#its interesting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[choccy-milky]

@foundthatoldzeppelinshirt what did u do to me...what in the wattpad is this... i only planned to do a few doodles but then i kept getting more brainrotted and things got out of hand LMAOO (and ofc i HAD to draw hockey player seb at SOME POINT bc its my duty as a canadian citizen🫡🍁🍁 O CANADA!!!)

[murderbot-moodboard]

The Murderbot fanfiction dilemma: when multiple construct/bot intelligences in a scene use it/its pronouns.

my biggest pet peeve wiht the english language is that you don’t have sin/sina

in swedish if u have two people who use the same pronoun u can always tell whos doing what bc its like ‘han tog sin väska’ (he took his[own] bag) and ‘han tog hans väska’ would be that he took the other persons bag

but in english its like if u have 2 ppl w/ the same pronoun:

“she took her bag” whose bag????WHose BAG was it her OWN bag or the other her’s bag??????????????

“he ate his donuts” were the donuts his own???? did he fucking eat someone elses donuts??? YIU DONT KNOW bc english is a bullshit language 

[talaok]

Giving up

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you

Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.

a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)

Part 1

"did you do something to your hair?"

Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.

"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"

His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh

"someone's in a good mood today"

"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"

Tommy's interest was only piqued more.

there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...

something was definitely going on.

"Where are you going?"

Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare

"none of your business"

Oh he knew what was going on...

"Who is she?"

"Tommy-"

"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"

Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.

He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.

"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"

But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.

"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"

What in the actual fuck?

Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.

"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak

"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur

"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"

"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"

"Tommy I know she's young bu-"

"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"

__ __

"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"

You smiled at his words, shaking your head

"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,

He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.

"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.

"Uhm- sure"

His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.

Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.

Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.

You watched him as he sipped on the glass.

"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"

He damn near choked.

Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.

He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"

"And?"

You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face

pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes

"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"

Oh for fuck's sake

"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.

"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"

This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.

"ok"

__ __ __

As it turns out, in many different ways.

Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?

He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-

or so you thought.

"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips

"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"

He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.

What a tease

__ __ __

"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"

For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.

You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...

It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.

"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,

He held his breath for a moment

"'s nothing babygirl"

"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"

"In your... bedroom?"

"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.

Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.

You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.

And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.

The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.

He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.

"Everything seems right"

"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"

He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.

"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.

He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.

The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"

"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"

You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.

"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-

He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.

"would you like to have sex with me or not?"

You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat

"this- this ain't really fair sugar"

A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"

Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.

"You're y-young baby-"

Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.

"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"

He cursed under his breath

"I just... I don't understand"

A breathy laugh escaped you

"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"

That earned you a chuckle

"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"

You smiled as you looked up at him,

you'd never met a man so sweet

"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"

Fucking damn it

How could he ever say no after that?

With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...

"So?"

He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.

"yes"

That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.

yes

Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.

His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.

A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.

He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,

making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-

and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.

You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.

You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.

Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.

Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.

He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.

You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

"take off your clothes"

You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.

The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.

You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.

"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.

"What?" you laughed

"I-I don't even know"

You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.

He was already addicted.

In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-

His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.

He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.

"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"

Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.

"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"

"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"

You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.

"Fuck"

"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"

Jesus fuck

Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.

You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.

He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.

Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.

Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths

"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"

His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.

"you ok?"

His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.

"Joel?"

He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.

"d-don't move"

You smiled as you promised "I won't"

God this was fucking embarrassing.

He'd spent three days training.

And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.

He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.

He was so fucked

"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"

"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"

Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.

"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"

he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.

"take all the time you need"

And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.

He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.

There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.

Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.

"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized

You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence

"You look..."

Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.

"you're beautiful"

Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.

"so are you, Joel"

And that was that.

His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.

A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.

Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined

The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.

He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.

"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.

You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.

"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.

"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.

the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.

The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.

Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.

But he was nothing if not a gentleman,

You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.

His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.

"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.

Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.

Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit

"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"

You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming

"Inside"

It wasn't even a question

"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"

"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"

Good Christ and heaven

"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"

You were already seeing stars as he spoke

"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"

A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.

You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.

He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-

His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,

until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.

He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.

A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"

And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.

