 2☹️

wordcount: 1,6k

Tom and you have been friends for a while ��� or rather study accomplices, as he would call it. Though lately, you have grown closer. Oddly close, at least if you knew Riddle, who wasn’t one to interact with others unless it served a purpose. You have known that from the beginning, so it never really appeared to you why he would be different towards you exactly – but you weren’t going to complain about someone tutoring you after all – someone who was equally as smart as pretty.

“You forgot pearl dust.” he sighs in disappointment, not looking up as he fidgets with his quill. “Tom it’s been two hours, my head is a mess. Let’s take a break?”

His gaze flicks from his quill to your eyes and stares at you briefly before speaking up. “I don’t take breaks. If you want me to keep being generous enough to help you, you do it my way.”

That’s how it goes every single time. You don’t argue against it – you just do what he says. The desperation to become better at Potions is greater than your ego after all and you have also come to notice it is better not to talk back to him. The last time you did, he wouldn’t even speak to you for two weeks after.

Tom clears his throat and you return your focus to the present. “It’s been an unnecessarily long time since you have started staring at me. Focus on your textbook.”

“Right, right! Sorry.” Your cheeks heat up and you repeat the brewing process from the beginning.

After what feels like an eternity, he is satisfied – as much as he could be. Tom obviously is never fully satisfied, always has something to criticize that you didn’t do right, something he says you would need to work on the next time you two meet to study.

There was always going to be a next time.

As you two pack up, you see house elves working on the Christmas decorations just outside the library, putting up a pine tree and some red and golden ornaments. It’s the Thursday before winter break, and you would soon go home to spend the time with your family. They have told you to bring a friend, though all of them have declined so far. You would just go alone. Until – well, you think about Tom.

“Uh, I actually have one more question.” You start, turning to face him. He raises his eyebrows expectantly signalling you to continue. “Soooo, I have been wanting to ask you whether you wanted to join me for Christmas dinner at home. My parents have asked me to bring someone along.”

“We aren’t friends. Besides that, I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

That’s exactly the answer you assumed he’d give, but you weren’t going to give up that easily. Your family has been talking about him often lately, about the Gaunt family, purebloods just like you. All the things they say you don’t understand anyway. It’s been like that since you were born, they always favoured your older brother over you. You have stopped arguing against it.

“Come on, Tom! It’s just a dinner, one evening. I know you don’t usually leave Hogwarts for Christmas break, I just wanted to give you the opportunity to meet my parents. They have been talking about you.”

He contemplates for a moment then. He is aware that his family, at least his mother’s side, has caught people’s attention. Apparently also the Rosiers’. Rosier family, part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It would only be to his benefit to get to know them personally. And he hated admitting it, but lately - he has found himself strangely intrigued by you. A smart girl, who wouldn’t normally need his tutoring, not if he didn’t tell you to come back every week for another lesson.

“I suppose I will think about it. If I decide for it, I will join you at the train station.”

Your lips curl into a bright smile. “Thank you, Tommy! You are the best.”

He sighs. “How often have I told you to stop calling me that?”

“Sorry, sorry! I am just super excited to introduce you. They have been pestering me with questions about your mother’s family.”

You swear you see a slight spark in his eyes at the mention of his mother, though his usual stern expression returns just a second later. “Have a good evening.” he replies and leaves you behind at the library without saying another word.

-

There has not been a single sign of Tom when you board the train. Secretly you have hoped he would come and join you, though as soon as you leave the station you find yourself at peace with the fact you’d be going home alone for the break. The scenery shifts as you look out of the window, a thick layer of snow covering the otherwise green Scottish Highlands. You see deer scavenging for any grass they can find, scraping at the frozen ground with their hooves, the nearby hares’ white winter fur blending in perfectly with the scenery.

There aren’t too many students in your wagon, meaning you get to have a compartment all for yourself. Just like normally, your eyes grow tired, voices around you turning into a blur, and you fall asleep.

It wasn’t long until someone clearing their throat, taking a seat next to you woke you again. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asks, and you turn to face him.

Your face lights up at the sight of the person in front of you. “Tom! I am so happy you decided to come along!”

“I suppose it’s a welcome opportunity to connect with another renowned family.” he replies, and you nod, though slightly disappointed. “Of course.”

The rest of the journey, both of you don’t speak much. It’s a weird energy between you, something you don’t quite recognize. You are glad – as glad as you could be, knowing your family awaits you just outside – when the train arrives at your station. Both of you get off, and your mother’s and father’s faces light up at the sight of, not you, but Tom. They greet him first, ask him how the journey has been.

It’s only when you arrive at home that they ask you to help prepare dinner while Tom’s being shown around the manor. Even at dinner they won’t let him be and you wonder whether it was a good decision to bring him home with you.

In a moment of silence, your mother first looks at you, then at him. A smile forms on her face, something you only rarely get to see and you wonder what may be behind it.

“We are so glad you have decided to join us. Our daughter really couldn’t have chosen a better boyfriend.”

Oh.

You feel your heart drop in your chest at her words. They must have misunderstood the situation. Your cheeks heat up and you see Tom’s face changing into one of confusion.

Trying to save the evening, you quickly try to explain. “No it’s- we are not-“

“I am pleased to hear I am meeting your expectations.”

Tom’s words cut you off, and for a moment you aren’t sure whether you have heard him correctly. You blink a few times and shoot him a confused look, and he smiles at you.

Smiles.

You nod quickly, lowering your gaze onto the plate in front of you as you feel your cheeks heat up. For the rest of the evening, you don’t say much, even when you all gather around the Christmas tree. They ask questions about your relationship, which only Tom answers. He sits next to you and as the night progresses, his hand wanders up your lower back, snaking around your waist. You visibly shiver at his touch but decide to play along.

