#until one of y’all tell me I can’t call myself butch yet again

[knifewieldingenby]

Me: *finally finds a word to describe the struggles I’ve had with my gender expression/the way I perceive myself/how I interact with the world*

Under 25 yo’s on tumblr: lol you know futch is a meme right? Like it started as a meme. It’s just a joke. No one should identify with this ~~brand new meme joke made up word~~

Me, who knows people have been identifying as futch since at least the 90’s and the earliest online record of its use is from 2002:

(anyway I’ve blocked like 30 people from this tag and the ones who actually identify with the term hardly use it because of the hate yayyyyy)

[guard-the-yard]

Now And Forever Part 3

It’s been 3 weeks now since you started staying with Roman and you have never been happier with him, but how long will that happiness last? What happens when something changes?

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, no abuse or bad vibes in this chapter let’s have a break from that!!!

Hello guys!! Again a big thank you for reading this it means a lot!! I’d just like to say if you guys have any WWE requests let me know and I will do my best to write something amazing for them!!

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Romans POV

I can’t believe my luck, I finally have her here in my arms. I can finally kiss her, feel her, hug her whenever I want and no one can stop me she is my girl now and I am not letting anyone hurt her again.

I rolled over to pull her closer and have some morning cuddles before smackdown as that had become a new tradition that we had but she wasn’t there, i shot up out of bed call it a primal instinct.

“Y/N?! Baby girl where are you?!” I looked around the house but I couldn’t see her. I could feel the panic starting to set in, what happened if Alex had found her? Oh god I swore that I would protect her.

Y/N POV

It must have been about 7:30 am and I wanted to make Roman some food before he had to go to Smackdown, I got out of bed when I got that sickly feeling again, I just about made it to the bathroom before I emptied what little I had in my stomach. I was feeling like this for the past week I had a feeling what it was so while he was training yesterday I went to the pharmacy to grab some tests.

I was sitting on the side of the bath staring at the test in my hands I could feel myself shaking and honestly I didn’t know what I wanted this test to say there were so many thoughts going around in my head I could feel myself getting worked up until I heard Roman panicking. I quickly hid the test in the cupboard knowing he doesn’t use it and that’s more for my feminine products, he was sweet In that way. I tried to calm myself down and I walked out the bathroom and looked at him.

“Hey, relax the neighbours would think I’ve been kidnapped” I have him a peck on the cheek. “Now get back in bed you have a long night ahead of you and I don’t want you to complain at me later that you’re tired” we both chuckled, I hugged him and I could feel his muscles intending. “He isn’t coming back...if he was then we would have heard from him...even if he tried something I have the big dog on my side he wouldn’t stand a chance”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you now that I finally have you after so long” he nuzzled his head into my neck, I ran my fingers through his hair as I knew it was the one way that I could calm him down but he would never let Seth or Dean know that. As much as I wanted to try keep that test out of my mind for now I couldn’t help but keep it in my mind. “If I am whose baby would it be?” “What am I going to do?” “Oh god what am I gonna do if it’s Alex’s?” “What if it’s Romans?” “How would he react?”

“I know he isn’t coming around but that doesn’t make me less scared when I wake up and you’re not there”

“Hey...I’m here aren’t I? I’m staying where I am too...I’m not going anywhere I’m yours and no one will change that”

“Y-you’re mine?” He looked straight into my eyes I could see that beautiful smile that I found myself falling for deeper then I ever thought I could. I nodded and held him tighter.

“You know after your match when you went to your dressing room I called Alex but he never answered his phone so I left him a voicemail, I told him that I was done with him and that I wanted nothing to do with him and if he came to find me or conact us that I would call the police, so...I’m all yours Ro...if you’ll have me” I’ve never seen his face light up so much I never wanted to see that smile disappear. He cupped my face and kissed me with so much passion I felt my legs turn to jelly under me. God I loved this man and now I could finally have true happiness with someone who actually wants me.

