#feels like im coddling myself too much

[kimmkitsuragi]

i kinda gave up on myself for today my brain is kinda on the floor dying

[snekdood]

i worry a lot about some transfems and its not me trying to be like "im better than you" or some shit its bc some of them remind me of me when i was a kid and new into being considered a girl/woman and being really naive thinking people would treat me better than they would- like i knew people were gonna be shitty but i wasnt prepared for the sheer amount of dehumanization and being reduced to just a sex object... idk... I just want some of you out there to be careful...

[badcountryofficial]

I'm so lucky I realized all I did after my first long term relationship and not like...multiple in

[artdcnaldson]

i want older dilfy art to call me kiddo while he fucks me... IM SORRY

-🐞

🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ you get it!!

TW: Dubcon due to no verbal consent given, but both parties are VERY enthusiastic

But yeah… being the cute little babysitter he and Tashi hire!! He calls you kiddo conversationally, just a way he tries to remind himself how young you are. He’s all hey, kiddo, and how’s college, kiddo? You really are so young— in college, can’t even drink legally yet. That doesn’t stop him from wanting you so bad. For waking up hard and drenched in sweat beside his wife after he’s dreamed about fucking your sweet pussy.

You’re a fan, you watch his matches. After you’d been working for them for a month, you shyly brought out a shirt for him to sign. He fantasized about you wearing it to bed with nothing beneath for fucking days after, jerked his cock raw imagining your body beneath the oversized fucking merch.

But he shouldn’t. You’re a kid. You’re too young. You're begging for it.

There you are— sitting on the sofa while you wait for Art to call his driver to take you home. He coddles you too much, wastes his own resources on you. His driver, his black card, anything you want. Your pretty legs are tucked under your body, beneath the hoodie of his you wear.

Sorry, Mr. Donaldson, I just got cold and you said to help myself to whatever I need.

It makes sense that you're freezing. You show up in tiny little athletic shorts and big tee shirts. Kind of like Tashi used to wear, back in college. He supposes some things don't change. It also makes sense because he keeps the house frigid so he can leer at the hard bud of your nipples poking through your shirts. Also like Tashi. Whatever, it's his house, he can do what he wants.

You look so tiny in his clothes, pretty and young. Swamped in the fabric, letting your scent mingle with his. He wants to bury his face in the fabric, breathe deep. He wants to fuck you with his hoodie on, pin you down on the couch, tug your panties to the side, and sink right in. You’d get so wet, he’s sure of it. Cream around his cock so much that it would sound fucking obscene.

“Mr. Donaldson?” You break his train of thought, smiling pretty over at him. “Are you calling your driver?”

No. “Yeah,” he says, and grabs his phone from his pocket. His thumbs fumble with his passcode, and you laugh softly as you watch him struggle. Like it’s a game, like you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

He feels the soft weight of your hand on his thigh— timid, testing. Your fingers flex, dimpling his thigh through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. He looks down before he thinks to look at your face. Pretty, manicured nails, a purity ring that’s clearly just for decoration. Only inches away from the spot where he’s tenting the fabric of his pants.

When he finally tears his eyes away to meet your gaze, you look at him through wide eyes and pretty lashes. “Do you have to?”

Words fail him. He swallows hard, tries to think of the many things he should say. I’m married. You’re the babysitter. You’re too young for me. I’m happily married. I’m married. Your pretty hand palms him through the cotton fabric of his pajamas and he lets out a helpless groan.

“Fuck, kiddo—“ It slips out like nothing, and you smile wickedly at the words, taking it as encouragement to keep going, coaxing him to full hardness. “You’ve gotta— ngh— stop—”

But thinking that doesn’t stop him from bucking up into the warmth of your hand, seeking that friction as you smile softly up at him. “Do you want me to?” You ask, grinding the heel of your palm against his cock. He groans, head falling against the back of the couch as his dick kicks in interest.

He doesn’t want you to stop, but he needs you to, so badly. “I’m too old for you,” he pants. He lifts his hips so you can tug his pajamas and briefs down his legs. “I’m— mmm— I’m married.” He can’t stop himself, he needs you to get a clear head and realize that fucking the married father of the kid you’re babysitting is wrong.

But you won’t. God, you won’t. You’ve been fucking aching for it since the first night on the job, when he handed you a check and patted your back and thanked you for taking good care of his girl.

You knew he was married, you didn’t care. There were plenty of movies about married men fucking their nannies, plenty of stories in gossip magazines about rich and famous guys doing it. Besides, Tashi’s away, Art’s lonely. Look how hard he gets just from sitting next to you! Someone has to take care of him while she’s gone.

He’s hot in your grip— pulsing and dribbling precum. When your thumb sweeps over his tip to gather it, he groans and bucks into your grasp. You smile like you’ve won a prize and continue the persistent glide of your hands along his length.

“You’re so big,” you say, like you’re surprised by it. He’s definitely bigger than your ex boyfriends— longer, thicker. An insistent heat pools between your thighs, slick and dampening the cotton of your panties. His cheeks flush when you compliment his size, and you follow his half-lidded gaze to where he’s watching your small hand pump along his cock. Oh. He’s so easy.

“I don’t know if you’ll even fit, Mr. Donaldson.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He slings an arm across his eyes, like covering them could change what’s actively happening. “Fuck, kiddo, you can’t say things like that.”

You draw your lips into a pout and sling your leg over his lap, so you’re settled firm and warm and alive, right above where he wants you. “Why not?” You ask, leaning in to nuzzle right at his jaw. He pants hot against your ear. “You wonder about it, don’t you? How you’d ever manage to stuff your cock inside of me when I’m so small and tight down there.”

