#right to die movement

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Me watching the LGBT community who almost never rarely gives black women and girls, asexuals, or aromantics genuine respect, pretend we’re all friends and have always treated us right the minute it’s June 1st and want to use black women(mainly darkskinned) and girls as their little poster girl:

[axyo]

i miss this little freakazoid

[weepylucifer]

glorious 25th makes me think again about that one idea i once had for a discworld spinoff set in the future that would deal with the natural conclusion to the industrial revolution arc: communism comes to discworld

[linguinibilly]

have i mentioned how much i love the summoning song from nerdy prudes must die because i really fucking love that song

[ionknowyou]

Media literacy=civics 101

[transgaysex]

yknow i do think rigging is fun but its also real intricate. and the mistakes get on my nerves

[spiegelgestalt]

Schrei nach Liebe

the only reason I'm sad that German isn't the lingua Franca is that no one can understand Ärzte-songs. Their lyrics are so fun and so relevant to our current political climate

[clonerightsagenda]

It's my firm conviction that every time Maxwell sets foot on a station she gets the lowdown on AI social dynamics via the system readouts. After tracking down a power allocation anomaly and seeing that Hilbert's quarters are a brisk 55 degrees because heat is being diverted to the comms room she's like guys you will NEVER believe who the favorite is on this one.

[sparingiscaring]

Finished "The Children of the Glow"! I really really liked it actually, a nice bit of moral grayness! The final choice of how to publish the last piece did, in fact, have me going on a rant about how we should overthrow the governments of both locations because we have nothing to lose but our chains, and that's a compliment to it.

[im2tired4usernames]

I hope what ever asshole cultist invited the stay at home daughter movement a very your dick gets rips into bits and eaten by pigs

[wild-at-mind]

As a trans person I just want to say- if you (cis, trans, anyone reading this) have EVER referred to transition as suicide prevention.....let me just say, you sure as fuck had better not support people who think suicide in the name of 'protest' for Palestine is activism!!!!!!

[rapha-reads]

Langston Hughes, "Kids Who Die", 1938.

[prometheus023]

Thank you for putting into words, something I've struggled to articulate for almost two decades.

I get variations on this comment on my post about history misinformation all the time: "why does it matter?" Why does it matter that people believe falsehoods about history? Why does it matter if people spread history misinformation? Why does it matter if people on tumblr believe that those bronze dodecahedra were used for knitting, or that Persephone had a daughter named Mespyrian? It's not the kind of misinformation that actually hurts people, like anti-vaxx propaganda or climate change denial. It doesn't hurt anyone to believe something false about the past.

Which, one, thanks for letting me know on my post that you think my job doesn't matter and what I do is pointless, if it doesn't really matter if we know the truth or make up lies about history because lies don't hurt anyone. But two, there are lots of reasons that it matters.

It encourages us to distrust historians when they talk about other aspects of history. You might think it's harmless to believe that Pharaoh Hatshepsut was trans. It's less harmless when you're espousing that the Holocaust wasn't really about Jews because the Nazis "came for trans people first." You might think it's harmless to believe that the French royalty of Versailles pooped and urinated on the floor of the palace all the time, because they were asshole rich people anyway, who cares, we hate the rich here; it's rather less harmless when you decide that the USSR was the communist ideal and Good, Actually, and that reports of its genocidal oppression are actually lies.

It encourages anti-intellectualism in other areas of scholarship. Deciding based on your own gut that the experts don't know what they're talking about and are either too stupid to realize the truth, or maliciously hiding the truth, is how you get to anti-vaxxers and climate change denial. It is also how you come to discount housing-first solutions for homelessness or the idea that long-term sustained weight loss is both biologically unlikely and health-wise unnecessary for the majority of fat people - because they conflict with what you feel should be true. Believing what you want to be true about history, because you want to believe it, and discounting fact-based corrections because you don't want them to be true, can then bleed over into how you approach other sociological and scientific topics.