Ro had just left for smackdown and as I wasn’t scheduled for a match I was going to join him later today he wanted me at ringside and that was something I couldn’t say no to, I rushed to the bathroom and grabbed the test from the cupboard.

Pregnant 2-3 weeks

I shakily held the test in my hands afraid to move, Tears fell from my eyes i wanted to scream but no words would leave my throat, I could be happy about one thing that this child was Romans but now how do I tell him? What would he do? We’ve literally been together less then a day and yet I’m carrying his child...oh god...what would he say? I had an idea to tell him though...I was going to do it today on smackdown. Risky move I know but well I was okay with risky.

I pulled up outside the arena and got out of my car, I walked in and tried to find Roman so I could wish him luck before he got ready for his match so I went down to his lockeroom. As I walked in I felt this sudden rush of queasy ness I ran to the bathroom to throw up again, I already loved this child but it would not let me eat. I could hear roman behind me asking if I was okay, I stood up and cleaned myself up.

“Baby girl? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, probably just something I ate but I’m okay now, you all set?”

“Yep tonight I feel extra lucky, all because I have you in my corner” he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him he leaned closer to kiss me but we were interrupted. “Ayo Uce! Where you at man?” Seems like Jimmy and Jey wanted to wish him luck before his match tonight.

“Guys can you uh gimme a sec?”

“No way...you and Y/N?” Jimmy has this devilish smirk on his face, we knew he would never let it go.

“Uce got his girl! Nice one man” Jey turned to look at me. “You know he never shut up about you”

“Alright you two need to go I gotta get ready for my match” he practically shoved them out of the room. “And y’all need to get ready for yours now go!” He shut the door and walked back over to me. Wrapping his arms around my waist he pulled me right up against him and told me how much he loved me.

The time had come for Romans’ match and he was fighting Baron Corbin, this fued was getting out of hand, I of course had spoken to Vince about the pregnancy he was over the moon about it and he knew I was too stubborn to stay at home and watch everything so he has ideas now of how to involve me in the storyline without me getting in the ring.

Roman would never tell me how the fight would happen or who would win because he wanted me to feel how the audience felt although he would always tell me if it would get to brutal. Of course I understood there’s been many of times he has watched me backstage and rushed to my side to check if I was injured because it looked like something had gone wrong, thankfully it hadn’t but it didn’t scare him less. The only thing he had told me was after baron had delivered the end of days I had to get into the ring but that nothing would happen to me. I trusted roman with my life and that trust continued tonight, as instructed I waited until the end of days was delivered and I got into the ring standing in front of Roman to protect him.

“What?? It seems like Y/N has gotten into the ring to what protect the big dog?” Cole said. Baron squared up to me and grabbed my face “out of my way butch” he threw me to the side, I thought nothing was supposed to happen to me! Intsinctivly I protected my stomach and the unborn baby growing inside me. Just then the crowd erupted into roars as roman got to his feet and gave him superman punch but then continued to beat him down he had this look of fury in his eyes, that wasn’t acting, baron was never meant to lay his hand on me...no one touched the big dogs girl that was the lesson he was trying to teach Corbin. A few minutes later the bell rung and Roman was victorious. I got back into the ring and kissed him making the crowd go absolutely crazy yet again, he grabbed a mic and looked out to the universe. “Tonight was me proving a point” he looked to Corbin “this is my yard now and if you ever touch my girl again I’ll break every bone in your body” at this point he had his back to me so I unzipped the jacket I had on to reveal my t-shirt underneath luckily I had a friend who was into t-shirt designs. He turned around and looked at me and then the shirt, a confused look fell across his face as he read it a few times. “The big dog is having a pup” he spoke into the mic, clearly the wwe universe clicked quicker as the venue was filled with cheers and screams. Something in his mind clicked and I could see tears brimming in his eyes “a-are you pregnant?” I simply nodded I couldn’t speak I was so scared for what he would do next but my fears went away the second he dropped to his knees and placed a kiss to my stomach. What was I so worried about? I loved Roman and he loved me and he will love this baby so much. “I love you two more then words can describe” he looked up at me with such love and devotion in his eyes and the biggest smile on his face.