His hand is fisted into the sofa cushion— you have to pry it off, and up. His hand fits between your legs easily, like it belonged there. Thick fingers pressed against the damp cotton shielding your pussy from him. He moans pathetically. “Jesus,” he groans. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

His gaze fixes on the tug of your bottom lip between your teeth, the coyness in the tiniest action. But your mouth falls open as he presses his fingers a little harder, feels the saturated fabric mold against your cunt. “Ah— yeah— just… to the side—“ You gasp. Your thighs tremble where you hold yourself up, as he hooks two fingers in the damp cotton and pulls it to the side to reveal your pretty little pussy.

A pretty gasp escapes your lips as his thumb traces the line of you, from your twitching hole, desperate to be filled, up to your aching clit. All of that youthful bravado disappears the second he touches your cunt where you need, replaced with an all-consuming, primal need. “Please, please—“ You gasp.

He could say no. He should say no. He should pull your panties back into place, fix your shorts, and send you on your way with his driver. But he doesn’t. “Hold your shorts to the side,” he says, and you obey immediately, like you’ve been compelled to. Your pretty fingers hook into the nylon fabric, gather up the cotton of your panties too, and you tug them so he can have full access to your cunt.

“C’mere, kiddo,” he coos, tugging you closer,so you’re just barely hovering over his cock. You’re panting, breath shaky from anticipation as you grind your hips down, eyes fluttering at the tiniest bit of stimulation. “That’s it. Just relax for me.”

The press of his cockhead against your entrance makes you whine softly. Your hole twitches, pulsing, begging for more. The sound that you make when the first inch sinks inside is like pure fucking music— the way your brows knit and your free hand grabs at his shoulder to stay grounded. He stops moving, he lets you do the work.

And— Jesus— you’re fucking tight. He feels you squeezing around him like a vise, like your pussy was made to milk him dry. Soft, whimpery gasps fall from your lips alongside your staccato breaths, your face a vision of something along the lines of pain and pleasure. He mouths at your jaw, mumbling against your skin. “You’ve almost got it, kiddo, just a little more.”

You whine at that, brow furrowed in concentration as you finally take him to the hilt, so you’re fully seated on his cock. You look drunk on it, on him. He glances down and looks at where your pussy flares open to accommodate him and feels dizzy with the need to hold you in place and fuck into the wet, sucking heat of your cunt.

“Fuck, I’ve gotta move,” he groans. You nod breathlessly. “Can you take it? Tell me you can take it.”

A moment’s hesitation, but you nod. “I can— I can take it.”

He plants his feet and holds you by your waist, keeping you where he wants you, as he pulls out and drives back in, burying himself deep. Your moan is strangled, muffled in the fabric of his tee shirt as you bite down. He relishes in your pretty noises with each rough thrust back in, in the wet smack of his balls against your pussy, and the slick sounds of dripping, sticky arousal. Your body jostled each time he bottoms out, eyes rolling back.

This is what you’ve wanted, what you’ve been craving. Art Donaldson all to yourself, if only for the night. He’s not going to last long— not when it’s you and you’re so tight and hot around him— but you aren’t either. Clumsy, shaking hands toy with your clit as he drives himself in again and again and again. “That’s it,” he groans. “Touch yourself like that. God, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight, kiddo, fuck—“

You cum with a muffled cry into his shoulder, walls spasming and gripping his cock tight as you finish. Slick, creamy arousal circles the base of his cock, makes everything sound stickier and more obscene. He fucks into you, panting and groaning the most delicious sounds as he lets your walls milk him for all he’s worth. One, two more deep thrusts and he’s done for— balls drawing up as he spills hot and thick into your cunt.

You’re limp in his arms, all tired out. A soft whine escapes your lips as he pulls out, leaving you empty and dripping with his spend. He’s quick to pull your panties and shorts back into place, making sure that nothing drips and makes a mess before he tugs up his own clothes. You laugh breathlessly as he lets you wrap yourself around him like a koala, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Can I go home tomorrow?” You mumble, nosing at his throat.

He rubs your back. “Whatever you want, kiddo.”

[trashmouth-richie]

for the hih bonus features can we get eddie x tooty first fight after everything happened 🥹💗

anon🫡🫡 i have been wanting to write something like this for such a long time, i hope you like it. ❤️

masterlist — one year of hih anniversary

you weren’t used to this. 

  the doting, the constant reassurance to see if you were okay. more doting. always a calm voice. Eddie cared—loved you bigger than anyone ever has, and you loved him equally as much.

  but something dragged, crawled against your skin in piercing talons when he treated you as if you were helpless, as if you weren’t capable of doing things on your own. 

  it came out in a snap. a bitchy tone that eddie hadn’t heard since the early days of being your roommate. 

  it startled him. and he froze, not sure if you were serious. so he looked at you with hurt eyes. “what?”

  “i can cut my own fucking steak, eddie.” 

  steve stopped with his lips pressed to his wine glass, scared to move, eyes wide bracing for the car crash that would take place across from the dining room table. 

  eddie sets the knife down, slides your plate back over to you, “just trying to be nice, baby.” 

  with a huff, and a screeching scratch of the chair carving the wood floor under your weight, you throw the cloth napkin onto the porcelain plate, leaving the room in a quick stomp. 

  steve whistles low, “i know those stomps, you’re in the dog house man,” he takes a generous sip of his wine, wiping his face with the back of his hand, “sleep on the pullout in the basement tonight… it’s not too uncomfortable.” 

  eddie rolls his eyes, throwing a dinner roll into steve’s chest, “you’re not helping dickwad.” 

  “easy” steve tries, “better go find out what you did wrong.” 

  “fuck.”

  he finds you fuming, wearing a path in the carpet in your shared room at steve’s, tears welled but not ready to fall. 

  “babe?” eddie asks, shutting the door quietly, unthreading his chain wallet from his jeans setting it on the dresser, “are you… okay?”