As soon as everyone has excused themselves to bed, you move away a little, escaping his grip. “Tom, I am sorry, they must have completely misunderstood.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“No really I-“

“Sshhh.” he whispers, his face inching closer to yours then, capturing you in a tender kiss. His hand rests on the back of your head, softly pressing you against him. You inhale deeply as you break apart, your eyes trailing up from his lips to his eyes. It’s only the candles on the Christmas tree that shine a dim light on both of your forms, yet you are able to make out the changed look on his face.

“We shouldn’t.” you murmur, shaking your head.

“I see the way you look at me in the library. And you perfectly know why I want to keep meeting you. Yet both of us are too stubborn to admit it.”

Though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“I just didn’t think you would like someone like me.”

Tom huffs. “You never acknowledge your worth, and I suspect that is what your parents have taught you. They don’t see your potential. They diminish your achievements. Why do you let them?” he asks, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I have stopped caring a long while ago. You know how it is.”

Tom doesn’t reply after that, though his hand continues running up and down your back soothingly. You stay like this for a while, until he slowly turns his head, facing you.

“I will show them what it means to appreciate you.”

His voice is low and controlled as his face is a mere inch away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

“I will show you what it means to be appreciated.”

[afterglowkatie]

sliding into something real | c.f.

caitlin foord x kerr!reader | 1.1k | 'from slide tackling me to sliding in my dms,' + ‘being with you feels like coming home,’

❆♡────୨ holiday season blurb event ৎ────♡❆

‘I thought you two would have your shit together by now,’ A, slightly tipsy, Sam leaned on the table next to Caitlin. You had skipped the pre planned night out after how the match had gone beforehand. Losing a London derby to Arsenal was always going to sour your mood, especially when the person responsible for disrupting your last big chance to at least get the equaliser would be there.

You and Caitlin had mutual crushes on each other, but it had never been anything more than that. Or at least neither of you let it be anything more, you both didn’t even realise that the crush each of you had was mutual. Though it didn’t mean that the longing looks you both gave and the way you’d seek out each other's comfort, especially during national camp, didn’t go unnoticed. 

Sam, who frustratingly knows you better than you know yourself, picked up on the mutual feelings her best friend and younger sister had for each other. You’d skipped the night out and now Caitlin had been caught by your older sister, looking through your old instagram posts and debating on whether she should send you a message.

‘What do you mean?’ Caitlin tried to hide her phone away when she realised who was next to her, but she knew Sam had already seen anyway.

‘Just send her a message,’ Caitlin gave Sam a look, wanting to make sure that she was definitely okay with it. Sam being the main reason Caitlin had been holding back from acting on her feelings towards you, not wanting to cross any boundaries or lose an important friendship with your older sister. Sam rolled her eyes, ‘There’s only so much more I can take when she gets all pouty after showing her a picture of you smiling next to literally anyone else. Don’t get me wrong though, you better treat her well or you will have me to deal with,’ 

Sam left Caitlin to dwell on whether she actually would message you or not. Though she had a little confidence boost knowing your sister would be okay with it. She’d spent too many nights thinking about you and what it would be like to be with you, maybe she could make it actually happen instead of just thinking about it.

I thought you were unstoppable, or do you just like falling at my feet?

You half groaned when the message from Caitlin came through, reminding you of the match earlier, but you felt your heart race when you saw her name on your phone screen. Your cheeks heated up and you bit your lower lip trying to stop the grin that wanted to spread across your face. You felt like a teenager all over, smiling and kicking your feet while your crush was actually talking to you.

From slide tackling me to sliding in my dms.

Very smooth Cait.

Caitlin looked up from her phone, making sure no one was around to see the smile that wasn’t leaving her face any time soon. She’d surely be teased and everyone would try to see who she was texting. So she was thankful everyone else was preoccupied and she could focus on you. 

Smooth just like my tackle.

You rolled your eyes, but laughed a little anyway. It wasn’t often that Caitlin ever had the chance to make a tackle like that on you. Normally not playing near each other on the pitch. 

Keep that up and maybe you won’t get the chance to come here.

Somewhere you got the confidence, sending a bold and kind of risky message, especially considering you’d never really talked to each other like this before. Some conversations border lined it, but you both always stopped before implying something else.

Are you inviting me over?

Caitlin, already thinking of an excuse to leave the night early, not that any of the others would really notice if she left or not. 

Would you like to come over?

‘Thank god,’ were the first words out of your older sister’s mouth when you told her you and Caitlin had gotten together, a few months after those texts which led Caitlin to spending the night and the two of you talking and enjoying each other's company for that entire night and next day. Leading on to more talking and eventual official dates.

Sam ended up being you and Caitlin’s biggest supporter in your relationship. She also liked to take credit for the two of you actually getting your shit together, as she likes to say, and finally becoming official. Even if you did get endless teasing from your teammates when they found out, for going soft for an Arsenal player.

You waved up from the pitch where Caitlin and Sam were sitting. Arsenal had played the day before so she was able to make it to yours to support you. It was nice for you to look up and see your girlfriend sitting in the stands. You’d made a compromise and she would wear one of your Australia jerseys whenever she came to support you and you’d do the same whenever you found yourself at an Arsenal match for her.

As soon as the final whistle sounded, your hands went to your face as you let out a sigh of frustration. You’d not played your best, neither had your team, and Chelsea ended up dropping points to a club you shouldn’t be dropping points to. From the stands Caitlin could tell how hard the match had been for you. Wanting nothing more than to wrap her arms around you and tell you not to worry too much about everything that happened.