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXVI

January 12, 2278.

Good question.

Of all the operatives I was trained with, Vanth was the one who took to the program best. Our proctors will ask her to jump, and she’ll jump. If a contract holder asks her to beat a civilian up, she’ll do it without blinking. If a corrupt old pervert asks her to ride her fellow operative so he can get off, she’ll do it without remorse.

It didn’t happen just once, either.

Vanth’s just one of the many people I would’ve loved to put shotgun shells in, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget her cruelty.

Even before the first incident happened, Vanth had always been ruthless. Mag would scold me for calling her a bitch. She said that Vanth is just a product of her upbringing, made worse by the program. And yet, Mag isn’t capable of that kind of shit. Fuck, that’s the damn reason why she was designated as the medic. She’d rather keep us alive than shoot at anyone.

Vanth was different. 

If there’s anything worse than Vanth’s complacency, it was her enthusiasm in inflicting all that hurt on other people. Her cruelty comes from the hatred those responsible for the indoctrination instilled in us: hatred for the insubordinate, hatred for the Reds, hatred for anyone who doesn’t bow to the will of the United States of America and its thirteen commonwealths, and hatred for anyone different. She took all that crap and fucking internalized it.

She hated the protestors for making a mockery of the government. She hated her fellow operatives for failing where she succeeded. She hated Mag. She hated me.

That snake-eyed blonde bitch enjoyed hurting us.

Sometimes, I imagine what life would have been like if I had been as complacent and obedient as Vanth was, if Magwayen didn’t plant ideas that contradict our conditioning in my head, and if Percy didn’t come 200 years later to help me break free from the contract.

I imagine what kind of man, if I can call myself that, I would be if I didn’t have remorse, or if I didn’t have my moral code that I kept to myself, until this woman crawled out of her hole in the ground and appealed to my better nature.

I decided that I do not like that version of me.

All this time, Percy was waiting for my answer patiently, her hands folded under her chin, while she lies on top of me. I can feel her warmth and softness of her body, then I remember Ahzrukhal’s threat to her. I remember the Talon Merc’s orders.

Something dark stirs my decrepit brain.

If they had given me the order, and I had been that man who has no remorse, I would have been like Vanth.

I would have been like Stevie.

A rapist.

Percy’s rapist.

Fucking hell. That’s just sick.

Gently, I push my partner off me and sit up. I turn away from her, ashamed of the thoughts I’ve had. Her words in the hotel room in Rivet City echoes back. The fact that these thoughts disturb me and I feel disgusted at the thought of forcing myself on anyone should reassure me.

I should feel reassured that I am not like Vanth.

But I still feel like shit.

Percy wouldn’t push me to answer if I didn’t want to, I know, but given the circumstances, with Eulogy Jones exposing my past, Percy learning about my fellow operatives, and now me blurting my rapist’s name in my sleep because of a nightmare… I’m willing to pick at the scabs and the leftover bandages off of the goddamn wound.

Maybe this time, it’ll have a chance to heal properly.

“Vanth to me is what Stevie was to you.”

My throat felt dry as I confessed that. Percy seemed stunned. She didn’t say a word or move an inch, probably waiting for me to continue talking, or just taken aback by my admission.

“May 5, 2077. It was my eighteenth birthday… and our contract holder then thought that a nice fuck from my teammate would be a great birthday gift. I couldn’t get any enjoyment out of it even if my body did. I didn’t want it. But I couldn’t say no.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy whispers.

“It was centuries ago. She’s just one of many.”

“That doesn’t make it any right.”

“I know. I was afraid I’d turn out like her.”

I can hear Percy gasp in realization. “So that explains your reaction in the hotel… and how you managed to resist the Talon Merc’s orders. I’m sorry Charon. Had I known where you were coming from when we had that talk, I shouldn’t have made it all about myself.”