  “jesus christ eddie!” you snap, “i’m fine— more than fine!” 

  eddie looks at you blankly, “you don’t look fine.” 

  “oh yeah? of course when it comes to me, you have all the answers, huh?”  

  “the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

  im okay eddie! i don’t need you to constantly ask if im feeling okay, or if im comfortable or if i need anything!” 

  “thats what boyfriends do, babe.” 

  “No— no no no no!” you say pulling at your hair, frustrated beyond recognition, angry tears falling, “you treat me like i’m made of glass, like one step the wrong way and i’ll break! ever since i’ve gotten out of the hospital you’ve treated me like a fucking porcelain doll!” 

  “you almost died, remember that?” eddie says defensively, peering down at you, “i’m never going to forgive myself, or forget what happened, tooty—” his voice breaks but he swallows it down. 

  “we can’t keep living in the past eddie! it happened, it’s over with, i’m not a fucking little kid!” 

  he’s yelling now, voice angry and filled with sad rage, “i won’t forget! every single day— every time i look at you i think of what would have happened if i was there… how i could have stopped him!” he runs a hand through his hair in defeat, bottom lip trembling.

   “Fuck, i’m sorry for coddling you, baby, really i am— but right now.. the only thing— the only fucking thing— that keeps me from breaking down and wondering what a loaded gun tastes like—is taking care of you.”

  he grunts at the weight of you flying into him, holding him tight and sobbing into his chest, he kisses your head, his own cheeks wet, as he whispers, “ i’m just trying to makeup for what I couldn’t do that night, baby. ” 

  you kiss him deep smashing your lips to his, peppering i’m sorry’s all over his skin, pulling him onto the bed with you. 

  he’s silent when he cries, sniffling every once in a while as you comb through his hair, his body on yours. 

  you’ve been rubbing slow circles into his scalp. and his tears turn to small kisses

  “it wasn’t your fault eddie, it never was,” you whisper lifting his head in your hands and looking him in the eyes, “i love you.” 

  his face is red, eyelids swollen, “how? how can you love me after that?” 

  you press your lips to his, speaking the only truth that kept you from screaming into the void from wanting to let the grief swallow you whole,  “because you showed up.” 

[intheholler]

Do you have any tips for being more comfortable using your natural accent in front of people? I was bullied for it as a kid and scrubbed my accent away through teenhood. As an adult, I feel like I still have to put on a neutral accent so people at work won't judge me. I told one of my old bosses that I was from Appalachia and he went on about how he'd seen do many documentaries on Appalachia and what good people we were, but also added that "Wow! I never would have known. You don't have an accent at all. You're so well-spoken!" and it felt bad. I think he had good intentions, but it made me feel like a zoo animal. I always see comments on other Appalachian folks' posts about their accents too, and there's always a handful of jerks who have to say something about their intelligence or make an incest or drug addict "joke".

It all hurts a lot and makes me self-conscious, but I don't want to be this way around my friends. Do you know how I can stop letting peoples' ignorance and classism get to me? Worrying about how I pronounce words or if I'm using region-specific slang all the time is so exhausting.

hi there <3 this is a topic near n dear to my heart because i spent so much of my life trying to avoid sounding appalachian, and the last few years of it desperate to sound so aggressively appalachian that yankees can't understand me, lmao.

that is all to say: this is gonna be long as usual.

first: class solidarity, family <3 this stuff really sucks.

what inspired me to push past the discomfort of using my natural accent after a lifetime of getting rid of it was actually along the lines of what you mentioned: people being shocked that i could be from appalachia, and be articulate at the same time. there are so many nasty, hurtful implications there.

i hate to say it, but there's no easy answer to this.

something in me just… snapped one day about ten years back. i started to look inward, and i discovered this overwhelming pride and passion and love for my home that i had denied myself my whole life, out of fear over how it made me look.

i started doing the self-work and digging deeper into that. it wasn't comfortable, but once i embraced appalachia, i wanted to defend her. the best way to do that for me was to be loud. my pride in where im from outweighed the rest.

maybe you should start there, too. look inward, break down your own subconscious biases about yourself and about our home. find out why you have been made to think this way.

work on loving the appalachian parts of yourself. GET. FUCKING. ANGRY. at those who poisoned your mind with this shit, and use that fury to work on dismantling the beliefs they imposed upon you.

because why shouldn't we talk like our mamas just because some asshole thinks its funny? why should we give up ties to our community and culture, just to be respected? why should every blessed conversation be emotionally and physically taxing just to make a classist more comfortable?

it isn't my shame to carry, and it isn't yours. it is their shame, and their self-work to do. it is not our responsibility to coddle their ignorance. that is on them.

now, when someone hears me talk, it causes a sort of dissonance that they then have to wrestle with. it shifts the discomfort and emotional labor away from me, and puts it on to them instead.

every time i speak proudly, they have to confront themselves and their biases, and how it harms someone that they respect--you.

and if they aren't the kind of person empathetic enough to do that, literally who gives a shit what someone like that thinks about you.

turn those 'jokes' they make about it right back on them:

why is drug addiction funny? why is incest and sexual assault of children funny? why are underfunded schools and a failure to give children across the nation a fair and equal education something to laugh about?

framing it in my mind that i was taking back control in conversations this way helped me speak more comfortably. it made me feel empowered.

i think of it like this: by speaking in my dialect and embodying positive and "unexpected" traits from the region (leftist politics, anti-racism, things like that), i reclaim my power. i use that power to slowly shift the opinions of appalachia with the people i interact with.

it was scary, and it's still scary. but by making a conscious decision every day to speak in our dialect and be courageous even when it's hard, we are reclaiming the parts of ourselves that they took from us. we are bettering the image of the region we love so dearly.

it is INCREDIBLY empowering now to settle into my accent. but it took a LOT of self-work, courage and self-respect to be able to do it.

it ain't easy. i do still struggle with it; i catch myself code switching all the time. i don't think you or me or any of us trying to reclaim our accents will ever fully escape the weight of the classism that dictated our manner of speaking for a huge chunk of our lives, unfortunately.

but if you do that difficult work, it is so, so liberating, family.

you can do it. talk to yourself when you're home alone. let the accent get comfortable again on your tongue. start there, then let that beautiful dialect out for the world to hear <3

[urfavskzlvr]

I’m basically making this for myself but I need my opinion out there.