Finally you made your way through the stands towards your girlfriend. Sam had already come down, giving you a little hug before pushing you towards where Caitlin was, knowing who you really needed right now.

‘Hey,’ Your voice was small, exhaustion evident on your face. Caitlin reached out, grabbing a hold of your hand before pulling you onto her lap. You laid your head against her shoulder looking up at her, small, tired smile on your face, ‘Thank you for being here. Sorry I couldn’t play better,’

Caitlin frowned a little, wrapping her arms around you a little bit tighter, ‘You always play well and baby you know I love watching you play, even if you’re wearing the wrong colour,’ Caitlin trying to lighten your mood a little, you let out a small chuckle. The two of you always ‘fighting’ over which club was better. Caitlin leaned down, pressing a small kiss to your forehead, then each of your temples, a little one on your nose and peppering kisses all over your cheeks. Your smile widened and you cuddled further into her, turning your head when she went to kiss your cheek so she’d kiss your lips instead. 

‘Being with you feels like coming home,’ You laid your hand on top of where Caitlin’s were resting against your waist. Even after a match that wasn’t an ideal result, you had the comfort of your girlfriend you could come home to. When you were with Caitlin not much else mattered.

[aishabellasbigblogofeverything]

LITERALLY like I was actually inspired by this post to write this:

And like this must be a troll post by a non-Black person but assuming it’s not and it IS serious…what kind of self-loathing is this? How much disdain do you have to have for yourself in your heart to write out this disturbing shit and have anyone take you seriously? Like do you not realize that you’re giving non-Black women an ego boost by being this pathetic? Those girlies are gonna see this post and be relieved that Black girls think this way and are AGREEING with the rhetoric that we are lesser in some way, because it makes them feel better at our expense to think that we are weak and this filled with self-hatred that we will let everyone else treat us like shit and walk all over us, like stand up girly it’s getting pathetic atp lol. One Black girl in the comments even agreed with the “Black girls are less desirable/feminine” rhetoric and a non-Black girl replied “well why don’t Black girls try skin lightning cream?” you guys are literally feeding their hatred and demoralizing view of Black women as ugly and worthless and repulsive and it’s so monstrous tf like y’all seriously don’t realize what you’re doing not just to yourself but to others who look just like you as well, your sisters in arms in the community, like how dare y’all. Like you’re damn right that Black women have a different type of hair than anyone else on the planet but it is because our hair is versatile and defies gravity, it is soft and fluffy and elegant and cute, it is luxurious and voluminous and beautiful. We have the most genetic diversity of any other race on earth. Trying to spin that into something self-hating is just preposterous, I can’t believe it. But then again, anything to feed into the “Black girls are the least desired” complex. Istg some women just cannot be saved.

I agree that we need to continue building up confidence in Black women and girls and show them to take pride in their own beauty and that we can be attractive and feminine and look to each other as role models for love and strength and not try to envy/imitate white/Asian women’s lead, as if they have a monopoly on beauty norms/femininity just because a couple of Reddit nerds say so, or because of societal stereotypes that white women are the epitome of femininity and Asian women are soft, obedient, and meek, which hurts Asian women as well mind you. The men who say this shit are closet pedophiles(seeing as they all say they love Asian women for “looking like little girls” and reject Asian women who don’t fit their loli porn standard) and misogynists who think that femininity is all about being weak, submissive, and sucking a man’s dick.

There are so many communities out there for Black girls to embrace their beauty and femininity, Black girl channels for natural hair regimens and cute hairstyles, Black girls doing makeup on dark skin tones, Black girls wearing cute fashion styles like cottagecore and Lolita and coquette as well as gnc/masc styles if you have that type of swag, Black girls who do cosplay and look fine as hell while doing it, Black girls who draw adorable Black anime characters, etc., like I understand that society often treats us as lesser and like we can only fit into one stereotypical/undesirable box, but the second you step out of there and find what you are into I PROMISE it is out there you just have to find it! Don’t let your race limit you from loving yourself or expressing yourself how you want to, you don’t have to abide by some arbitrary racist beauty norms set by some white incel Reddit dude whose only interaction with Black women is reality tv, degrading online memes, and ebony porn. Add whose only interaction with Asian women is pedo loli hentai and mainstream shonen anime.

I guess the point of all this is to find Black women to admire and see yourself in because that will make you feel better about yourself and feel confident that you are enough and love being a Black woman, rather than crying that you’ll never be as beautiful/cute/girly as a white or Asian woman when we all know that’s not true, Black girls are gorgeous and poppin’ and look good in every style! I wish we could talk about the issues facing us without succumbing to this idea that we’re inherently lesser and unattractive and Blackness is inherently a curse that’s holding us back because it’s just sad and miserable and desperate behavior atp, you’ll always be Black until the day you die so just live with it and learn to accept it.

The Black femininity community very much often does prey on these insecure types with how it often tells Black women that we are inherently unfeminine unless we dive full hog into (white tradwife) hyperfemininity and always look like a perfectly made-up Barbie princess 24/7 and that any sign of Blackness like natural hair/acrylics/AAVE is unfeminine/unattractive, not to mention the intense heteronormativity of it all and how it is often rooted completely in appealing to heterosexual men and often blames Black women for our own masculinization, telling us that the only way for us to be feminine is to be more passive and compliant and “let a man lead” but even so there are still plenty of healthy Black hyperfeminine spaces that aren’t a one-size fits all and are queer-inclusive that I really just wish more Black girls who felt insecure about not being able to do that type of stuff went there instead…or realized that you don’t have to be hyperfeminine to be beautiful and that you can just be who you are and be whoever you want to be and be happy but…idk lol.

