#''what the fuck is going on over there'' is like. so difficult as an activist

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[thisisthinprivilege]

How can I overcome internalized fatphobia? How can I not hate what I look like when I'm fat?

This is going to be a different process for everyone, so I'm not sure what will work for you. I will let you know what worked for me, and hopefully you find it helpful.

Deprogramming Step One: Coming to grips with having been programmed in the first place. Beauty standards change from age to age, they are not inborn as far as our research is able to conclude. There's perhaps a weak preference for facial symmetry, but that's about it. Weight-based beauty standards have not only varied wildly through human history, they vary in our very own era, between-cultures. Often what we believe we find beautiful has been programmed into us from a very early age. There's no conspiracy, it's simply how cultural preferences are transmitted within-culture: through the adults we look up to, media, and reinforced by peers. That's not to say deprogramming is a simple matter. It's very difficult. I wonder now, almost 15 years after starting my own journey to deprogram myself, whether who I find beautiful or attractive is rooted in beauty standards I saw reflected as a kid or teen.

Deprogramming Step Two: Define and avoid thin-centric messaging. A big part of this for me was controlling the media I consumed. I unsubscribed to cable, for instance, because of the intrusive and omnipresent weight loss ads. That was 15 years ago, but it's surprising how similar some streaming services/channels are in terms of ad length and intrusiveness these days. Unfortunately, tiktoks/reels aren't entirely controllable. Even though I don't consume weight loss or diet content, weight loss/diet tiktoks/reels pop up occasionally. Besides ads, you should also consider whether your magazines, books, movies, and shows over-focus on the stories of thin people, or demonize fat people. Obviously, stop watching exploitative shows that turn the lives of fat people into sideshows or sob stories. More controversially, you might want to temporarily unsubscribe or mute fat activist content. Fat activism is a highly stressful space where we confront the hatred of fat people explicitly. It's not great for deprogramming thin-centric messaging, because fat activists will be talking about thin-centric messaging from a critical perspective. Take a break, for a while.

Deprogramming Step Three: Exposure to fat-positive content. This is the fun part of the process, where you get a chance to rewrite the aesthetic coding in your brain! I suggest searching out fat models who wear the kind of clothing you like, fat role models who share your interests, fat positive videos showcasing fat people doing amazing things, fat positive art, fat positive fiction and movies, and so on. Fatshion is full of fat positivity. Be wary of "body positive" content, as it can still be subtly or explicitly fatphobic. I warn you, after a few months of exposure to a different aesthetic, thin-centric media is gonna look hella strange. You'll go to see some romcom-flavor-of-the-month movie and be like, "Where are all the fat people? Why is everyone super skinny?"

Deprogramming Step Four: From theory to practice. This step is about starting to wear the clothes you want to wear, being loud and proud to exist as a fat person in public, being romantically bolder if romance is your thing, being more assertive and confident in your body, traveling to the places you've always wanted to go, doing things you were holding back doing before, etc. You may need to dwell in Step Three for a while, or revisit it over and again, in order to complete Step Four. This doesn't mean becoming an activist. This means becoming your authentic self without fat-related qualms. Yes, you will still be constrained by the greater world around you. Traveling, going out to eat, dating, interviewing for jobs, even going to a fucking concert will present constraints and bigotries that smaller people (everything else held equal) don't have to face. But you can now see them as constraints placed on you, not as constraints you place on yourself or that are in any way deserved. Hopefully, you will be able to face them without it destroying your sense of self-worth.

Deprogramming Step Five: The authentic self...? We know that as fat people we are not morally or otherwise inferior to thin(ner) people. So what does it mean to leave our best and most authentic lives, as fat people? This is the human question, that all humans share with each other equally. We are connected to each other, each on our own grand journey to answer this question. When you are able to separate the sociocultural difficulty of being a fat person in a fat-hating society from your own life journey, you have one less barrier to manage in answering the great human question. At this stage, you'll feel calm and comfortable in your body, and surprised when people point out your fatness or treat you differently for it. They're distracted by false moral categories, while you have better things to do. Does anyone ever permanently dwell in this stage? Probably not. But I feel like this most of the time, now. It takes a lot to drag me back into the world where one of the worst things you can call another human is "fatty." I've got books to read and write, math to learn, art to create. A life to live, where my possibilities are not defined by the size of my body.