“Don’t apologize. I wasn’t ready to talk about it then, anyway. If you didn’t talk to me about what happened to you that night, I wouldn’t be anywhere near confronting my own problems now.”

“Okay. You were also saying my name, while you were dreaming. Big guy, what did you dream of?”

I inhaled deeply.

“I dreamed that she killed you, just as she killed Mag on the day the bombs fell, and I was underneath her again. You… you get the picture.”

Silence.

Gingerly, her fingers pressed against my sides, and she leans over, the contact feeling like a request for permission and a comforting touch at the same time. I held her hands and wrapped her arms around my chest, or at least, what their length permits. Her soft cheek against the side of my neck, the muscles and veins underneath exposed, she whispered where my ear would’ve been.

“Do you want to continue talking, or should I just hold you?”

Heartbeat hammering, my hand wanders to hers, dwarfing it, and I give it a squeeze.

“Hold me.”

“Let’s get to bed so I can do that properly, then.”

She leads me by the hand up to our bedroom, where I lie on our bed, still facing the door out of habit. Percy presses the back of my head against her chest, and she rubs little circles on my shoulder. This won’t go away overnight, but at that moment, I felt safe.

“You’re an angel, you know that?” I tell her.

“Pfft. If you were someone else, I’d have pushed you off the bed for calling me that.”

Percy drapes her arm over me, and I fall asleep listening to her heartbeat.

I didn’t have any more nightmares.

When I woke up hours later, she wasn’t beside me anymore.

Percy’s voice was muffled as she spoke to someone downstairs. I threw on proper clothes, and went down the steps.

“Percy, next time, I’d appreciate a heads up when y’all are plotting something in this town.”

“Are we in trouble, sheriff?” Percy asks.

“Let’s discuss that when you get to the saloon. See you there.”

Lucas Simms  was outside our doorstep, tipping his hat at her. Percy nods at him and closes the door.

“What did the sheriff say?”

“He needs to speak to us in the saloon. Something about the town’s security. This must be about what the slavers did to Doc Church while we were gone… Jesus what have I done?”

“Is the old man alive?”

“He is, thank God. But he’s not fine. Sheriff Simms said that it would be better if I see for myself.”

I nodded grimly. It must be bad.

“Let’s get ready. I need to pick up Dogmeat and get more winter clothes from Moira after that, too.”

Percy threw on a black shirt, then her Vault suit, followed by her jacket. She put on the cap she wore on the day I met her, grabbed her scarf on the way out, and I followed her out the house.

The tenseness came back to her shoulders. I squeezed her hand to reassure her, and she didn’t let it go.

The door to Gob’s Saloon swung open, and Dogmeat ran over to lick Percy’s face, Gob running after him. DeLoria was also there, with a few people from the Abolitionists, and Paladin Cross. Then, we were met by the townsfolk, whooping and cheering.

What the hell?

“I got you good!” Sheriff Simms exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Y'all really think we wouldn’t celebrate when a citizen of Megaton was responsible for bringing down Paradise Falls? The day you went through the gates, I knew I had a good feeling about you, girl!”

Percy’s standing stiff as a pole, eyes wide. “B-but Doc Church, and the slavers coming here and-”

“They can’t put me down that easily.” Doc Church’s voice. The old man comes into view, in crutches, one of his legs in bandages.

Percy gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. “God, Doc what have they done to your leg?”

“They mangled the hell out of my leg but the Sheriff managed to chase ‘em off before they could do anything else. Oh, don’t cry you big baby, I knew the risk when I decided to help you.”

The tenseness in Percy’s shoulders were replaced by shudders from her sobbing.

“I figured the town could use more vigilance ever since that Burke character turned up planning to blow us up. He might’ve ended up killing me if you weren’t a fast shot, too. Now, don’t you cry Percy, dear girl, you’ve done us some good again,” Simms reassures her, patting her back like a father comforting a child.

Nova comes over and pulls Percy to a corner, where she sits with Moira. Butch saunters over and before I can watch the awkwardness that followed, Simms walks over to me.