This was such a long and unhinged rant and I’m sorry if this wasn’t at all coherent and didn’t address all of your points but you’re right, this attitude always just drags Black girls back and makes us look bad, if you spend all your time on the “I fantasize about raping women and also believe in 14 words” website then of course you’re going to feel miserable, hopeless, and insecure, you need to learn to log off sometimes lol idk. Find spaces that are built for you and support you and stop worrying about what the rest of the world thinks of you and especially whether or not non-Black men are attracted to you and just do your own thing, they only hate you because they see your spark and beauty and try to tear you down, take it as a compliment because they’re just jealous lol. I hope this helps some Black girl out there somewhere who feels bad about herself but yeah, we are beautiful and amazing and awesome and we don’t need the rest of the world to tell us who we are! Period! Tf? 💅🏿

I’m begging Black girls and especially younger Black girls to please stop going on the Internet and complaining about being the least attractive/feminine/desirable and how guys don’t want you and how much you hate being a Black girl and wish you were another race(usually white/East Asian is what I see) so that you could be seen as beautiful/get the guy you want/not hate yourself every time you look into a mirror. Please. Stop doing that shit. I understand the soul-crushing way that Black girls are treated in society, and how insistent the world and people in general are in stripping us of our femininity and beauty and trying to gaslight us into believing that we’re ugly, and because of that it is so so easy to fall prey to the “we’re the ugliest of women and no one will ever love us” mentality. But when you make posts like these, talking down on yourself for being Black and expressing envy towards non-Black women, you are not only shitting on every Black woman out there who looks like you, you’re also giving non-Black girls an ego boost and letting them believe that they really are more attractive and valuable than us and that we’re “the ugly ones” because Black girls themselves are saying it and self-deprecating themselves.

I’m begging you to please stop going on these intensely anti-Black and misogynistic hate sites dedicated to hating on/tearing down women and venting about how being a Black girl is such a curse and a terrible burden and how you’ll never be as beautiful as a white/Asian woman because you have dark skin and coily hair. All you’re doing is putting yourself in harm’s way and validating the way people already think about us while shitting on your fellow Black sisters by painting us all with the “undesirable/ugly” brush. I understand that the rest of the world constantly tells us that we’re ugly/unlovable and less womanly than the rest of the groups. I understand feeling anger, confusion, and frustration at how were treated by people who are supposed to care about us and protect us. I understand feeding into it. But please don’t. Especially not on sites that prey on women’s insecurities and are filled to the brim with people who hate Black women with a seething passion. They’re only going to tell you that you’re right, not comfort you and make you feel better, you can’t rely on these sites for validation. Please talk to your friends and family or a therapist if you feel insecure about your race, and either follow Black female content creators who uplift Black women/girls or get off of social media for the betterment of your own mental health. Please. I’m begging you. 🙏🏿

[gatorbites-imagines]

I have a prompt idea, Trans reader (ftm) in the 1940s being bullied, steve and bucky find reader and help him, start to friends to poly lovers (steve x bucky x reader), fluff with a little angst and soft smut, just an idea

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FTM reader

Headcanons

I don’t actually know a whole lot about the era for trans people, especially in Brooklyn during those years. So, I’m just writing on a feeling and adding what feels right. Have I ever mentioned that pre-serum Steve is one of my favorites?

Writing this actually reminded me of something I wrote forever ago, called party of one, two, three? You can read part 1 and 2 here, if you are interested. I wasn’t really in the mood to write detailed smut, so.

Being a trans guy in the 30s and 40s wasn’t easy, but was anything during that time? Depending on where you were from and when you came out, you might have had the chance to live as a man.

If let’s say you moved to Brooklyn when you were old enough to know that you were a man, and you had always presented as such, then you might have been able to get a job, and if you knew the right people, fake documents.

If you had always lived in Brooklyn, then it was a lot harder, as most just assumed you were a lady who dressed like a lad because you didn’t want to “do your duty” as a woman, or whatever they had on their minds.

Either way, Steve and Bucky were some of the few people who supported you no matter what, if they only knew you as a man, or if you guys had grown up together. If you fit in Steves clothes you could borrow his, and if Steve was too small, well, then bucky had a closet with clothes too.

Being picked on was hard to avoid, in either situation. The first would be because you were such a small, scrawny and feminine guy. The second because you were a lady that needed to be put in her place.

The second was always more dangerous. The first, theyd just rough you up a bit and taunt you a little, but it always ended up as more of a “haha we are just taking the piss”. The second? It felt like the men who cornered you had something to prove, to you or themselves you didn’t know. But they wanted to prove that they could “fix” or “correct” you.

Living in Brooklyn and being a weirdo like you meant you knew how to fight, somewhat at least. Enough to not go down without a fight. But no matter how much you practiced, keeping up with multiple fully grown men was difficult.

If you already knew Steve and Bucky or not, the two would step in when they saw this. Steve first, being the righteous guy he is, would run in swinging. Scrawny arms and wheezing breaths, eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns, the blonde so incredibly enraged at the very idea of someone treating another person this way.

Steve never lasted long though, but luckily Bucky was never far behind. In the end, Steve always looked as beat up as you, and maybe it was because he bruised and bled so easily with how sick he was.

Steve struggling to his feet and holding out a hand to pull you up, eyes still sparkling and teeth bloody as he grinned, was enough to make your heart race.

Bucky at least didn’t look like he was the main victim of your group of attackers. He was a bit ruffled up, sure, but he still looked mostly put together.

It should shock no one that Bucky easily led you and Steve back to his and Steves apartment, where Bucky got to work patching you both up as they made you talk about the guys who did it, and why. Steve because he wanted to go back out there and smack them straight, and Bucky to be on the safer side.