-ArteToLife

[charlottan]

Big spoilers for those who haven't read Dorely. Like seriously don't read this, you need to go into the story knowing nothing about it.

I read half of dorely (300k words) in two days. I spent 80% of my free time dorelying.

Forcefem has never interested me in the slightest. The story has provided 0 erotic interest so far, although I never expected it to once I saw reviews talking about crying over the story. I thought it would be a joke until I saw that.

The best part, so far, was Bea's chapter.

It was masterfully placed within the narrative. Perched at just the precipice, and I might conspire, placed so perfectly that I bet reader feedback inspired it; right before the questions about Bea get overwhelming and, consequently, shortly before the story would suffer from lack of answers.

Contents of the chapter. Phew. Whew. Gosh.

Ever listened to an old LGBT activist? Someone in their 60s-70s, who was there. Who held the line and suffered the abuse and lost everything, the kind who's seen more funerals than has had friends, and yet the banner was still held high in their hands thanks to their efforts?

Bea's chapter was like listening to one of them tell their stories. It was like sitting in a club with an old tranny while he told me a story that has spilled so many tears from his eyes that he has none left for it.

The force-femmed girls of Dorely obviously have a difficult time with their gender, with "trans woman" seeming to rarely cover how they truly feel about it. But Bea's chapter was about them. The author brought those ideas out from their story and placed them in the real world for a moment.

Isn't it funny that the most erotic the story gets up to that point, is that point? I was nervous about the story before that point. Maybe "nervous" is the wrong word; anxious about potential failure points. Places where the author could easily have fallen off a cliff and lost the plot on the long flight down.

So this is a "fetish" force-fem story about young men being femminized in a cult-like environment against their will in a woman-factory sex dungeon. Posted anonymously on Ao3. So how the FUCK is the first sex scene a tear-jerking happy moment between two old trans women near the middle of the story.

That is to say that it defied expectation. Constantly. At that point in the story I was imagining the author to be almost like Bea. Until directly afterward, when a FUCKING AGDQ REFERENCE pops up. Clumsy but unexpected, a meme in the night, it was effective.

It is edited. I have not seen one mistake in 300k words. The story construction is solid, never faltering even once, never going too slow, although I am still a kid in a candy store, wishing I had more; it never fails, but there are points where I felt like it could exceed. I had no answers as for how, just that my mind wanted mastery due to my defied expectations. That's asking too much. Like that other anon who rated it 6/10 <J:) It does not have to be better than what it is.

This story has a great deal of variety in it. Bea's chapter was also a tipping point in that. The author takes the time to pointedly show off different threads of the world. You had Stefan enduring the basement for one. Christine had 3 threads; Dorely Hall, Transgender Troubles and Secret Agent. Stefan had, also, a Manipulation Line story thread. You get what I mean.

Bea's chapter retroactively added more nuance to an extant thread throughout the story, which was more like a side plot based on our ignorance of the nature of Dorely; how quick are they to get to violence? Even after that chapter I still wasn't completely sure until a little bit later. That was good. That tension was necessary. I can't wait to see what the reward is, now that the tension is thoroughly unwound after the Maria Incident.

Thanks for constantly shitposting about this story. You are an angel for this author, having brought hundreds of people to it. That is astonishingly kind.

posting this without reading it because im only like a fourth through but awesommeeee o7 i assume

[myrddin-wylt]

reading the transcript of US ambassador to Hungary David Pressman's remarks today and I am losing my shit laughing. he's so fucking done. his sense of diplomatic professionalism and subtlety is hanging on for dear fucking life. come on an adventure with me.

I'll start halfway through but really the entire speech is equally as passive aggressive, this is just when he's most obvious about it.

As the United States Ambassador, I have heard, repeatedly, from senior Hungarian officials concerns about the treatment of ethnic Hungarians in Ukraine. We take – I take – those concerns very seriously. And, more importantly, I know Hungarians, across this country, take those concerns very seriously. This is an issue that merits our attention. And it has it. In any society, laws affecting language and education have a profound impact on affected communities – and on their dignity. We recognize this, and that’s why, in virtually all of my meetings with Hungarian officials whose work touches on this issue, I tell them the United States is your friend. We are prepared to work with you to address this. Tell us how we can help resolve this issue of contention between our ally Hungary and our close partner Ukraine. If this is a serious issue, we should address it seriously and make an effort to solve it. If there is genuine political will to solve it, make no mistake, it can be solved. We remain ready to work with our Hungarian allies and Ukrainian partners to engage if it would be helpful in finding a resolution.

translation: Hungary, you are the problem here. this is your last opportunity to stop being the problem before we decide how we want to solve you.