NICKNAMES FOR SKZ (bc I’m in love)

Fluff, gender neutral pronouns 🤗

BANGCHAN

- We all know my mans loves being coddled and cared for because he’s the oldest and he wants to feel taken care of.

- Baby boy 100%

- He would melt Every. Single. Time.

- Just a quick “yeah I’ll be right back, baby boy” and he’s doing his adorable upside down smile.

- And if you called him baby boy in front of anyone else, oh he would get so shy and red.

- he’s just so infatuated with every time you refer to him at all.

- He’s so soft for you RAHHHH!

- Chrissy

- I can’t get it out of my head

- “I love you too, Chrissy”

- AHHHHHHHH

- He would perish

MINHO

- this is my personal opinion but I HATE that everyone calls him kitten and shit like that LIKE EWWWW

- Minho is 100% so soft for you, and you alone

- He’s your man

- He loves being yours

- if you say like “oh that’s my man” or “he’s mine” he would fall apart

- MY boyfriend, MY man

- He’s always all over you and always so happy that he’s yours and you’re his

- Minah (min-ah)

- basic but it does things to him

- “could you hand me that, Minah?”

- he would smirk and get red

- maybe do his cute little chuckle

CHANGBIN

- HES SO SOFT AND IN LOVE WITH YOU

- Handsome

- He loves knowing that *HE* is handsome for *YOU*

- “you did such a good job, handsome”

- Basic but he’s so in love he doesn’t care

- he wants you to call him handsome in front of everyone

- it gives him an ego boost

- “hehe they said *I’M* so handsome”

- sweet boy

- OH. MY. GOSH. He would cling to you constantly

- He would do nice things on purpose just to hear sweet boy come out of your mouth

- “Awe, you really didn’t have to. Thank you sweet boy”

- he would have a bad day and then you call him sweet boy and he has a smile on his face for the rest of the night

- it would make him turn pink

HYUNJIN

- RAHHHH

- My boy loves being pretty for you

- PRETTY PRINCE

- It makes him feel special and honestly a little cocky

- “well they call me their pretty prince so beat that” or “I think you should listen because I’m the prettiest prince”

- he’s so cute about it

- he returns the nickname and calls you his highness

- Lover

- Look at our hopeless romantic baby

- Of course he’s your lover and you are his

- you introduce him to people as your lover and he just smiles and turns pink

- when you’re sleepy and just wake up

- “good morning my lover”

- He would smile big so his eyes would shut

JISUNG

- I’m about to go wild

- Princess

- first he liked it as a joke but now his heart is full every time you say it

- “how are you today, Princess?”

- he would turn so red every time

- he’s so pretty how could you not call him princess?

- he would get so shy if you called him princess in front of his friends

- cutie boy/cutie guy

- he’s such a cutie boy like RAHHHHH

- the first time you said it he looked at you and asked if you really thought he was cute

- “such a cutie little guy” or “good job, cutie boy”

- that could just be my love for praise talking BUT WHATEVER

- his eyes would sparkle every time those words come out of your mouth

YOU CANT TELL ME HES NOT THE CUTIEST!

FELIX

- IM GONNA GO MORE WILD

- ANGEL

- LOOK AT HIM BRO OF COURSE HES AN ANGEL

- HES THE SWEETEST LITTLE LAD I EVER DID SEE

- IF I THINK ABOUT HIS CUTIE LITTLE SMILE TOO MUCH, I FEEL LIKE I CANT BREATHE

- Ahem sorry about that

- “Did you eat today, Angel?”

- he would smile and kiss your face

- he would blush all the time

- Felix is 100% a shy little guy

- “Don’t embarrass me right now. We are in public” after you call him pretty and he starts turning red

- BABY DOLL

- I WILL NEVER EVER EVER EVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT

- “come on baby doll, it’s time for bed”

- Felix is a sleepy guy and my heart is so full for him

- he would cuddle up with you and keep you warm

- he would nuzzle his head against your chest

- I COULD CRY RN

IM SO SOFT FOR WIDE EYED LIXIE 😭

SEUNGMIN

- I see people call him puppy and I wholeheartedly agree

- He’s so puppy

- He’s used to stays and his members calling him a puppy but the minute it comes out of your mouth…

- puppy Minnie AHHHHH

- his eyes would be so wide and sparkle every time you say anything

- “how was dinner, puppy?”

- I see people saying all the time “meany Seungmin” NUH UH

- “he would call you an idiot in an endearing way” NO. He would worship you

- Seungmin is sweet for you and you only

- you are HIS

- min min

- SO ENDEARING HE WOULD ALMOST CRY THE FIRST TIME YOU SAY IT

- It’s such a cutesy name for him

- his heart explodes everytime you tussle his hair

- “did you have a good day, min min?”

- he would bounce like a hyper puppy and nod smiley

- also I know he loves nose kisses idk why but I KNOW

JEONGIN

- SWEETIE/SWEETHEART

- I FEEL IT IN MY BONES

- you two would go to the store to get food

- “how does this sound, sweetheart?” Or “you hungry for this, sweetie?”

- he smiles and nods cutely

- IM A SUCKER FOR THE LITTLE GUY

- No one really thinks too much of the nickname but it has his cheeks red and his hands sweaty

- how do we feel about ‘little fox’?