Be it the first or twentieth time they save you from your so-called bullies, Steve and Bucky stayed just as intense and caring. Even when they didn’t have a lot, or Steve was sick, you always felt like you belonged and was as much of a man as them.

When you three started dating it got a little easier. Everyone already knew that Steve Rogers as built like a twig, but would swing until there was blood if he needed too. He was snarling, snapping and as feral as those starving alley dogs. He was as protective as one too, not just of you but Bucky too.

Bucky wasn’t much better, though he hid it more successfully. Everyone thought that Barnes was the charming, sweet talker, who liked to talk it out without fighting. But they were wrong, when it came to you and Steve, Buck could be worse than Steve.

Both your fellas were protective and possessive in their own ways, but you couldn’t say you didn’t feel the same. You wanted to drown the men who antagonized Steve for his height and sickness in the piers. And jealousy reared its hideous head when the pretty ladies fluttered their lashes at Bucky whenever he passed.

The three of you were all a mess, but you were each other’s mess. You and Bucky never saw Steve was just his disease and lack of stature. Steve and you never just saw Bucky as his handsome face and face charm. And they never saw you as a lady, you were as much of a man as them.

The only time it ever became a challenge, your biology being different, was when you guys got intimate. But it was never made a huge problem. There were days when Steve couldn’t get it up because of his health, or where he could even participate because of his lungs. And there were days when you didn’t want to be touched because your body made you sick. You guys just found ways to make it work.

Sometimes you and Steve would just sit back on a chair each, one you’d dragged in from the kitchen, to watch Bucky pleasure himself and show off in bed. It was like your own litter theater, and Bucky really loved to be watched and praised by you two.

Sometimes it was Steve lying in bed carefully touching himself, at times it was just him caressing his own torso and telling you two all his wildest fantasies, his face and chest bright red from his flush.

And there were even times when it was you, when dysphoria wasn’t swallowing you whole and howling that your body was wrong. You never looked at yourself when you would be with them, but having two men with their own naked bodies made it harder to focus on your own.

Some days you would imagine that their body was yours, and the dysphoria wouldn’t be so bad. It also helped that Steve didn’t grow as much body hair as Buck, meaning Steve was almost as naturally hairy as you. Part of you just basked in the fact that one of your partners looked like you in that way.

The days you were fine with touch, Steve and Bucky never let it go to waste. You couldn’t fuck them like you three all wanted, they didn’t really have toys like that at the time, or at least accessible to you three. This just meant you guys had to get creative.

God gave humans hands and fingers for a reason, and you all had mouths. You always wore so many layers anyways, so the many hickeys your lovers left on you were easily hidden. The chest was always off the table though, and neither of the men complained.

Bucky was the best at praise, so naturally gifted that Steve would joke that he should become some pulp writer, that he should write those cheap sappy romance novels the ladies liked.

This didn’t mean that Steve wouldn’t praise you and Buck, he did, just in his own ways. The blonde always struggled with forming the right words and getting them out, but his sketchbook filled with pages and paged of you and Buck was all the praise you needed.

They would be good partners. Neither have a label for what you guys are, or what their sexualities are, they just know you three love each other, and that’s all that matters.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

(not so) secret santa | jww

(where you think you're surprising your office crush and he's the one that surprises you)

pairing: wonwoo x reader genre: office!au/coworkers | straight fluff rating: e is for everyone (but this blog is still 18+) word count: ~1.8k warnings: mentions of eating/drinking? and an office holiday gift exchange, that's it

note: merry christmas @highvern! i just thought that you deserved a little treat since you worked so hard on the secret santa collab for @camandemstudios 💕 special thank you to @ugh-yoongi for the office crush concept and the recipe idea. also thank you to @gyuswhore for some brainstorming. i tried to keep to the collab guidelines but it's fine because it's not technically part of it. love you cam!

“Hao I need your help,” you say quietly to your work bestie. 

Despite the hush of your voice, it seems to carry more than it should. Or maybe that’s just your nerves over what you’re about to ask. Minghao turns away from what he’s working on and raises one of his perfectly manicured eyebrows at you. He’s really got that down and you hate him a little for it.

“What could you possibly need now?” he asks with a sigh.

“It’s about the office gift swap,” you say, quieter still this time. 

“Need a little pointer? Maybe some fashion advice?” he asks sympathetically and you swat at him. That makes him crack a smile where nothing else has.

“No, I need to trade,” you say.

This happens every year in the office. The picks are random and nobody is supposed to know. But, inevitably, several people end up swapping for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they’re looking for a specific person. Sometimes they have a present in mind and their current person won’t like it. It could be anything. This year, you’re the one that’s looking to swap and you’re kind of hoping your bestie won’t ask you exactly why. 

“Who do you have?” he asks, which is a little surprising that he’s not asking who you want. 

“Mina,” you say immediately. He might be a complete pain in the ass, but you know that you can trust him. Nobody knows more about what’s going on in the office than him and nobody keeps their mouth shut tighter. 

Without another word, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper that you recognize as the slips for the gift swap. One hand holds the paper out to you while the other opens for you to deposit your own paper in it. You’re just confused looking at him because you haven’t said anything other than who you have.

“I don’t think you get it, I want…” you start and he cuts you out.

“Just take the paper and then see if you still need to say anything to me,” he says.

It’s unusual, even for him, yet you do as he says. You deposit the slip with Mina’s name on it into his hand and take his piece of paper. When you open it, somehow everything makes more sense. Kind of, at least. It’s the person you were actually hoping to get. 

“How did you…” you ask, trailing off at the end.

“You’re not that subtle,” he says with his own version of an affectionate smile. 

“Thanks, Hao. I owe you!” you say in a low voice.

“I’ll add it to your tab,” he says and turns back to his work.