At the same time, we are troubled by Hungarian officials’ instrumentalization of the NATO Alliance to address these bilateral concerns. Amidst a land war in Europe, consultations with our partner Ukraine are vitally important to our shared security as Allies, and Hungary’s policy of standing alone in an effort to block high-level meetings of the NATO-Ukraine Commission is untenable, and as was seen just last month, will no longer be accepted.

translation: Hungary is not valuable to NATO and in fact has become a liability that we are preparing to cut loose. tread carefully.

Let’s focus on addressing the serious concerns raised by Hungarians, and standing resolutely with the Ukrainians as they fend off an invasion by the Russians. And let’s focus on the facts on the ground. To that end, we are so pleased to assemble a diverse group of activists, experts, journalists who have reported from the front lines, and individuals with long experience working to improve Hungary-Ukraine relations. I am confident this will be a stimulating discussion about what is happening in Ukraine during this difficult period.

translation: welcome to an hour or however long of being lectured and humiliated for acting like such cunts. This stimulating discussion has a scripted ending that I am confident you will not be deviating from.

I want to specifically note the presence here today of our colleagues from the Ukrainian Embassy. We value our close relationship with your team and look forward to continued cooperation. Ukraine faces unprecedented challenges, to its security, its prosperity, its democracy – indeed, its fundamental right to exist. Yet brave Ukrainian soldiers are defending their homeland in pursuit of a just and lasting peace, and inspirational activists carry on their work to ensure Ukraine continues making progress on the democratic, European path its people chose in 1991.

translation: Ukraine you are such an angel and we're so happy you're here and we will choose you over Hungary without hesitation.

The United States and its Allies and partners will stand with Ukraine for as long as it takes to ensure that its people are able to realize their aspirations for a brighter future. For the rest of the afternoon, I’m going to leave you in the hands of my trusted and talented deputy, David Holmes, to moderate these discussions. I am sure you’ll have a productive event.

translation: I'm going to count to 10 and when I finish you better have cleaned this shit up or I'm going to kick your ass.

[drdemonprince]

Can you talk more about the "doing harm" thing or share some reads you like about it? Everyone seems to have a different definition and I struggle with the difference of what's offensive to an individual vs harmful to a community

My sense of this is something that I have developed over the course of years, based on reading fairly widely about systemic oppression, boundary setting, activist organizing, and interpersonal dynamics. And for me it never stops developing as I continue to reflect more and see how various takes on the topic play out in various communities.

I don't have any specific resources to recommend that spell out how to develop that sense per se, because that all comes down to personal discernment, but I would encourage people to read authors whose analysis of systemic oppression is firmly rooted in anti-capitalism and abolitionism. If someone's perspective on social justice is not rooted in collective liberatory work, then it's just using identity as a means of selling a personal brand a lot of the time.

Writers that i've gotten a lot from include: bell hooks, Angela Davis, Rabbi Ruti Reagan, Aubrey Gordon, Emma Dabiri, Captain Awkward, Koa Beck, and Julia Serano. Some of these writers are more explicitly political than others, but even the ones who are more focused on social norms and boundaries (like Captain Awkward and Ruti Reagan) take a focus that is pretty targeted and practical.

Ultimately, you are gonna disagree with people sometimes about what is harmful. For example, I do not think thought crimes or emotion crimes are a thing. I don't even really think taste or media consumption crimes are a thing. My sister is eagerly playing the new harry potter game right this very moment and I fully do not give a shit. I would rather that she find a way to pirate it so that she wasn't compensating JKR by playing it, enriching JKR is undeniably harmful, but I have zero interest in convincing her not to like a media property, because in her personal conduct she is the only stalwart advocate I have in my family, and I've seen the positive impact that she has on the queer kids at the high school where she works.

my sister's real-life impact on the world matters to me a lot more than her liking this stupid ass game, enough for me to not choose this particular battle. I don't think fighting with her about it would bring any good into the world. In fact, it would drive us apart and make my life, her life, and our mother's life significantly worse. I could understand why people would disagree with me or handle their own affairs differently.