- BECAUSE I CAN TELL YOU HOW I FEEL

- HE IS SUCH A LITTLE FOX HES SO AHHHHH

- he hears you call him your little fox while you’re talking on the phone and he comes behind you and hugs you

- “he’s my little fox and I love him so much”

- He tells the members that you call him that and then he gets mad if anyone else tries to call him by that nickname

- “I’m THEIR little fox, not yours”

I COULD CRY

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk

[clit-licker420]

Hi I'm kind of going insane from thinking about this for hours so I need to ask someone. There has been many critisisms for the 4b movement but there were few that stuck with me and got me thinking like crazy so I would appreciate your opinion. A black trans man said that 4b is white women's movement and that black women cannot afford to separate themselves from black men, because they need to stand together against racism. Does this have merit? Another critique by the same person was that this movement focuses too much on villanizing men instead of decentering ourselves from them, which I don't agree but it was an interesting thought. And the last take, the current popular one, was that this movement is transphobic. Which I disagree with I do not understand how it could be transphobic. Btw I don't believe in the notion that trans women are men, I'm very against transphobia because it makes be uncomfortable.

hi anon! im going to try to answer your questions as best as i can but im not an expert so please dont take what i say as indisputable fact. id encourage you and any other people with questions to read widely and draw your own conclusions, but heres my two cents:

1. 4b is a movement created by south korean women, largely practised there and in nearby countries like china. purely from this standpoint i dont understand how it can be honestly called a white womans movement.

2. regarding the conflict black women face between often racist feminist movement and often misogynistic black right movements, i’m speaking as a white woman, so take my opinion with extra salt here. i fully understand why some black women and woc might feel alienated by feminist movements in the west, which disproportionally discuss white womens issues. that said, misogyny bypasses culture, race, and ethnicity. men of every country, race, and religion materially oppress women in their communities. ultimately i advocate for a unified, fully intersectional feminism where black women and all woc can feel welcomed and valued, and it is the duty of white feminists like myself to ensure the spaces we built meet those standards. but the idea that woc must choose between one or the other strikes me as disingenuous, and trying to force women to prioritise men’s needs ahead of their own.

3. men will always perceive decentering as villainisation, because anything less than submission is an insult. the fact is that thousands upon thousands of years of women humanising, empathising, and treating men with kindness have not improved our conditions, and no amount of coddling from women will make men suddenly decide to see us as equals. 4b is about prioritising women’s material safety and security over mens feelings.

4. whether or not 4b is transphobic depends on who you ask. one of the 4 bs is no pregnancy or childbirth, which can still be possible between a cis and trans woman depending on the individuals. this might be why some perceive it as transphobic. while there are some feminists who will utilise 4b for transphobia, i would welcome trans women into the 4b movement, as they are also frequent victims of male sexual violence.

hopefully this gives you some clarity. if any other feminists have more to add on this topic, please do!!

[gayfanservice]

Hello! I have a request for you but please take your time there is no rush!

Can you please to Ushiwaka (Tendou’s nickname for him) with a male reader who loves physical touch but in public places get super overwhelmed? Like something i find really cute and something that i find special is when im overwhelmed ill lock pinkies with my partner. Nothing more nothing less just our pinkies. It feels extra special to me because its like you just are pinky promising to stay together forever but you guys are also giving each other physical touch.

Sorry if this is really long! Thank have a good day! :)

It’s not long at all! Perfect length, if I do say so myself. There’s only a couple of requests that are too long for my liking (like the twins + older brother, please don’t make requests this length. Please.)

*********

Chatter and sounds of utensils filled the cafeteria air as Wakatoshi and (Y/N) comfortably sat beside each other. The quiet pair barely chatted, merely basking in each others presence as they occasionally glanced at each other. The comfortable silence broken by none other than Tendō, Wakatoshi’s school best friend, dropping his poor tray onto the table as he quickly sat down, Semi following suit.

“Ushiwaka, (L/N)! Good morning!” The brightly haired fellow basically yelled, a smile on his face as Semi looked semi-dead. Poor man must’ve not gotten enough sleep to deal with Tendō’s shit this early in the morning.

Wakatoshi acknowledged them with a simple ‘Morning,’ while (Y/N) let out an inaudible hum. He loved hanging with friends, but the cafeteria was always his least favorite place. The loud people, buzzing lights, and all around noises were too much for his brain to handle. The only reason he actually shows up is because he needs food, and Wakatoshi, who also needs food. He’d only been in there for close to twenty minutes and his brain was already feeling foggy. It was beginning to be too much.

(Y/N) listened to three different conversations; some girl talking about a bad break up, a group of friends talking about what to do for the upcoming weekend, something about murder, which is probably about a video game. Probably. The clashing sounds of lights and chatter were getting to his head, no longer able to listen to Tendō’s hyper-fixation ramble on his newest manga series. His breathing quickened, chest feeling cold as his head slightly twitched every which way.

Wakatoshi glanced over at (Y/N), noticing the spaced out look on his face and his subtle twitching. He linked their pinkies with a squeeze, a subtle question wondering if (Y/N) was fine. He quickly settled his gaze back onto his tray. He felt (Y/N) squeeze a couple times; a special thing they did together instead of saying words was tapping or squeezing whatever they held of the other. One for no, two for yes, and three for ‘I love you’. It was perfect communication between two non-sociable human beings.

(Y/N) felt better, knowing someone he trusts is with him. His chest felt warm as he thought about how much Wakatoshi cares about him. (Y/N) could make it to the end with him.

Wakatoshi finished his tray as well as (Y/N), deciding it was time to head back to their dorms and away from people. The two stood, waving goodbye at Tendō and Semi, and placed their trays in the respective area before they made their way back to whoever’s dorm popped up first, pinkies intertwined once again.