The best part about the gift swap at your work is that it’s up to each person how they handle giving their gift. There’s no big party where everyone has to swap in front of everyone else. It’s a little non-traditional, but also helpful for people that are a little more introverted. Some people expressed it being easier to just leave the person’s gift at their desk instead of going through some whole big thing. 

That suits you just fine. It gives you the opportunity to plan something a little more personal to exchange your gift. Which is how you end up at lunch on a day off with one of your coworkers and feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. You try to tell yourself that you’re confident and he is just a man. But, you also have the fattest crush on him and it makes you a little stupid. (A lot stupid, actually, but that’s your own business.) 

Wonwoo comes walking in looking the coziest you’ve ever seen him. It makes you very glad that you got to the restaurant first because this is worth it. The smile on his face when he notices you is soft and it makes your heart skip a beat. He pushes up his glasses and shakes some snowflakes out of his hair. By the time he’s at the table, he’s removing his jacket to reveal a soft sweater. You take a minute to remind yourself that he’s just a man before putting the smile on your face. What’s even better, you don’t say anything stupid.

He lets you make it through ordering before he brings up the obvious. “I’m happy you asked me to lunch, but I was a bit surprised.” 

You try to play it off and shrug a bit. “We haven’t gone out to lunch in a while like this and sometimes it feels like we have to rush during work. I just figured…” 

“Why not ask me out to lunch to give me my Secret Santa gift?” he asks knowingly. You, being the coolest person in the world, choke on the sip of your drink that you take.

“What?”

“I was sure that Minghao had me because he was asking questions about gaming stuff and then Mina told me about the beautiful scarf that he got her.”

“And that means you think that I have you?” You’re not really sure you follow his logic even if he is right.

Wonwoo only shrugs. “He’s your best friend. I thought he was asking for you. Or maybe he had me and trade.” 

“He did have you, but I wanted to switch,” you admit for some reason completely unknown to you. 

“You did?” This seems to catch him off guard considering he seems two steps ahead.

Since he wants to bring it up now, you figure that you might as well give him his present. You pull the box out of your bag and hand it over to him. He eyes it for a second before reaching out to take it. His face looks adorably perplexed when he lifts it.

“This doesn’t feel like something gaming related,” he says finally.

You huff out with an eye roll. “Why don’t you just open it?” 

He looks amused at your tone and goes to work at opening the paper. He takes a very different approach to you and unwraps it gently instead of pulling it all off. But then, his eyes go a little wide at the gift. It’s hard to read, at least for a moment. Does he like it? Did you do too much? Are you being too obvious?

“How did you…?” His eyes are filled with affection. Like nobody has ever given him something like this and it catches you off guard. 

“Do you like it?” you ask, a little unsure. Mostly just to fill the space.

“I love it. How did you find it?” he asks. 

“I love fragrances and there are a few small shops that I go to. It’s kind of a hassle because you have to search through the shops, but that’s fun for me. I overheard you telling Hao that you couldn’t find this one anywhere,” you say like it’s nothing. 

“And then you traded to get me just to give it to me?” he asks. 

“I just thought…” you start and he shakes his head. “Actually, hang on a second. I have to run out to my car and I’ll be right back,” he says.

Wonwoo is up from the table before you can even react to what he’s saying. Even though you know this is just how his brain works, it takes a second for your heart to catch up with that knowledge. It still feels weird to be sitting there by yourself when the server comes back with food, though. When he turns back up, his cheeks are a little rosy from the trip outside and you can’t miss that he’s holding a larger box. 

“I’m sorry to run out. I just didn’t want to bring this in if it was really just a lunch,” he says and that doesn’t really explain anything.

“Did you get me in for the gift exchange too?” you ask, confused. 

For the first time, he looks a little shy. He looks down for a second like he’s preparing himself. “No, I just really wanted to get you a present. Open it, please.” 

You’re skeptical because it’s kind of big and clunky. And, on top of that, you’re confused about why he felt like he should get you a present when you’re not really that close. Or not as close as you’d like to be. When you tear off the wrapping paper, your first reaction is to laugh. There’s a cute little popcorn maker with a container of kernels along with it. But what really catches your eye is the seemingly homemade mustard to go along with it. It probably looks like the weirdest gift to anyone else. To you, though, it’s perfect. 

“How on Earth did you come up with this?” you ask through a laugh.

“You hate it,” he says looking a little dejected. 

“No, no, no,” you assure him and calm back down. “No, it’s perfect. But, I’ve had people give me such a hard time about popcorn dipped in mustard so I can’t imagine you just thought of it.”

“I actually talked to Minghao about what you might like,” he says sheepishly and your eyes go wide. 

Leave it to your traitorous bestie to know that your crush had something like this planned and not even tell you. Of course he’s just sitting there like a little matchmaker. “That little shit. When did you ask him?”

“Before we picked people for the gift swap. I didn’t even think of trying to switch for you,” he says. “It seemed like a good way to say that I kind of like you, especially since you traded to get me.” 

There’s something so matter-of-fact about the way he says it. Like it’s just another thing to say. The weather has been really cold. The food is amazing. Work is a pain. Oh, and by the way, I like you. Wait a minute. Your brain finally catches up to what Wonwoo said. It must be clear on your face, too, because he looks amused. 

“Did you say you kind of like me?” you ask and that actually makes him laugh. 

“Why else would I get a recipe for homemade mustard from Minghao just to surprise you for Christmas?” he asks like that should all be obvious.

“You made it yourself?”

“I had a little bit of help from my roommate because he’s much better in the kitchen, but it’s still homemade,” he says. 