How we think about history informs how we think about the present. A lot of people want certain things to be true - this famous person from history was gay or trans, this sexist story was actually feminist in its origin - because we want proof that gay people, trans people, and women deserve to be respected, and this gives evidence to prove we once were and deserve to be. But let me tell you a different story: on Thanksgiving of 2016, I was at a family friend's house and listening to their drunk conservative relative rant, and he told me, confidently, that the Roman Empire fell because they instituted universal healthcare, which was proof that Obama was destroying America. Of course that's nonsense. But projecting what we think is true about the world back onto history, and then using that as recursive proof that that is how the world is... is shoddy scholarship, and gets used for topics you don't agree with just as much as the ones you do. We should not be encouraging this, because our politics should be informed by the truth and material reality, not how we wish the past proved us right.

It frequently reinforces "Good vs. Bad" dichotomies that are at best unhelpful and at worst victim-blaming. A very common thread of historical misinformation on tumblr is about the innocence or benevolence of oppressed groups, slandered by oppressors who were far worse. This very frequently has truth to it - but makes the lies hard to separate out. It often simplifies the narrative, and implies that the reason that colonialism and oppression were bad was because the victims were Good and didn't deserve it... not because colonialism and oppression are bad. You see this sometimes with radical feminist mother goddess Neolithic feminist utopia stuff, but you also see it a lot regarding Native American and African history. I have seen people earnestly argue that Aztecs did not practice human sacrifice, that that was a lie made up by the Spanish to slander them. That is not true. Human sacrifice was part of Aztec, Maya, and many Central American war/religious practices. They are significantly more complex than often presented, and came from a captive-based system of warfare that significantly reduced the number of people who got killed in war compared to European styles of war that primarily killed people on the battlefield rather than taking them captive for sacrifice... but the human sacrifice was real and did happen. This can often come off with the implications of a 'noble savage' or an 'innocent victim' that implies that the bad things the Spanish conquistadors did were bad because the victims were innocent or good. This is a very easy trap to fall into; if the victims were good, they didn't deserve it. Right? This logic is dangerous when you are presented with a person or group who did something bad... you're caught in a bind. Did they deserve their injustice or oppression because they did something bad? This kind of logic drives a lot of transphobia, homophobia, racism, and defenses of Kyle Rittenhouse today. The answer to a colonialist logic of "The Aztecs deserved to be conquered because they did human sacrifice and that's bad" is not "The Aztecs didn't do human sacrifice actually, that's just Spanish propaganda" (which is a lie) it should be "We Americans do human sacrifice all the god damn time with our forever wars in the Middle East, we just don't call it that. We use bullets and bombs rather than obsidian knives but we kill way, way more people in the name of our country. What does that make us? Maybe genocide is not okay regardless of if you think the people are weird and scary." It becomes hard to square your ethics of the Innocent Victim and Lying Perpetrator when you see real, complicated, individual-level and group-level interactions, where no group is made up of members who are all completely pure and good, and they don't deserve to be oppressed anyway.

It makes you an unwitting tool of the oppressor. The favorite, favorite allegation transphobes level at trans people, and conservatives at queer people, is that we're lying to push the Gay Agenda. We're liars or deluded fools. If you say something about queer or trans history that's easy to debunk as false, you have permanently hurt your credibility - and the cause of queer history. It makes you easy to write off as a liar or a deluded fool who needs misinformation to make your case. If you say Louisa May Alcott was trans, that's easy to counter with "there is literally no evidence of that, and lots of evidence that she was fine being a woman," and instantly tanks your credibility going forward, so when you then say James Barry was trans and push back against a novel or biopic that treats James Barry as a woman, you get "you don't know what you're talking about, didn't you say Louisa May Alcott was trans too?" TERFs love to call trans people liars - do not hand them ammunition, not even a single bullet. Make sure you can back up what you say with facts and evidence. This is true of homophobes, of racists, of sexists. Be confident of your facts, and have facts to give to the hopeful and questioning learners who you are relating this story to, or the bigots who you are telling off, because misinformation can only hurt you and your cause.