“And I suppose I owe you my thanks, too,” Simms said, extending his hand. “You’ve been a good friend to Percy. And any friend of hers is a friend of this town. Consider yourself a Megaton citizen too, Charon.”

I gave it a firm and quick shake. The sheriff didn’t recoil in disgust, and just tipped his hat afterwards.

“You kids have some fun. I can’t abandon my duties as sheriff, now.”

“Oh, c’mon Simms! Just one drink!” one of the patrons yell.

I can’t say that I feel overwhelmed by the crowd; I’ve been a bouncer in the Ninth Circle after all. I knew how rowdy people can get when they’re shitfaced. I’ve stopped brawls before. I’ve endured the obnoxious laughter and yelling.

But as I watched my partner surrounded by her friends and being celebrated by strangers from my corner, the gravity of our differences finally sank in.

Usually, when people see me, their first instinct is to stay clear, and regard me with fear or disgust. Sometimes both. When people see Percy, unless they’re raiders or slavers, they greet her, run to her for help, or check her out. Damn, I think that Bittercup kid from Big Town managed to do it all in that order.

Percy really is doing her best to do good. Half of the time, I don’t even know where she can find the motivation to stay that way in this shitsack of a world. Me? I’m just a broken old ghoul who had committed crimes that would send me straight to hell.

She told me that she’s just about to turn twenty the next month. Still so damn young to be shouldering this much responsibility, and yet here she was, organizing people to target slaver rings and doing her part in bringing clean water to the wasteland. On the other hand, I’m past two hundred, and I’m not sure how long I have before I become one of the mindless ferals.

My partner is burning bright, while my fire is slowly dying out.

The worst part is, I want her more than ever.

I shouldn’t be with her. She should be with pretty young smoothskins too.

Looks like I might have to turn her down, if she finally decides to stop waiting.

Percy has no future with me.

My train of thought was interrupted by Gob.

“Hey! Hey, everyone shut up for a moment. The news is on!”

He turned the radio’s volume up, and Three Dog’s voice flooded the room. Everyone went silent.

“News time, children!

Those scumbag Slavers way over in Paradise Falls had one big ole bee on their bonnet, and this baby knew how to sting. Gasp! But what's this? There’s not just one bee, but an entire goddamn colony, and their queen looked suspiciously like a certain kid, from a certain vault. You heard it here first, faithful listeners. The Wanderer showed up with a small army at slaver central and bad guys started dropping left and right. Reports say that among the people present are the Abolitionists Miss 101 herself assisted a few months back, a Brotherhood of Steel Paladin, and of course, her trusty Ghoul Reaper. And to top it all off, they gave us one hell of a pyrotechnics show when they fucking blew that place up to smithereens. Holy shit! Slavers of the Capital Wasteland, consider this the big ‘fuck you’ you've had coming since starting this scurrilous skin trade. What an amazing way to start the year!

What’s next? Is the Wasteland Avenger gonna give the Wasteland clean, fresh water too? Oh wait, she’s already working on that! Good job, kid! Just don’t burn yourself out, for chrissake. Keep fighting the Good Fight! The Wasteland is rootin’ for ya!

This is Galaxy News Radio and-”

“Hey! They didn’t mention me!” DeLoria cuts in, and laughter breaks out.

“If he starts calling me ��Queen Bee’, I’m knocking his door down and stealing his headwrap. I’ve got enough embarrassing epithets already,” Percy sighs, downing a shot of scotch. Then, she turns, eyes searching, and her eyes land on me.

“Big guy! C’mon, sit next to me,” she calls out, and I obliged. Gob slides me a beer.

“It’s on the house. Consider it as thanks for getting back at those scumbag slavers for us.”

I nod and down half the bottle in a gulp.

Yeah, damn it all, I’ll celebrate, why the fuck not.

“Oh, it’s great that I finally caught you two here in Megaton!” Moira exclaims, striding towards us with a box in her hands. Goddamn. And I thought I was going to have a good night. This is the weirdo that made Percy drink atom bomb water.