@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu

[gingerkingfisher]

@clickbeetle

fish fish fish 🐠🐟🐠🐟

[giamee]

╭┄───────────── 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐕! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

featuring. hsr men 〆 wc. 1.0k

art creds. 海仑 on weibo 〆 contains. mentions of being drunk/drinking, some suggestiveness but still sfw

gia's notes. new layout bc im allergic to keeping a theme 🏰 also i'm writing this while i procrastinate an essay. which is due in like.. 8.5 hours. and i am 2k over the word limit. joy upon joy.

╰┄➤ ❝ request. anon 〆 What HSR men says when they are drunk. ❞

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re SWEET when they’re drunk.

his voice gets a touch softer, a little lower so that you have to crane your neck and lean in real close to him to catch what he's saying over the bustle of the bar that you went to and the chatter of your friends that you came with. it’s like you’re in your own little universe with him, the sweet pinkish tint to his cheeks and the dilated pupils a look that you could definitely get used to- not that his usual more reserved look didn’t make your heart hammer in your chest, too.

but it's just so rare to see him like this, for him to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like every word that passes your lips is a prayer, whose hands furl and unfurl in his lap like he's itching to touch you (you wish he would).

it's not like he really says much, per se, instead opting to watch your every move wide-eyed and with a slackened jaw. you're growing warm under his gaze, and you stutter out that he'll really have to quit staring at you like that before you get the wrong idea. that does little to stop his actions, though he does flash you a sheepish smile.

"i'm sorry, you just look so beautiful."

you almost choke as you take a sip of your own drink.

gepard, dan heng (imbibitor lunae), moze, luocha

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re FLIRTY when they’re drunk.

it should be illegal for him to be this much of a smooth talker with that many drinks in his system. he's completely and utterly shameless, one arm rested casually against the back of your chair and his whole undivided attention on you as he throws every line he knows right at you hoping that one will land.

you'd be lying if you said that you weren't enjoying this attention from him, though there's the remaining sober part of you screaming how he's just a friend over and over, but when he dips his head low to whisper into your ear you're delighted to find that part of you audibly drown out.

everything about him is just so... tantalising. the way his silver tongue darts out to swipe across his lip, him not missing the way your eyes follow the movement. the way he leans back in his seat, the hungry yet calculating look in his eyes doing something to you. the way you see him deliberating over something before finally opening his mouth to speak.

and when he asks you if you want to get out here with him, it's only natural for you to accept his offer.

aventurine (realistically he gets sad when he drinks but that is not romantical or lighthearted at all) jiaoqiu, gallagher, boothill

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TALKATIVE when they’re drunk.

even on a good day, he's known to just talk, and talk, and talk if he gets going. that particular quality only seems to be amplified by the alcohol coursing through his system. he's been talking your ear off for the past half hour or so, a never-ending flow of words escaping his lips as he seems to he telling you just about everything that's on his mind.

you see the glances from others, the pity edging its way to concern adorning their features, but little do they know that you don't mind one bit.

while he may not be everyone's favourite to talk to, you've always found something within you compelled to sit and listen while he talks. he's always had something interesting to say, always been wary of if you are feeling tired or bored (not that you ever would be of him), and over your few encounters you've grown to be rather fond of him.

he's still talking now, an enthusiastic gleam in his eye as you smile and nod, propping your chin against your hand as you get comfy and study his features unbothered.

he sees the affectionate look on your face and stops for a moment, smiling widely and stuttering a few times before continuing.

dr ratio, sampo, mr reca, argenti

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TIRED when they’re drunk.

it's something that happened once, a few months ago when you had drank with them for the first time. you had all been in a group, and you had been chatting away with your friends rather livelily (i dont think that's a word) until you promptly felt a weight against your shoulder.

your reactions are a bit sluggish, but when you do turn to see just what it could be you're surprised to see a head of hair, and your tipsy brain just about manages to realise he's slumped over, dozing off on your shoulder, much to the amusement of everyone at the table.

you find it rather funny yourself, sneaking your phone out of your pocket to snap a rather unflattering-angled photo of him (which he still manages to look good in) that you send to him the next morning (he smiled to himself as he saw your grinning face in the corner of it and saved it to his camera roll).

you don't quite have the heart to wake him up or shrug him off, so you sort of just... let him be and continue talking like nothing had happened. some nondescript amount of time later he wakes up, blinking uncertainly as he gains his surroundings, before jolting up ramrod straight and apologising to you.

you giggle, tell him it's alright and tease that he must be getting old to be asleep this early, which is met with an unimpressed look from him.

but from that night onwards, it happens a little too... often to be some chance.