It makes the queer, female, POC, or other marginalized listeners hurt, sad, and betrayed when something they thought was a reflection of their own experiences turns out not to be real. This is a good response to a performance art piece purporting to tell a real story of gay WWI soldiers, until the author revealed it as fiction. Why would you want to set yourself up for disappointment like that? Why would you want to risk inflicting that disappointment and betrayal on anyone else?

It makes it harder to learn the actual truth.

Historical misinformation has consequences, and those consequences are best avoided - by checking your facts, citing your sources, and taking the time and effort to make sure you are actually telling the truth.

[bunabi]

I'm in awe of how we ran historical revisionism on the civil rights movement so bad that people truly believe it was quiet self-sacrifcial non-disruptive christ-like activism that forced progress and not — like — the incredible economic pressure of boycotts and outbreaks of illegal civil disobedience

Yapping to the choir but eughhh it burns me up girl effective protests have to be loud and inconvenient for change to happen because silent cries die in the dark that's the entire pointtt

[s0dium]

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐗

A/n: Almost kinktober guys ;) Synopsis: How many rounds can JJK men go for? Characters: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru, Choso, Sukuna Ryomen Warnings: Doggy, mating press, multiple orgasms, sub space, overstimulation, dub-con, photo taking, cock warming, nipple sucking, finger sucking, breeding, unprotected sex, virgin!Choso, mentions of masturbation, pussy drunk men

☆ Gojo Satoru: 3-4

The longest three rounds of your life

You think he can stop just cumming in you once? Hell no. The best part about sex is when he can see his cum oozing out of you with each push.

Also loves overstimulating himself until he is a groaning mess.

Unfortunately for you, Gojo Satoru is NOT a one-minute man.

"Awe come on don't go zoning out on me now~"

Gojo's voice is teasing, a low, melodic coo that slides into your ears as you struggle to focus. His grin is wide, almost predatory, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement as he leans in closer. You’re hazy, breathless, your mind clouded with pleasure, barely able to register the words.

"S'cant... feel too...” You mumbled and thrashed against Gojo's hold, forcing him to pin your wrists together above your head while he pistoned into you with brute force. Sure it's only the second round for him but for you, he's brought you over the edge more than your poor poor body can handle.

Your body feels completely spent, trembling with overstimulation as your legs, sore from the constant tightening and untightening, hang limp in Gojo's grip. He’s folded you in half, his hands pressing your legs against your chest, locking you in place with ease. The room feels heavy, a warm haze clouding your thoughts as you realize you’ve been drooling, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure to even care.

“Feel fucking amazing Jesus Christ.” Gojo manages to groan out between pants followed by a string of curses. Every time he leaves the clutch of your cunny, his cock is coated in a thick shiny sheen of creaminess, and when he snaps his hips back in, it settles right at the base of him, painting your puffy pussy lips as well. Gojo effortlessly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, sinking even deeper into you with each forceful thrust. The new angle, paired with the relentless pace of his hips snapping against yours, sends you spiraling dangerously close to the edge. Your grip on the sheets falters, hands slipping as tears streak down your flushed cheeks. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling beneath you, completely mind-fucked and overwhelmed by the pleasure that consumes every inch of your body.

Your limbs have no strength left to resist—no, you don’t want to. Every nerve in your body is thrumming, begging for more as you let him take control. His every movement draws out a fresh wave of sensation, each thrust sending you spiraling closer to that next high. You can’t stop it—there’s no chance to. Your body is his to use, to pull pleasure from again and again, and all you can do is surrender to the bliss as it builds, crashing over you uncontrollably.

"Come for me baby," Gojo coos. "I'll cum in you and if it spills we can start all over again."

~

☆ Toji Fushiguro: 6

First three you are riding him and doing all the work.

Then when your legs give out thats even he fucks you silly

He is so big :( Sometimes he has to let you cock warm him for a bit so you can catch your breath

This is it you where going to die.