“Now, I know you probably experienced it before,” she said, motioning to me after setting the box on the table. “But this is Percy’s first winter out here in the Wasteland! Here, as a show of my appreciation for getting rid of those mean slavers, I got you two some warm clothes!”

“Wow, it’s like you read my mind! Thank you so much for these, Moira.”

“No problem! Maybe we could work on a winter survival guide next?”

Panicked, I shake my head and Percy laughs.

“I think I’m going to take a break from experiments for now, Moira.”

“Oh? What’re you up to?”

“We’re gonna bring clean water to the Wasteland.”

[vaspider]

New & Updated Intro Post

My intro post is now incredibly outdated, so, here’s an entirely new one. Let’s start with a few important updates:

If you like what I do? Consider hiring me, consider buying something from NerdyKeppie (the shop I own with my spouse - we do custom work!), consider buying me a coffee or becoming a Patron or tossing some money in my PayPal tip jar.

I am a disabled, queer, fat, Jewish non-binary butch whose entire income is derived from selling Quality Queerwear via our company NerdyKeppie (we also offer patches of all sorts, nerd gear, etc -- if you don’t see it, ask!), Patreon (queer fiction for a dollar) and freelance work. Please consider supporting me if you like what I do!

Yes, I used to identify as femme and in 2018 I came out as butch and forgot to update my intro post for like a year. So, yes, at one point I identified as femme, largely due to social pressure and trying to be something I wasn’t. 2018 is the year I claimed my butch soul, and holy shit, I’ve never been happier. This is not an indication of me not understanding butch and femme - it’s an understanding that no matter how old you get, you are constantly on a journey to understand yourself better. Or, at least, you should be. 

At one point I identified as pansexual as well as bisexual, and I like the header art with the pansexual flag in it which was made for me years ago, so even though I no longer identify as pansexual, I’m keeping it until I find something I like better. You’d think I wouldn’t have to explain all this but people love picking at these things. 

No, I am not going to debate the history or meaning of butch and femme with you or anyone. The links are in my header. 

If you’re here to hateread, do yourself a favor and don’t. That’s just not healthy. And for the love of G-d, stop linking to my posts. I can see your posts, y’all; I have a site tracker. It’s just awkward and kind of sad. 

Okay, so anyway. 

Radfems, TWERFs, SWERFs and REGs/Exclusionists are explicitly not welcome here, and I do not want my family stories or life used for your politics. I block all of these categories, full stop. Radfems & TWERFs/TERFs deny the essential humanity of myself and my daughter and Exclusionists are just sort of painfully clueless about community history and what the community actually looks like offline. if you self-ID as one of those, please save us all the trouble and just don’t. If you’ve reblogged one of my posts and added something about how this proves one of your points, please pretend you respect other people and take it down.

If you are here because you don’t understand the post about the dog that attacked me, or its point, either legitimately or because you don’t really want to get it & want to argue with me about it, tell me I need to get counseling for my fear of dogs, tell me I’ve compared men to dogs, please go read seananmcguire explaining the post to someone who already sent me an ask about it. That pretty much covers why the post exists. Also you should buy and read Seanan’s books.

Also, also, all of the stories about @seananmcguire you’ve heard are probably true if they’re bizarre or funny. Especially the one about the lizard and the one about the frog.

If you’re here to tell me my views on asexuality & the queer community are wrong or that stuff I lived through & you weren’t born yet for is ‘ahistorical,’ go away. This blog is explicitly anti-gatekeeping for the Not-Straight Club.

If you’re here about the post about my great-grandmother, I kind of don’t have it in my heart to answer all the sad family stories. If you shared a family story on that post, thank you. If you want to use it to make some sort of gross radfem point about marital rape or some comment about how my great-granddad should have learned to pull out, I’m gonna block you without answering you. Don’t be gross.

If you’re here about the tiny house post, please read the notes, I’m not gonna explain it again.