The walk was quiet, neither really speaking as they walked through the long hallway filled with different doors. Wakatoshi’s door eventually came up. The two settled inside, the morning sun dimly lighting up the room through Wakatoshi’s curtains. As soon as the door closed (Y/N) wrapped his arms around Wakatoshi, chest to back. His cheek coddled into Wakatoshi, instantly feeling better as Wakatoshi held his hands. The two didn’t talk as they embraced, gentle smiles on both of their faces as they relaxed into each others, and only each others, presence.

*********

Bet you dont even remember making this request lmao

[2bu]

posting this on behalf of a friend of mine who reached out to me + requested i post their last words to tumblr after being forced to pretty much leave due to antiblackness.

from my friend iso :

"if theres one thing i wish that could change before i come back to this app is really the treatment of black transfems and just black people and experiences in general , especially when entering into communist and or leftist spaces . i know identity politics is annoying and cringe for a lot of people here … ( which is odd because some how its often weaponized for the most mundane things that often inturn harm people who call out egregious behavior but i digress )

but im saying that as a black transsexual thats often times being othered by groups who are supposed to be for me and looking out for me i just notice things way more quickly than others do . i dont expect to be coddled , i dont even expect to be protected because i would rather do that myself . what im requesting for is to finally see a shift in how people treat black experiences and people in general .

long story short , i left a friend group that refused to tell me why the air was so hostile and stuffy and .. for awhile i got bitter and just didnt want to deal with anything involving gatherings anymore because even in my lifetime outside of online spaces ive always have been given the cold shoulder and weird avoidance after i speak my mind how ever i please , received death threats at my DOORSTEP for just telling the masses during the days of my participation in activism , what my pain and suffering was like all at the age of 15 .

ive never known tenderness or love and i still dont know what home feels like at the age of 22 . ive been to speakeasy after speakeasy , bar after bar , reading circles after reading circles and still the black experience and existence is met with so much animosity and hatred . this last line might be a little too personal but i actually reject the synthetic wax poetic love you sent to my wife because i hope to god he doesnt see that sorry , pathetic excuse of a message i got back because lord knows i cannot hold him back after that and i Personally hope to never see you again , full stop .

to the other people listening and those i met on my last leg , the ones i still think about and appreciate for giving me visibility , i love you ! and people who are just reading this i also love you .

i just want you to do the same for us . you need to recognize your ugly parts before its way too late because its ok we all have blind spots . i did ! and im just starting to learn from that . i dont regret the love i gave to them but i regret that i choose to give it to people who quite frankly , never deserved it .

i just hope my presence and the presence of other beautiful black souls makes you feel more inspired to explore and experience more . all we have is each other and we need to start acting on that . ily !"

[changbinsboobs]

i hope you recognize with your last post you are actively promoting homphobia, and harming and making queer stays feel unsafe in an environment thats supposed to be everyone's safe space and escape. you CANNOT presume someone's feelings towards queer people and you especially cannot speculate someone's sexuality (like you did with your "readings" for felix minho and jisung) through TAROT. BECAUSE YOU DONT KNOW THEM. your post is extremely harmful, you are perpetuating narratives of perversion and exposing queer stays like myself to hate in a space that should be safe for everyone. and the delusion you have to believe changbin is "talking" to you.... disrespectfully, get some help! and delete your post - and your entire blog - while you're at it!

Idk if this is the same person from the last comment or not, but i assume so.

I do not think my last post is promoting homophobia nor do i think it is my responsibility to coddle every other person on the internet. You have responsibility over your own self, what you consume and how you react/let it affect you.

And i don't think you have the slightest idea what tarot is and what its used for because, thats exactly what its used for. U use tarot on people, situations, yourself etc you don't know about so that you gain more clarity about it.

And you saying my post is exposing queer stays like yourself to hate is just insane😂 ur acting as if the worlds all flowers and butterflies and im the only person that out of my own will is actively spreading hate towards queer stays?! Are you hearing yourself?🫣🫠 Ur the one exposing yourself and projecting right now! And by the way - the internet is NOT A SAFE SPACE!!!! Not for me, not for you, not for anyone. You are not entitled to anything. No one is! And just some friendly advice - you can't expect and demand from people to accustom themselves to your needs - you'll just frustrate yourself. And you also can't speak for everyone. Someone has requested this reading because they were curious (might've even been you who knows). I did it because that's what my blog is about. And i state in all of my readings to take them with a grain of salt and that you shouldn't take them as facts! My content is lighthearted and based predominantly on interactions with my followers. So, respectfully, i will not be deleting the post just because you demanded, i will not delete my blog either and i advise you to get some help because you obviously need it:)

Oh also i just noticed - you've been following my readings for a while to know so much about me and my readings. If you think im so delusional, and project so much, and that my reading are harmful and whatnot - then why do you continue reading them?😂 i literary cannot comprehend your logic, cuz when i don't like something or someone i simply just distance myself :) u should try that too💗