You were going to be fucked to death.

"Shhh, stop crying would you? Yer' taking it like a champ I promise."

Two big hands come up to your face to wipe the hot tears streaming down your face. Your body is trembling uncontrollably, every muscle quivering as waves of pleasure leave you numb and overwhelmed. It’s like your senses have short-circuited, leaving you shaking, barely able to register anything beyond the intense, lingering sensation pulsing through you.

Even though Toji is unmoving inside you, your pussy cannot stop spasming from the pleasure of his fat tip pressed up against your g-spot. Even if he wanted to pull out right now, Toji doubts that your cunt would give up the vice grip on his cock. Coincidentally that meant that he was keeping you plugged with 3 loads of warm sticky cum in your tight walls.

"Fuck still so tight baby, you want me to fuck you more don't you?" Toji's voice is a low, teasing coo as his focus shifts to your breasts, his tongue flicking over each hardened nipple, tracing slow, lazy circles that send shivers down your spine. One hand squeezes your breast, kneading the soft flesh, while the other glides over your sides and stomach, his touch warm and deliberate, drawing out every sensation. With all the strength you can muster, you wrap your legs around his waist pulling him closer to you so that you can feel his cock push impossibly farther into you, and he moans into your breast, biting your nipple softly. 

Then, without releasing your nipple from his mouth, he begins the slow roll of his hips into your sloppy cunt. Toji's hips move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each roll pressing him deeper into you with a tantalizing, unhurried pace. His movements are controlled, almost teasing, as he grinds against you, making you feel every inch, every pulse of his dick as he draws out your pleasure with each smooth thrust.

"Just take it m'kay? You can handle it."

~

☆ Geto Suguru: 4

Geto is a real fiend

The breaks between sex consist of him drinking water and kissing the water into your mouth. After that it's right back to fucking.

Loves taking photos of his cum oozing out of you. Looks at it when he is bored.

“So pretty….”

Drool dripped from your chin onto the pillow below, mixing with the tears streaming from your eyes, which were rolled back in bliss. Your breath hitched the moment Geto's hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back just enough to catch his gaze out of the corner of your eye. As your eyes lock, a dark, knowing smirk curves on his lips, sending a shiver down your spine. You were finally getting used to the dizzying, mind-numbing pressure of his tip crashing into your cervix—but the bad news? Your legs were completely numb, trembling and useless beneath you.

 “Did you hear what I said doll?”

 Whatever was left of your mind tried to reign back its focus on the man pistoning into you from behind, but as it turned out, there wasn’t much. The friction of his cock dragging against you was unbearable, even with the syrupy cum soaking the walls of your quivering pussy. All you could do was dizzily nod, earning a chuckle from Geto while he eyes the way your hips instinctively raise so his cock can sink even deeper into you from behind. If you could only know the heaven your cunt you're putting his mind in, he is sure you'd be the one smirking. Geto even has to bite harshly on his lip to stop himself from whimpering every time your sticky pussy spasms from pleasure.

The euphoria came in waves of electric current that pulsed through your sloppy pussy and the only thing keeping you grounded his loads of warm sticky cum dripping down your thigh.  

 “Come on speak to me baby, I've only come two times, we've barely even started.”

 The wet sounds of Geto's dick slipping in and out of you filled the room and your senses. His cock filled you so much better than your hands ever could, hitting that gummy spot inside your walls over and over again perfectly, and you wondered how you were ever satisfied with the way you masturbated before you met him.

 “I’m a lucky man arent I? To have such an obedient baby with such a pretty pussy.” His hand comes to your face to caress your cheek, and you nestle into his touch while his thumb wipes away your tears. Your too busy immersing in the warmth of his palm to notice the flash of light and the sound of a shutter above you. Even when you turn your head back in curiosity, all you see is Geto staring at the screen of his phone with a lazy grin spread on his face.

~

☆ Choso: 2

Give this man a break! He's a half century old curse who has never fucked before!

You should be glad that he didn't cum by just slipping his tip in, because oh god lord he is seeing colors.