Anon is never turned on, but if you ask me not to publish an ask, I won’t. Please remember to put that in the ask.

So here’s some stuff you should know about me:

I’m older than large portions of Tumblr, and in a fair number of cases I’m probably twice your age or more. If that’s a problem, I really am not offended if you aren’t cool with interacting with me. Age can be a powerful unbalancer in social relationships. I AM going to get annoyed if you start ‘explaining’ stuff I lived through to me and insisting you know my history better than I do.

Since it bears repeating one more time: I’m not interested in interacting with TWERFs, SWERFs, or ace-exclusionary queers. I’ve been Out for nearly 30 years & I really have no desire to argue my lived experience with anyone. I explicitly reject the term SGA.

My immediate family consists of my spouse @dadhoc, our beloved @apocalycious, my   teenage daughter @mistresskabooms and stepson, my adopted son Owl, and DadHoc, MK and I’s 3 dogs: Lyudmila Pupperchenko (Mila), Captain Malcolm Reynolds (Cap), and Ser Davos Seawoof (Davos).

My brother’s band is Downtrodder and you should listen to them, because they’re awesome.

No one in my immediate family is cis or het. I have been called Spider for 20+ years, & now a lot of people call me Mama Spider.  

In this house we understand that Ally is a verb, and it’s possible to be antagonistic toward a marginalization that you possess. Internalized transphobia, ableism, etc. are hellacious things to uproot. In this house we try to stay in our lanes & we understand call-outs while being aware of the toxic parts of call-out culture. Be cool to teenagers: you were one, and yes, the shit you said was just as stupid. You don’t win points for browbeating a teenager over an idea, you just look like a jerk.

I used to have a lot of paragraphs here about specific beliefs of mine, but really: Ally is a verb, intersections matter, capitalism is broken and cannot be fixed. I understand the difference between a bolt of linen and four shirts and believe that labor is entitled to all it creates. My class is ‘petit bourgeois,’ as I have seized the means of my own production.

If you screw up and you say something that hurts someone, say you’re sorry, and try not to do it again. It’s not that hard! Don’t tell them they shouldn’t be hurt. This goes double if it was an accident. “I didn’t know that was offensive, I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll be more mindful in the future.” See how easy that is? That’s how we do in this house.

I’m bisexual, non-binary, disabled, neurodiverse, and don’t want pity or to hear how sorry you are for either of those last two things. Being autistic is just fine, and it didn’t happen because I was vaccinated. I have PTSD and GAD, and I live with both of them. They’re terrible roommates but I’ve got used to them. I’d like it if people would just stop throwing shade at the invisibly ill when we park in handicapped spots – I’m missing part of my spine, for fuck’s sake – and playing Oppression Olympics will get you stern looks and no dessert.

In this house we do nerd culture, there are no fake geek girls, and we understand that women invented masked superheroes (The Scarlet Pimpernel), science fiction (Mary Shelley), the modern novel (Jane Austen), dystopia fiction (Mary Shelley again), computer programming (Ada Lovelace and the ENIACs, which is my new band name), and got Star Trek on the air (Lucille Ball).

If I didn’t cover it, assume if it involves being a jerk or punching down, I’m not okay with it.

If it involves dogs being adorable, otters, mermaids, spiders, most of the major fandoms Tumblr loves (I can’t get into Supernatural, sorry, I tried), or people doing awesome shit, I am definitely here for that.

I am a Social Justice Paladin. I tank trolls. I used to think I was a Rogue, but, yeah, I tank trolls. 

About six months ago, someone started calling me the ‘Non-Binary Regent of Summer,’ and I ran with that like an Olympic torch. Yep. It me. 

@hypoallergeniccuddles thinks I’m secretly Mrs. Weasley.

That may be true also. If so, please remember what happens when you fuck with Molly’s children.

Welcome. Supper is at seven, the Wizard Home will make a room for you if you need it.

This post will be repeated a few times over the next few days so everyone sees it. <3 Thanks. I’m glad you’re all here.