“I cannot believe Hao set this all up. You’re over here planning a whole ass present for me and Minghao is letting me stress over whether or not you’re going to like the present I got. And making fun of me for having a crush while you’re over here making me mustard from scratch.”

“Is that really how you’re going to tell me that you like me too?” he asks, impossibly amused by your grumbling. 

“Can we have a do over?” you ask and he smiles at you.

“As many as you want.” 

i hope you like it and that you're surprised!

[milkywaybesties]

i wrote. many words. help. 1299. uhhhh

here you go! take some lhsau gay people! (more below the cut)

Jimmy was staring.

He couldn’t help it. Him and Scott were eating lunch, sitting where they normally did in the grass outside the school. Normally, no one else was around, but today some of the other kids were messing about outside. Skizz, BigB. And Tango.

The three were playing some game with sticks on the floor while they ate their lunches. Or at least that was Jimmy’s theory. He couldn’t see very well from where he was. Or maybe he could, if he had actually been paying attention. Instead, he was mesmerized by something else.

Tango was laughing.

And maybe, it wasn’t that normal that Jimmy was distracted so easily by one of his friends laughing. But Tango’s laugh just made him happy. The giant, unapologetic grin that came with it. The mischievous look on his face as he took the pile of sticks Skizz had accumulated. 

So maybe Jimmy was staring. Maybe it might’ve seemed weird. But Tango was never just some friend anyway. They were his rancher! One of his best friends. And sure, maybe when the two were squished together on the couch at the Halloween party, and he could feel just how warm Tango was, Jimmy was panicking a little bit, but that didn’t mean—

“Hello? Earth to my wonderful boyfriend?” A hand waived in front of his face. 

Jimmy turned to look at his partner. “Huh?”

Scott let out a light laugh and asked, “You haven’t been listening to a single word I’ve said, have you?”

“No, no, I was listening! You were saying, uhm… ah.”

“Uh huh,” Scott responded knowingly, “So, you and Tango, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Jimmy tried to play it off. How was he supposed to tell his boyfriend that he might’ve been crushing on another man? Really, Jimmy wasn’t being a good partner. Being mesmerized by someone else’s laugh. Sure, Tango was great, but Jimmy loved Scott too much to be acting like this. Like a cheater.

“You should ask him out. He’s cute. And a nice guy,” Scott suggested.

Jimmy was flabbergasted. Scott seemed genuine. But what sane person would tell their partner to ask another person out? He must have been joking. Or teasing.

But Scott never did seem sane anyway.

“Yeah, yeah…” Jimmy laughed, playing it off again, treating it as the joke it surely must have been.

“If you don’t ask him out I will,” Scott said deadpan, before seeing the confused look on his boyfriend’s face and continuing, “I’m serious. You ask him out or I will. I’ll get the bragging rights.”

“Wh- But, we’re already dating. What do you mean ‘ask Tango out?’”

“Well. You like Tango, clearly. I’m pretty confident he likes you back. So you should ask him out.”

Jimmy thought he understood now. This must be some sort of test. If he agrees, Scott breaks up with him.

Scott, clearly sensing his discomfort, asked a question with a smile on his face.

“Jimmy, do you know what polyamory is?”

“I think I’ve heard the word,” Jimmy answered, “But I’m not sure what it means. I think Joel said something about polyamory at one point?”

“Joel is definitely polyamorous,” Scott confirmed, “The man has some sort of harem, I swear.”

“What… what is polyamory?”

Scott’s smile widened. “Someone who is polyamorous is basically someone who wants to date multiple people at the same time,” he explained, “I’m polyamorous. I’ve had crushes while in relationships, and while I’ve never ended up dating two people simultaneously, I have considered it. And it seems like you might be, too.”

“Oh,” Jimmy responded, one sound worth a million thoughts and questions, “So… I’m allowed to like both you and Tango?”

“Definitely,” Scott reassured, “Actually, it might simplify things for the two of us a little bit. I love you, Jimmy, and I like Tango, too.”

“Really?” Jimmy said, shocked.

“Mhm,” his partner nodded, “He’s actually really cute.”

Jimmy sighed, “Right?! I swear, he laughs and I just… deflate.”

“Seriously,” Scott laughed.

“So,” Jimmy rerailed the conversation, “I might be… polyamorous?”

“Yes,” Scott said, “And if you want to date other people at the same time as me, I’m fine with it. As long as there is some discussion between us first.”

“Of course,” Jimmy agreed, “And… you can date other people too. That sounds good to me.”

The two were giggling at the awkward tone of Jimmy’s words when they heard an approaching voice.

“Hey guys!” Tango said with cheer, carrying his pile of sticks in his arms, “What are you two lovebirds talkificating about?”

“Oh, I was just explaining the concept of polyamory to Jimmy,” Scott said, with no shame.

“Scott! That was a private conversation!”

“Mhm,” he hummed in faux sympathy. “Anyway, Tango, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, we were gambling with sticks,” they said excitedly, “I won! If you can’t tell.”

“Oh, good job!” Scott began to subtly elbow Jimmy in the side, “What does winning sticks get you anyway?”

“Why, bragging rights of course! Also Skizz is driving me home for a month now. Of course, he would’ve done that anyway, but it’s funnier to say that it’s for the bet.”

“It always is,” Scott agreed, “But I would’ve gambled for something better. Maybe his firstborn.”

“Y- Yeah,” Tango laughed. “Problem is I’m basically Impulse and Skizz’s firstborn, so that would be a bit problematic.”

“Fair point,” they agreed, before turning the conversation in a completely different direction. “Jimmy has a question to ask you.”

“I do?!” Jimmy yelped. Scott looked at him expectantly. “Uhm- right, yeah! Tango, did you ever figure out what problems the math homework was supposed to be?”