I think broadly speaking most of the social justice oriented internet has wildly lost any reasonable sense of scale or priority as well as tactics on a variety of matters, so we wind up creating tensions within our communities over smaller or symbolic forms of harm even when that makes it more difficult for us to tackle more significant sources of harm in a shared way. my sister cares about trans people, she fights for abortion rights, she's anti cop enough to have persuaded someone close to her not to go to the police academy, and she also is a potter enjoying disney adult. i love her to pieces and im so glad she is alive and i know she's a net positive on this earth. i dont think me haranguing her over her media habits leads to her having a better impact on this earth, and i know it would fuck my life up.

that said, i can't determine what is harmful (or on what scale it is harmful) for anybody else. many people would be very reasonably torn up over their beloved trans friendly sibling still being interested in playing the mega terf antisemitism game. that's all real, and that game and the person who birthed its IP are truly terrible. but i tend to see even the problem of harry potter's success as being a systemic one not an individual choice driven one, so. in this case it's one i let go of.

[waitingforeddyneddy]

Lmao I AM the old mod from Reddit. Just a few points

1) my friend did see them at merrily we roll along. Idk why this changes things. I still don’t like Ariana, she’s an ass. And I find it very telling that JB hangs out and associates with her and it HAS dimmed my interest in him, I still like HIM, but it’s definitely annoyed me. I won’t be seeing wicked, and I’m not convinced it will be good. 2 parts? Why?

2) I do still feel like the JB sub is very strict with voicing opinions. One of my comments recently got locked because I mentioned that I didn’t think JB should brag about meeting president Biden at the moment and I was told not to bring politics into the sub. Somewhat difficult, when JB is angling himself as a political activist/foundation member. But fair enough, it’s their sub and their rules.

3) I didn’t say Simone was jobLESS, I said it was weird she didn’t book as much as her counterparts. I put 0 blame on Simone for this btw - I said I feel like her management team was dropping the ball. Being the lead in a top show on Netflix should have put her on the short list for actresses that year. Fast forward to now, & the strike has delayed whatever project she’s in. That sucks. Because the only thing we’ll have seen from her in the last two years is Bridgerton s2 & 3.

4) I agree JB didn’t do much press for s2. And I still say, he won’t for 3. I didn’t say he’s too big for it. I said he might not want to, and if he’s busy (wicked reshoots and whatever project he books next - a play? Idk) he probably won’t make room for it. Also? Why would I think he’d do press for 3 when they *barely* promoted him for 2. He got his solo articles for 2, he’s not going to do that for 3.

I don’t really remember what else was in the comment but here you go!

Y’all don’t like JB (some of you even hate him) and that’s fine, everyone’s allowed an opinion. I wouldn’t say I’m a huge fan of Simone, I don’t hate her, I just don’t really care either way and people were really pissed at my opinion that she should have booked more after s2 lol.

I read your comments because I agree with some of the things posted, I disagree with a lot. But isn’t that what open dialogue is about?

Anyways, happy holidays!