every time he drinks, without fail, his head drops onto your shoulder. it's somewhat of a routine to snap a photo of him like this, to admire it in secret before sending it to him, and it's somewhat of a tradition now for him to wake up and instead send you a reserved smile before letting himself doze off on your shoulder again.

not that either of you are complaining.

blade, jing yuan, caelus, welt

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

[etherealspacejelly]

im so jealous of people who have special interests that are facts based. like how am i supposed to communicate to people that my special interest isnt star trek the tv show its star trek the story. the characters. the themes and motifs.

people ask me stuff about the lore or the production and im like nah nah nah. idk any of that stuff. but i could spend 30 minutes analysing the scene in corbomite manouver where spock says "im s-" and what implications that has for his character and his relationship with jim.

i dont know how a mind meld works or what powers a phaser but i could write you an essay on the themes of found family in star trek v, including the significance of row row row your boat in the cyclical narrative.

"how does a transporter work" fuck if i know. can i tell you about 'good luck spock'???

[communistkenobi]

“transphobia hurts us all” is an analytical statement. It is making a claim about how a specific bigotry operates in the world, and its supposed analytical value is in revealing something about transphobia that appears on the surface to be counter-intuitive - “while you might think transphobia only hurts transgender people, that isn’t the case; it hurts cisgender people too.” The follow-up to this statement, sometimes implied and sometimes explicit, is a moral imperative - transphobia is a social ill that hurts us all, so we should seek to get rid of it.

This analytical-moral chain of logic isn’t unique to this statement; a lot of analyses of the social world come from a broader desire to “figure out what to do.” When we investigate a social phenomenon to uncover its inner workings, and in this investigation we identify the scope and impact of the harm it causes, we are in a better place to understand how to reduce harm in the world. Of particular interest in this investigation of transphobia is highlighting its illegitimacy - if transphobia also harms cisgender people, this is evidence of its illegitimacy as a social force in the world. We have uncovered some fundamental contradiction in the workings of bigotry, and this contradiction provides a rational ground for us to oppose it. Of course transphobia is irrational and must be opposed; it harms other groups of people who are not transgender.

This is also why people object to this statement on analytic grounds - disagreeing with the argument that transphobia hurts everyone is a critique of analysis. Importantly, it is not a dismissal of empirical evidence; we can see many direct real-world examples of cisgender people being targeted for transphobic abuse, such as cis people being attacked in bathrooms for “looking transgender.” A critique of the claim that transphobia hurts us all is a methodological critique, it is a critique of analytical framing; we are operating from the same set of social facts, but reaching different conclusions. The reason for this is because we are using different investigative and theoretical tools in our analysis. And these differences are not trivial; how we define the social phenomena under investigation directly informs how we understand the facts in front of us.

So first, we must settle the problem of definitions - what is transphobia? Simply defining it as a hatred of transgender people is insufficient for all parties. If it does indeed also hurt cis people, then this definition doesn’t do us much analytical good. Where do we go from here? Perhaps a better place to start is to investigate its origins - what assumptions does transphobia operate from? Where do those assumptions come from? This is where we start getting somewhere. Transphobia draws its core assumptions from cissexualism - the belief that there are two mutually-exclusive and irreconcilable sexes, sexes which are immutable and biologically hard-wired, meaning that it is a difference in human beings that exists independent of the social worlds that human beings build. This idea is bound up in many forms of power, one of which being patriarchy; yes indeed there are two sexes, and one of them is better than the other. And because sex is hard-wired, then patriarchy is likewise a simple fact of nature. These assumptions are also bound up in reproduction; one sex impregnates (this is the powerful sex) and one sex gets impregnated (this is the weak sex). These ideas and assumptions structure much of our social world, being embedded in many social, political, and economic institutions, from family to labour to dating to census records to political office, and so on. 

Transphobia is thus an output of these logics - if sex is biological, and sex determines your place in society, then attempting to change your sex means you are thwarting the natural hierarchy of human beings. You are either trying to rise above your station, or abandoning your post. Either option is grounds for punishment. Why would you go against nature? How dare you?

So, transphobia is a bigotry that comes from cissexualism. We could investigate further where cissexualism comes from (and indeed those investigations are taking place), but for our purposes we now have a much more analytically rich definition. Transphobia is a social technology of discipline; it performs a regulatory function for the continuation of cissexualism, much the same way that misogyny is a regulatory apparatus of patriarchy, and homophobia is a regulatory apparatus of heterosexuality. These bigotries perform a very ‘rational’ social function; they reproduce existing forms of power by policing their borders and brutalising anyone who does not behave in accordance with their logics.