“Oh yeah, I think it was—” Tango started to respond, before Scott cut him off.

“That was not the question I meant actually,” they corrected.

“Well, I’ve got no idea what question you do mean, then,” Jimmy lied. He was not asking Tango out. No way.

“Well, I’ll ask it then,” Scott said. “Tango, do you want to go out with me sometime?”

“Scott!” Jimmy shouted, panicked.

“Wh- huh?” Tango stammered, “Aren’t- aren’t you two- datificating? What do you mean? Me going out with you?”

“We are,” Scott said, “But we want to date you, too. Right, Jimmy?”

Jimmy realized they were too far into this to back out without making it worse. “Yeah, we would,” he admitted nervously, “You’re— you’re a really cool guy, Tango, and I didn’t know polyamory was a thing until like five minutes ago, but now that I know I can like you without feeling bad about it because of my relationship with Scott, I think— yeah.”

Tango seemed shocked and flustered.

“And I think you’re cute, too,” Scott flirted shamelessly, “I may not be as close with you as Jimmy is, but I can appreciate a kind and handsome person when I see one.”

Tango was blushing bright red now. Jimmy could almost feel the heat coming off of him. “You guys, you two— datificaters— want me to date you too?” After receiving two very eager nods, he continued, “I- I’d like that I think. I’ve liked you two for a while now, but I didn’t know if either of you was polyamorous, or if you liked me like that anyway, but if you are, and if you do… I think we could. Do something sometime.”

“Yeah!” Jimmy said excitedly, “We could… uhm. I’m not that great at date ideas.”

“We can figure something out,” Scott said, the bell ringing, signifying the end of lunch, “But for now, can we agree that the three of us can go out together sometime?”

A resounding and excited “Yes” came from his two companions, with wide smiles on their faces, before the three headed their separate ways to class, fantasizing about the date to come.

[neurospicyyy]

Y’all stop romanticizing and/or dismissing ocd and adhd, it’s not a joke. That’s stuff we have to live with. Thanks. 👍

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[flashhwing]

I’m here to say that you may absolutely express negativity about veilguard to me as long as it’s not stupid. hate on it for real reasons, of which there are plenty, most of which I’m ignoring because of the hype but would be glad to discuss in a civilized manner. no forced positivity in this zone this is a safe space. unless your criticism is dumb as fuck then I will point and laugh

[samuraisharkie]

that virtualtoybox person literally told me they aren’t reading what I said and then tried to talk to me w about as much in their tags lol. i never understand people that go ‘I’m not reading all of that but you should read what I have to say” bc like. imagine how infuriated ur gonna get when that response is leveled right back at you? and judging by their tags they didn’t read past my very first line. bc they started comparing animals and animal rights to eugenics which is EXACTLY what I was saying is extremely dangerous to do. That’s exactly how people start calling things that happen to animals a ‘Holocaust’ and I’m positive such a statement is made in that book they told me to read. I’m disabled too. I know what I’m talking fucking about too. In the animal section, I for SURE know more than you do! Because if you knew and truly cared about animals and their welfare, you wouldn’t be talking like PETA. Here’s a trick to other disability activists: learn about animal welfare by volunteering on farms and educating yourself on breeders and the industry rather than getting involved in PETA! And another critical trick: NEVER compare animals to people! That’s exactly what the freaks that think any living thing with a deformity that should die are doing. These people would clutch their pearls the moment they hear farms cull undesirable animals bc they can’t afford to keep every single one and have to streamline their breeding and raising to what will help keep the farm running. That doesn’t mean these farmers want to do the same to people, because the animal is NOT a person and doesn’t live like one. Our lives are not even remotely comparable! People like OP are the people that keep a wild bird with an amputated wing alive bc in their mind it would be insinuating all amputees should die if the bird is put down, and next thing the bird is on the Dodo as inspiration porn. Duex Face is an exception to two headed animals, not the rule. Don’t tell me to do my research when you’re spouting talking points from people that have caused more problems for animals as a whole second only to the commercialization of animal industry. Maybe you need some research (field research) instead! They’re going to block me and I’m assuming that’s why I can’t rb the post anymore even if I wanted to (like I said I didn’t want to start a fight so like. I’m not going to be yelling and acting like an asshole. I swore a bit in the tags initially bc I feel very strongly about how animal rights activists have fucked up disability activism by acting like there’s equivalency in our existences, but that’s not targeted. Most was going to respond telling them that if they feel this strongly they need to be reading more about the animal industry rather than relying on people that are in no way experts on animals talking as an authority on them, and using that to tie with their human rights activism as if animals rights and humans rights are even remotely the same in any way. Whatever though at least the tags are there if anyone who cares enough actually reads them and thinks about them. Will most likely just attract militant vegans and ARAs like the op but whatever)

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[whirlinglikeaballet]

.

[vogelmeister]

been feeling mixed on some of my friends recently

[grayintogreen]

Things my customers have cussed at me about today with the fury of belligerent nobility:

- “I saw your truck backing into the back of the store but I simply HAD to park so instead of waiting for the truck to finish backing in properly I parked in the back and now the truck has blocked me in and don’t you understand this is YOUR problem and not my problem! I have ice cream in the car and my kids are at home!”

- “half of the [your company] stores in town are remodeling and this is pissing me off because I have to go out of my way to your store. No I won’t go to a different store. They’re crooks.” (Our company is absolutely sadistically crooked in ways Wal-Mart couldn’t dream of but go off.)

-“this better ring up the same way it does in the store across town.”

- [doesn’t bag a big item because were told not to] “uh you better put that in a bag. I’m not carrying that.” (You could have just said “please put that in a bag”)

-[multiple people yelling about having to be carded]