[natsmagi]

am i the only one who feels like forcing a nuclear family dynamic onto switch is like seriously infantilizing to sora. he and natsume are literally like one year apart .. and him being as strongly autistic coded makes it more uncomfortable tbh

oh no i totally get that! i do think there are instances where people really water sora down to simply being a "child" which really sucks. im someone whos autistic myself so i also understand the discomfort that comes with this

i will say though i feel the issue is less "viewing switch as a family where sora is their kid" and more "viewing sora AS a kid" because hes approaching 18 years old himself now. itd be gross to continue infantilizing him

i feel like the reason this happens so often though is because in the text itself sora gets coddled alot by natsume and tsumugi. natsume sometimes outright being written like an overbearing parent to sora. but i dont think this is the writers infantilizing him either. rather i think this is the writers trying to create parallels in the story

natsume is someone who hates being coddled and seen as a child and weak, yet after the war he was left with just that. feeling like a weak child who couldnt do anything and was protected by his niisans, but still left all alone by himself. and then the next year starts and he runs into sora again. we dont know how this encounter really went, all we know is sora felt alone and like an outcast and was taken in by natsume and tsumugi. i think when natsume saw sora like this he couldnt help but see himself in him. seeing that weak child he himself was (esp since when natsume was an actual kid he would also speak in third person like sora) and i think this was what triggered him to basically devote himself to protecting sora. not wanting what happened to natsume to happen to him either. but he failed to realize that, while his actions are out of nothing but love, hes doing the very thing he hated when people did to him. sora loves natsume more than anything of course and doesnt seem to mind too much, but even sora has stated numerous times that hes not a kid and doesnt wish to be viewed as one. and iirc didnt tsumugi also once say natsumes "refusal to let sora grow up" was a cruel thing to do to sora or something to that effect?

i feel like people see natsumes (and in turn charas like the oddballs) treatment of sora and view it very surface level. they see him coddle sora and in turn wish to do so too! but in doing so it overlooks WHY natsume is doing this and the complexities of it all, and in turn leads to sora being infantilized

what i wanna say is i dont think theres anything wrong with portraying switch as a family. i dont think theres anything wrong with viewing sora as a cute little guy! but when you start viewing him as an incompetent child who needs guidance and cant do anything on his own without natsume or tsumugi is when it starts getting really gross. i dont think we should shame people for how they find joy in switchs relationship with one another, but i wish we wouldnt reduce them to roles and tropes. theyre complex characters ! hes not a kid hes his own person !!

[purrfectkittie]

I HATE AFTERCARE BY MYSELF .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·.

the worst thing is that technicallyyy im not by myself but!! hes not physically here so I AM >:( i hate hate hateee having to cuddle my plushy instead of a warm owner i hate having to comfort myself with my own fingers i hate having to comfort myself when i get too emotional afterwards i hate how i need to drag myself out of bed because i feel so sweaty and icky but im so tired like still so shaky and tired i hate everything about it!!!!

I just wanna be coddled and loved, want lots of kisses and cuddles, wanna be taken to the bathroom and be super clingy- like if they leave the room without me ill end up crying clingy, i wanna cry about how much i love them afterwards and be cooed at and comforted, and the best thing i can imagine is the cuddles! after being squeaky clean i wanna cuddle in bed with them and fall asleep all cozy together (,,>﹏<,,)

[enfieldtennisacademy]

i have spent the last two weeks in my childhood bedroom where i was molested and i have grown so manic depressive that i seriously believe i could peel my skin off like a boiled apple. "honor leave ur room go do something" okaaaay i will and then i immediately face the bridge troll of this overblown doublewide trailer... the patron saint of hebephilia who wants to be my bestttt frieeendddd even though ive made it so fucking clear i want nothing to do with him. i am truthfully waiting for him to die. make it past that hurtle and then get in my car with my suspended license and then drive around aimlessly because i do not know one person in this town. sometimes i get a canned water or melatonin from the store. and then i return home and get high or drink

got insanely fucked up a few days ago to escape the fucking evil that plagues this house and my walls but the whole time my mind just tallied up every single horrible thing that's happened in my life. i was so scared shaking and shit but my brain couldn't stop. it was like a powerpoint presentation and each slide was increasingly more intense and i cant even remember it now as i sit here to ""blog"" about it. i think sometimes i daywalk as someone who is very normal but then i consider how upside down my entire life has been since i was a little blonde child. like how do i just push this aside and do normal things like spin classes and road trips and a 9 to 5 when the basis of my bones are made out of horrible freak show occurances that not even my brain can remember? how am i supposed to make dinner for my husband and kids one day when this is how my brain and body functions? ill be standing at the stove pondering every single time i was torn to shreds and then have to face some cute fat kids and try and separate their world from that one. like i dont even know if theres a book to help with that......

like im not shy about how fucking tortured i am. my friends know exactly who i am and what has made me into the strange erratic doll they know and love to kick. i dont know how many times i'm going to cry to the point im hyperventilating and vomiting while people stare at me like a horse with a broken leg. eventually i will grow tired of being a strange facet ppl need to avoid eye contact with. or worse......... a spectacle to gossip about for 2.0 seconds over white gay male brunch. i wear my heart on my sleeve, which can be VERY embarrassing sometimes, but my life isnt a secret. everyone knows ive been preyed on and touched on and beat down. but i think ppl are so afraid of it being "AWKWARD" that they avoid me. they dont want me to start crying or for there to be a lull in the conversation because they dont know what to say in response to my batshit. so they have normal lives and they go to spin class and road trips and 9 to 5s while i get way way worse waiting for someone to rescue me. (rescue me: Be a friend). (Be a friend = chill w me. Be forgiving with my neuroticisms. Hang out and be normal to someone who doesn't get a whole lot of that. You know.)

anyway.......... i am an inchworm away from a total religion-fueled meltdown and turning to the church because i feel so hopeless and i feel like they will coddle me like a powdered little baby. i will at the very least take a text from a school buddy or a walk around the block w someone who hasn't tried to kill me or get me to do it myself. but until then i will continue sprinting on the treadmill and scrolling gaga daily and being haunted by my past until its seriously too much to bare. im gonna jump off the spring breakers bridge fr

[melanodis]

at this point i just need assisted suicide or something bevause im too scared to do it myself. my mom has stolen $12,000 from me with no intent to give it back because she's currently blowing it gambling. I live paycheck to paycheck. my job actively exacerbates my injuries. I can't buy nice things or anything at all without feeling immense guilt. no connection I make with other human beings feels genuine. at the very least I'd rather be used again than be shunned. my body is in constant agony. I can never help but feel the entire world is against me and people actively go out of their way to prove it. everyone will eventually grow tired of having to coddle me and insist everything is okay and I will be left lying face down rotting in a ditch. I wish anyone would extend that minimum amount of kindness to me. to stay. to actually accommodate me. and yet.

and yet.