We now return to the original question: does transphobia harm everyone? This question now feels methodologically inappropriate, because we are ignoring the role cissexualism plays in producing transphobia. This is as absurd as describing homophobia without mentioning heterosexuality. The question should instead be: does cissexualism harm everyone? The answer of course is yes - we can see how cissexualism produces the social conditions for people to assault someone in a public bathroom for “looking transgender,” for an adult to force a child to report what their genitals ‘really look like’ so they can continue playing soccer, and for a billionaire to spend the latter half of her life dumping money and resources into political legislation that makes it more difficult to, among other things, correct administrative mistakes on your birth certificate. 

But because we are now talking about cissexualism, it is much easier for us to see how its violence is differentially applied across groups. Cisgender people can point to their cisgenderism as grounds for being exempt from transphobia - “don’t target me, I haven’t done anything wrong! I’m following the rules!” Their societal position as cisgender allows them to argue that they are illegitimate targets, that they are being unfairly treated. This animated much of the surrounding discourse around Imane Khelif - I can’t believe JKR is targeting a real woman! Can’t you tell she’s biologically female? Here’s her birth certificate to prove it, and anyway, don’t you know it’s illegal to be transgender where she lives? 

This is a defence that transgender people cannot mount for ourselves - we are by definition fraudsters in the cissexual regime of gender, we are abandoning our stations, we are perverting nature. And in this difference we come to see that it is not transphobia that harms us all, but cissexualism; we are all subject to scrutiny under cissexual surveillance, but cis people can generally pass the test. Transgender people cannot. 

This distinction also has implications for the second sequence in this investigative chain: what do we do about transphobia? Again we see that this call to action is methodologically inappropriate - you cannot “deal with” transphobia in society while leaving the cissexualist structure that produces it intact, in the same way that getting rid of misogyny without first getting rid of patriarchy is impossible. You cannot get rid of an output without destroying the machine that produces those outputs. This is also where many cis people, even those who count themselves as trans allies, become uncomfortable; abandoning the idea of a metaphysical property of being, hard-encoded into their DNA, means abandoning a whole host of other ideas about identity, about social organisation, about institutional operations. Even minor reformist calls by transgender people, such as removing sex markers on birth certificates (which determine your ability to access all kinds of administrative and civil services), is met with intense hostility by cissexuals - how will we run our hospitals, how will we raise our children, how will we track population data, how will we do anything without sex markers? You people are insane! Look how you deny reality! What is wrong with you freaks? Why can’t you just be happy with the way you were born? And on and on, ironically refusing to concede the fact that states, hospitals, child care, and census data are not natural facts of the world and can be changed. Because if those things can be changed, perhaps sex is not this monumental biological destiny after all!

“Transphobia hurts us all” is an analytical statement that advances a set of cissexual assumptions about the world, and as a consequence, it is severely limited in its value for advancing a moral imperative about how to resolve the problem of transphobia. It is not a neutral statement, nor is one that is helplessly subservient to “the hard facts.” We know those facts - describing them is the role of the social scientist. Whether you are in a laboratory or on the street, you are doing social science by analysing social phenomena. And when you say transphobia hurts everyone, you are doing a poor job of it

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi sex witch,

how can I ethically continue to be a slut if i have hpv? I have the gardasil-9 vaccine and I've never had any symptoms (and i was told its not the strains that cause cervical cancer), but knowing that I could potentially continue to spread it even if i have safer sex and let everyone I hook up with give informed consent - what if im hooking up with people with penises who can't be tested and could then spread it further? the only person I feel comfortable sleeping with anymore is the person ive been hooking up with for 2 years who probably gave it to me, but i don't really like that person outside of sex and I want to hook up with people i like more. but I don't feel comfortable hooking up with multiple people because I might spread it.

any words of wisdom?

hi anon,

the use of the word "ethically" is so interesting here. personally I don't see anything unethical about being sexually active as a person with HPV, especially given that alternative seems to be penning up people with STIs and denying them the experience of sexual intimacy. in addition to being cruel this would be fairly impractical, as the CDC estimates that something like 85% of sexually active people will be infected with HPV in their lifetime - although those infections are rarely permanent, as around 90% of cases clear up on their own within two years, so the pen would also have a hell of a revolving door.