happy holidays to you anon

listen, you know what I think about JB, I won't say that I hate him cause at the end of the day I can't hate a person I will never meet. I feel an intense dislike for him based on his public persona. Kudos to you for admitting that your interest in him has dimmed. If I was his fan I would be much the same cause you have to admit he surrounds himself with nasty people. Ariana Granda was an asshole way before she came out as a serial homewrecker, there's no one I hate more than privileged celebrities who use their fame and money to treat regular people as trash and we all know those horror stories that always surrounded her about her treatment of workers. Lmao she basically admitted she's a cunt in one of her songs, when people tell you who they are, believe them. As for JB, I don't know if his friendship with her is PR or not, It kinda doesn't make sense since I think his Wicked character doesn't even end up with her right? (I don't know Wicked very well) but it was very obvious those photos were staged because the way they were acting was embarassing and the fact that he keeps bringing them up and the buzz they generated as something surprising is even more embarassing for him. This is why I think he's fake as hell. What do you mean you can't believe people were talking about them and the fact some people thought they were a couple? Not everyone knows you're gay buddy, and they way you and and one of the most famous pop stars were all over each other is bound to create talk so stop acting kind of annoyed about the "straight allegations". Then there's his whole friendship with Matt Bomer, another gay man who wasted a good opportunity to shut the fuck up and punctual as a clock posted an israeli flag on his insta. The reality of Fellow Travelers is there for all to see. Paramount, the conservative author, the producers, writers and cast members seem to be zionists and JB himself was part of Israeli pink washing propaganda. Honestly kudos to you for saying your fave talking about being happy about meeting Biden is not a brag and them telling you to keep quiet is another reason JB fans are the biggest hypocrites cause what the fuck does it mean keep politics out when JB himself said he wants to be political lmao? he photodumped his israel vacation, he's proud of his zionist show, he's happy about meeting Biden. Ladies and gentlemen, I think it's best if you start accepting your fave is not on the right side of things at all, yikes. He's one of the cast members of Bridgerton who said he wants to be political but couldn't bother to post ANYTHING regarding a simple call for a caesefire, in the name of human rights being stomped and all the kids who are losing their parents or even worse their lives. Fucking yikes. And he wants to be political? Does he think being political is only about going to galas, meeting famous people and having drinks? Or does he think it's only all about queer rights? He's white, he's rich, I think he can afford to speak about queer rights AND human rights since he wants to get "political". Nah, I don't think he's a good person at all and the more I see and read the more I feel validated in my opinion.

As for Simone and her career...I don't know what's going to happen, I'm patiently waiting for news, she seems happy and I'm good with that. Of course I wish for more, we'll see. I don't think it's right to compare her to her other costars. Actors from Bridgerton who have been booked and busy are Phoebe and JB, they're both white with connections. Even Rege, who was the actor everyone couldn't stop talking about when Bridgerton came out, didn't book much. I mean he did a couple of movies but nothing that matched the level of hype he got. We all know why.

[reborrowing]

I don't usually write gt pet stuff because it's such a pain to get something compelling and believable that still has room for characters and plot, but there is a worldbuilding variant of it I keep kinda idly chewing on.

obvious content warning for pet trope discussion under cut

Basically "pets" were sold at some point in the recent past, marketed as somewhere between a toy and a pet and branded as an ingenious, but artificial, development. There's some initial backlash but overall, tinies are branded as especially convincing mimics by a family-oriented company that has an upstanding reputation. The “pets” catch on as a fad and a good chunk of the population has or wants one.

Over a couple of decades, it gets fairly normalized until it eventually comes out that no, the backlash was entirely warranted, these are absolutely, unquestioningly people, not clever simulacra. They were shrunk down by whatever HandwaveTech and sold off after conditioning. Public outcry continues to build, the involved companies are investigated and ultimately shut down. It takes longer to set up any real protections or entirely outlaw the process.

But more than that, there's no real way to find and reach out to victims on a large scale. A good number of them were initially sold as toys, there's no paper trails, and there’s no definite estimate as to how many are out there. Awareness campaigns and advocacy organizations crop up to help ex-pets escape or to provide shelter, but (especially before everyone had multiple phones/computers perpetually hooked up to the internet) it isn’t too difficult to keep a tiny in the dark about what happens beyond your property line. Once the issue has had its five minutes of fame, aid programs quietly fizzle. Anyone involved essentially gets to deal with it on their own.

So you end up with the usual g/t problems from being out of scale and unequal and can grab at the trauma and uncertain personhood from pet trope but it’s not quite as straightforward as victimized pet-race, oppressive giants, and protagonist-coded rebels. You can get younger tinies who've lived their whole lives free and tinies who have seen the horrors of what people will do to someone who can't fight back and tinies who've "gotten over it" and are good taxpaying citizens who absolutely refuse to talk about it and tinies that still believe their best bet is to find a caring not-owner-because-that's-illegal-now, who've only ever experienced kind dehumanization and can't fathom surviving any other way.