I'm well aware that I'm too much. that I'm too annoying. that I cannot be expected to be attended to at all hours of the day. but just once I would like for someone to express that they actually give a shit about me before I do something stupid.

[moldwood]

i have 15 minutes before my work day starts, so why not have some reflections on 2023 for the lunar new year since my zodiac the dragon returns to me ☀️

PASSION

at the very end of the year, i did something i had always wanted to do and stepped down from work into a substitute position so i could focus on my art. it has been... slow, but i think it was the right move. whenever im not making something, i really cannot stand life. of course, i wont be able to stand it if i cant eat either, so well see how things turn out by the end of this year. i do think i need to get some art priorities in order, because im jumping around between a lot of projects which means theyre all getting done very slowly. i need to start focusing on one thing at a time, i think, but i really am enjoying the new stronger presence art has in my life.

MOOD

i really feel better than ever in regards to myself! most likely due to the aforementioned outpouring of passion into things ive wanted to do for YEARS. for the past few years, ive been a bit more aware of everything going on in my head than when i was a teen since i was still processing a lot of trauma, so ive been letting myself have a bit more slack on the rope in terms of "acting out of character" if that makes any sense. having a solid personality isnt something i really worry about since i know your sense of self is always shifting in every circumstance, but there were just some ways i never acted before that i let myself try on, find out its not for me, and then i end up feeling even more solid in who i am since i know what im not. i always knew i wasnt a giggly, happy-go-lucky person, but now i know that i can feel that way when i really really like someone. laios im talking about laios i have to be honest.

FRIENDSHIP

i think its my own personal failing that i overlook red flags from friends and try to make excuses for their behavior up until its too late and i have trouble not realizing that giving them an open space to be themself away from the world and support isnt enough to change that some are the type of people who are just looking for an excuse to think poorly of you anyway. i dont think im an overly kind person who will coddle someone being bad to me or a friend, but i definitely dont put my foot down enough. it happens in minor ways, but it happened in a major way again recently. if i had a dime for every time it turned into something severe, i would have two dimes. eight years apart and i let someone do the same thing, just minus suicide baiting me this time

tldr a friend of a friend sent that friend some stuff and it turns out that a friend who is no longer a friend turned into an islamophobe or at least started following islamophobic accounts and is very... delusional about the whole friendship + the kind of people we are + how we thought of him + really just wanted to think the worst of us and felt now he had a reason. we didnt read much more and felt no need to. its for the best that it's over, though, i think. he really was like that the whole friendship and didnt put any value on the things i/we did for him because it was never enough, which i knew the whole time but ignored because i thought if i did enough it would be enough, which leads me to:

i have been focusing more on loving my friends lately in the wake of that. i always have, though im not very vocal/chatty, so ive always shown it in my own way through giving drawings and gifts whenever im able. im never worried that i dont have a place in their lives, and im trying to worry less about the disconnect between how im thought of vs how i am. i think more what i am focusing on now is that i was always a very busy person, so while my friends were always very important to me, i want to do even more to show that since i want them to be sure of it. i dont have much time for any more projects, but i want to make sure they know i would do all i can for them outside of just drawing. i think this will help a bit with feeling more comfortable saying when i think something theyre doing isnt chill to me since the feeling would Hopefully go from me being bossy to me being just looking out for them being their best selves/not letting myself be misunderstood which just happens bc i dont talk very clearly not out of any lack of caring (there is a jumbled mess between my head and my mouth)

i also want to try to make new friends, or at least new acquaintances. theres a few people (mutuals 🥴) ive really wanted to talk to more, but i never know what to say. which makes sense, since i dont even talk with my friends all that much, usually only just whatever comes up in the current conversation in vc. autism damned. that boy cannot hold a conversation for his life. but maybe drawings are the way to go. my hands are all ive got IN SUMMARY

there are more thoughts and i dont have time to reread + word everything all nice because i have to work now. it is all a rambling train of thought mess. BUT tldr: life is really good right now and i feel more solid in the friendships im keeping and i am excited for my future art endeavors now that the last thing i was waiting for (the mixing palette!!!) came in. of course friendship is the longest section its the most important thing to me. anyway dreams for the year quickly ummmmm

✦ i want to learn how to use gouache. i have it! but i have to wait till i get a few projects out to get started. i think this will be very fun and very good for me because its been so long since ive played with a new medium ✦ i want to get better at small talk. how is the weather? do you like this type of weather? what type of weather do you like? what do you like to do when it is that type of weather? ✦ i want to visit prague to see if moving there would be good + feasible. my mom and half sister want to take a trip there, so i really hope that pans out and we can all go! ✦i want to work through my moral ocd about opening up a patreon/kofi and selling merch. people wouldnt subscribe if they didnt already have the money to. it doesnt matter if i make and sell 40 acrylic charms that are plastic and bad for the environment, taylor swift takes a private jet for a 20 minute car ride. ✦ i want to reach a higher fluency with arabic. its hard to find time to practice with my huge workload, so i think once i get better at time management with the projects, i can devote my mornings to a lesson a day and make better progress. ✦ lastly ig i want to try more new foods. i have been for the past several years, but i still am not the best at having good food consistently. im too busy right now to cook every day, so again i guess when i get better at time management between projects and life, i can devote some time in the week to meal prep + cooking good food. thank you laios dungeon meshi for reinforcing this. i already knew it but now theres a hot boy telling me it

2024 the year of more wahoooooo more taking more giving more drawing more cooking more dreaming more sun in the summer