the vast majority of HPV infections do absolutely fuck all to the people infected; after the strains that cause cervical cancer (which you don't have), the next worst effect is likely to be uncomfortable but thoroughly nonfatal and utterly treatable genital warts. it's worth noting that even this is unlikely; there are nearly 200 known strains of HPV and only two are known to cause genital warts (as opposed to the thirteen that can cause cancer).

even if you do - what, that's one extra nugget of information to slip into conversations prefacing future sexual encounters? "I have HPV, it's not really a big deal, there's a very slim chance you MIGHT develop genital warts in a few months but probably not, would you still like to have sex?" and that's assuming, again, you have a warts strain; if not, the conversation goes more like "I have HPV, it does absolutely nothing and will probably go away on its own even if you get it. would you still like to have sex?"

you're not a toxic waste dump; you're a human being with an incredibly common infection. you can ethically be a slut that same way you did before, by talking honestly with your partners and taking their needs into account alongside your own. fundamentally not a single thing has changed about you as a person.

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

hello I’d love to hear about natsu. do you have any thoughts abt what he was like before we (and lucy) meet him in fairy tail? like with growing up in the guild and all that

You were the first one in here but I literally had to let your ask marinate in my head longer to answer it properly lol.

So we don't know much about Natsu's childhood, whether it be pre-guild with Igneel or pre- main story when he joined the guild apart from a spare handful of moments and facts, these being:

Makarov was evidently the one to find him.

That god forsaken scene of the others laughin at him for not being able to read.

His moments with Gildarts as a kid

Macao being a teacher to him at some point who taught him to use his fire other than to burn things ( hello Natsu vs Erigor )

Finding and raising Happy with his bestie Lisanna

He never officially formed a team with anyone in the guild before the main story.

I think I might be missing a spare few but you get the idea.

For a main character we know scarcely little about him. His thoughts, his views. Zero. Which honestly for such a long running series is so odd to not even get a peek at what's goin on in his head.

There's nothing absolutely solid about his past that we can get to use to dig into his head. Save for the fact that he loves his friends and his family.

Across the board for a lot of his moments in his past we know he's got a lotta love to give. He loves his Dad, he loves Happy, he loves his guild. But just because you have something doesn't mean you know how to work with it.

He loves Igneel. Igneel disappeared. And that forced him into a denial of his dad being dead so strong that up until present in the main story he still desperately searches for him even when the other slayers had accepted it. ( And i'm almost sure he got laughed at for over the years. Can you imagine? Saying your looking for a dragon in a dragonless world?)

He loves his friends. But I think after that damning moment (which honestly I think is a moment really early is his joining the guild. Like he hadn't gotten to know em 100% yet) of them laughing at him he clams up about certain things.

Any moment of vulnerability he could have with them down the line is tossed out to avoid something like that happening down the line.

Lisanna (lisanna, lisanna ilu. I should draw u more.) was a blessing in that she was working on getting those walls down and she was close! Then her incident happened and he clammed up again even fucking harder than before!

Man this is such a long winded way to answer your question but I think growing up in the guild for Natsu, I think as much as he loves everyone- and he does! He loves em all! Even the mfers who piss him off sometimes- I think even though he was there with everyone he didn't feel as though he could open up (or well risk opening up tbh) to them. So he played along to make things in general easier going forward. (Whether intentional or not is up in the air)

So whatever perceptions everyone had of him he rolled with it. He's a lil bit dumb, he's loud, he's inattentive, etc. He doesn't deny what's said about him. Hell he might even play it up. He just doesn't do anything to break the perception as time went on. And since no one really dug like Lisanna did there was no reason to break it.

So he grew up in the guild as the happy go lucky loner. Nothin more and supposedly, nothing less.

[littlegreenteacup]

My ex was 15 years older than me and we broke up because he was moving across the country for work and I didn’t want to have to start my life over again when I finally had some grasp on reality after the worst of COVID. Some of my best friends are my mothers age or older, and no they weren’t my mothers friends first I just work in a library and joined the book club and knitting circle when I was 17. There’s a very real difference between unhealthy dynamics in relationships, platonic or romantic or something else entirely, and having preferences.

'all age gaps problematic' people are so wild. "what can a 19 year old and a 28 year even have in common??? what do they talk about??" BITCH THEIR HOBBIES???????