Choso swore he wasn't a whimpering man. Nothing that good could ever make him stumble over his words like a schoolboy. But Jesus Christ, he was not expecting you.

“F-fuck, you’re tight,” Choso groans hoarsely. You felt good? Try god-like, Choso's mind was in euphoria right now. His hand or a fleshlight could never compare to the way your gummy walls sucked him in and hugged his cock.

"M'feel good Cho~" You whine, head thrown back against the plush pillow. The stretch was delicious. It had you squirming and writhing and you couldn't help but tighten as your body tried to push out the large foreign intrusion. You gasped when you felt his tip smush against your cervix, little bolts of electricity being sent through your stomach as he pressed against you.

Choso was slow at first, wanting to still admire the way your cunt swallows him up, the fat of his head has a hard time popping out with how greedy your cunny is being. He whines at how hot you are on the inside, but he’s quick to change to a faster pace.

Choso’s voice comes out in a deep, breathless groan, his grip tightening as he leans closer, his words heavy with need. "W-wanna do this all the time. Every day, baby," he rasps, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, completely lost in the sensation. Each thrust seems to pull the words from his lips as if he can’t hold back, his body trembling with how good it feels. The thought of having you like this, over and over, only spurs him on, his pace quickening as he grinds against you, desperate to make this moment last forever.

Unable to handle the sensation, your hands grab his shoulder and grip them for dear life. Choso doesn’t let up his pace, in fact he increases it, pounding your poor little cunt with no remorse. His mind is foggy, everything just feels and looks so so good, he’s not even thinking when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, digits pressing down on your tongue and swirling around in the spit.

“Your gonna let me use you when ever I want right? Gotta lot of time to make up for, you gonna be a good girl and always make me feel good right?”

~

☆ Sukuna Ryomen: Lord have mercy

It depends.

Its either the longest no-break sex marathon of your life or 6 even seven rounds with small breaks in between.

Unfortunately, Sukuna is a sadist, it's a headcanon that he might prioritize his pleasure over yours. Combine that with his godly stamina and you have an insane combo.

Kneeling helplessly, both your wrists pinned behind you by just one of Sukuna’s powerful arms, you can only brace yourself as he thrusts into you from behind, each powerful movement sending shockwaves through your body as he effortlessly controls your every breath, your every tremble.

"C-cant do this!" you cry, your voice breaking as Sukuna's grip tightens around your wrists, holding you firmly in place. Your legs are sore from this kneeling position and the angle that his cock hits you is so euphoric it's almost painful from the sheer collision. Sukuna chuckles darkly, his pace relentless as he leans in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your neck.

"Oh, but you will," he growls, each word dripping with wicked amusement, his hips driving into you harder. "You don’t have a choice."

You can only wail in response, the sound escaping your lips uncontrollably as the overwhelming pleasure consumes you. Every thrust sends a wave of heat surging through your body, your mind going blank as Sukuna fills you completely, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. The pressure builds with each deep, forceful stroke, your body trembling beneath him, and all you can do is surrender to the intense, all-encompassing bliss that threatens to pull you under.

"Such a good girl, you're a natural submissive, aren't you? Or maybe you just loved being fucked like the slut you are."

How much time has passed? You can’t even tell anymore—everything blurs together in a haze of pleasure and heat. The rhythm of Sukuna’s relentless pistoning becomes the only thing grounding you, your mind foggy and lost as your body responds to him instinctively. Each second feels stretched out, an eternity of raw sensation as you teeter on the brink, utterly consumed by the moment.

"Gonna fuck you like this till I’ve had my fill, got that?" Sukuna’s voice is a low, dangerous growl in your ear, the words sending a shiver down your spine as he presses deeper.

[feelgoodinct]

nsfw, mdni.

simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.

cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).

simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.

you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.

you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.

“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.

he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.

you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.

he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.

he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.

you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.

“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.

he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.

“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.

“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.

he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.

your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.

simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that makes you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”