[allagashed]

whenever i say “screaming crying throwing up” this is what i mean

[amygdalae]

kind of hate my stupid caustic pussy for dissolving my underwear over time but it's kind of cool, like, scientifically

[catmask]

the 'all marriage is gay as far as im concerned' except its me watching a man and woman character in a show i like and accidentally saying 'theyre so gay' because i literally forget thats not the word for romance because to me all romance is gay

[straynoahide]

semantics come from linguistic convention, basically words mean what they do because we agree they do out of customary usage.

every word has an etymology, or origin, but semantic change is a constant of language. so etymology is insufficient to explain a word's meaning. the word "sake" (as in, "for god's sake!") meant "thing", now it doesn't. "vagina" meant sheath, now it doesn't.

depending on what demographic, community, you may have different conceptual systems for the same terms, even during the same period of time. nowadays, some are cross-cultural and cross-linguistic with the advent of multinational 'internet culture', so it is harder to keep track of these things.

"sentience v sapience v sophonce" actually is an interesting elaboration, a three-tiered distinction over the two-tiered distinction if you collapse any possible distinction between sapience/sophonce.

sophonce is a neologism with a greek root, although it is latinate, coined by a collaborative worldbuilding project called Orion's Arm, and "a project by nerds" doesn't quite translate it. it's a sci-fi fictional setting and their webpage is a bit old styled but it still includes thousands of articles expanding history, culture, 'galactography', etc, for tens of thousands of years into the future. it is a treasure trove of interesting ideas, some very original and philosophically relevant now with the development of AI.

many deal with a branch of philosophy called "noology", the study of the mind, thought, and knowledge.

they have developed terms like hypersophont too and tiers of possible levels of super-human intelligence based on what makes human intelligence different from animal intelligence, including the intuition that this is not like a linear ascension.

so the three-tiered distinction conveys something like this

sentient = could include literally invertebrates, sensory functions, but not necessarily able to form thoughts. subjective experience can go from vivid and detailed to very rudimentary (like a jelly that only "notices" light and dark)

sapient = intelligence, but not at the level of human intelligence. canids, felids, corvids. more importantly, primates, great apes. because there are currently important ethical questions that ponder what "personhood" and non-human personhood in particular is. is an ape that knows itself is itself and can do sign language* a person? maybe not, but they're not just sentient like a grasshopper is.

(*animals can sign, althought it's not really 'language' because animals can't really do grammar/syntax)

the current best estimate for that threshold, scientifically, is self-awareness btw. self-awareness is the ability to have, in one's mind, the notion of self. self-awareness is also called "autoscience". some non-human animals are able to do this.

sophonce or whatever word you wanna call it, would imply something more, something currently only humans possess. metacognition is not just self-awareness.

but metacognition takes it a step further, it implies associations around that, the ability to form knowledge about oneself, to turn oneself into a concept, and think about it.

this conversation would reveal someone is self-aware:

+hey you spilled your coffee -ah right, i see the spot, i hadn't noticed. i wondered why suddenly my knee felt hot. the fact they can associate an internal feeling (hot, cold) with the experience observed by someone else, as happening to them- that requires a concept of the self as the thing that experiences things. but only this conversation would reveal someone is metacognizant: +hey you spilled your coffee -oh fuck, i actually love coffee, now i have to get another one +do you really love coffee, though? -hm i guess you're right, i actually have a caffeine addiction, but i don't want to say it because i feel bad about it. only humans can form knowledge about the self and know things about the self, and have "recurrence" in thoughts. they aren't just thinking about coffee, they're thinking about what they're thinking about coffee (they're reflecting on the fact their euphemism reveals an avoidance to admit a problem).

that's what is so far human-only in terms of intelligence.

i am on my knees tears running down my face knuckles raw and bleeding and BEGGING people to learn the difference between sentient and sapient

[artistotel]

hey! for todays protest, i made this little zine about palestine (holding just simple and basic information).

you can download the zine here, fold it yourself, and distribute it around.

no credit is needed. feel free to leave it around bars, protests, or wherever. simply print it (borderless) and fold it. here is a tutorial on how to do it.

dont stay silent. there is a genocide of horrendous, atrocious proportions going on. also if you are a zionist here to argue with me, i dont plan to entertain you at all, not on my art blog. fuck off, you'll be swiftly blocked. i see enough of you clowns on my main and i have no energy for you. you can skip the death threats too bc i dont give a shit.

(i'm off to get ready for a surgery now, i just wanted to post it before this. if you need anything, i might take a bit to reply)

[cozylittleartblog]

"content creator" is a corporate word.

we are artists.