You can skip over good-aligned humans reasonably encountering tinies for the first time and going “oh my godddddd it never occurred to me that the tiny people-looking things might be tiny people, it’s time to do a 180 and become a white knight about this.” To an outsider, the problem’s already been outlawed and solved and they shouldn’t have to think about this tragic thing that happened, past tense. You can have mixed-size groups of activists without humans in the group Rejecting Societal Norms and getting stuck with samey character traits. There’s still space for characters who are ambivalent or fine with the idea of pets without coming across as off-the-wall evil because 20 years ago it was normalized and they never questioned it. In-universe, it would be more like an old guy being unapologetically sexist: unacceptable, but not entirely unexpected.

idk just like. Reflects some gray areas a little better than "collective humanity saw little guys and put them in cages and no one thought that was fucking weird until you, random nice guy protagonist" which is something I feel like I see a lot of.

[hyperdemona]

I actually started carrying pepperspray not because of men, but because a dog bit me and I want to be safe if I were to get attacked again.

Getting bit by this dog (puncture wounds bleeding down my leg, assumed he was running after me to ne friendly till he got close, I was young and oh my bike. Like he literally bolted down an street while I was biking, bit my ankle hard. Flat out aggressive targeted behavior I was biking around a park and he came out of nowhere .) It taught me to start yelling “hey! HEY! NO! Back up!” Dogs can sense anger, dogs can sense territorial animal behavior which is exactly what I’m doing, defending myself territory Aka body. I had this dumb territory try and go after my ankle while biking, I kept yelling “hey, hey, hey, hey,” everyrime I saw him going for my ankle… he stopped and barked all mad and fucked off. Scared the shit out of me when I saw a stuffy loose, held just pepper spray and told him to back up (insecure nervous dog bit thar is also a type that might bite if feeling threatened, he backed off.)

It’s kinda like men; get angry and scream like a bitch and they freak out from that energy.

(Ofc this won’t always work and I don’t blame kids just dumping in your inbox that I get your hate for dogs… I’m grown, not a child, child can’t defend themselves. I was still a girl when I

got bit and I love dogs I’m like wtf 😭😭 I don’t hate dogs, But don’t love them so ouch anymore and don’t blame you for hating dogs…

I don’t get the cat hate from folks, truly; when has a stray cat or a cat that gets out go around attacking folks? I’d trust a cat around a kid before I trusted a dog.

Wondering if so often they say “men are like dogs, women are like cats” cause cats have good boundaries and are “selfish” while dogs are dumb and bark at anything that moves?

I genuinely dislike dogs. Puppies are cute but it's HARD to like dogs these days if ur in Keralam these days. It's sooo bad here. Spaying and neutering have completely failed. It works in western countries because stray populations are low in the first place because of harsh weather, so many do not survive the winter. You only need to spay/neuter/vaxx the rest and have them be adopted. Doesn't work here because these things don't die off naturally and when there's enough of them to form literal wolf-packs, they LITERALLY just start hunting kids for food. Man that poor autistic boy, the villagers are still in shock.

Who tf is going to adopt murder dogs? We don't even allow dogs indoors or consider animals family the way they do in white western countries, it is not our culture. Animals get treated like animals, not people. In fact, dog lovers adopting fancy breeds to raise and then letting them loose in the streets when they get sick and difficult to look after (apparently long-haired western breeds don't do well in the tropics and get sick, WHO'D HAVE THOUGHT 🙄) are the ones that caused this in the first place.

Dogs regularly break into daycares and playschools and attack kids. It's happened multiple times over the last decade. I've seen idiot animal activists even call for an end to spaying/neutering because "dogs have a right to natural reproduction like people do". This is who you're arguing with.

[sitp-recs]

Heyyy! Just want to start by saying your blog is brilliant and one of my all time go to resources in the fandom :) you’re a damn treasure trove 😊

If you have the time, I was wondering if you could rec any dialogue heavy drarry fics? I’m finding recently that it’s difficult for me to read huge story chapters with no dialogue - my funny brain tends to drift :) they don’t have to be completely dialogue, but dialogue driven would be great!

I know this is a bit of a weird one so feel free to ignore. Have a great day! Thank you ❤️

Oh wow, thank you for the kind words! I really appreciate it. As for fics with good/lots of dialogue, I think you might enjoy these:

Sex, Lies, and Veritaserum by lettered (E, 18k)

This entire fic is one long conversation about sex.

White as Snow by @bixgirl1 (E, 19k)

After a quick escape from danger, Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a blizzard, a small cabin their only refuge from the storm. It's the perfect place to recover and regroup — and to have a long-overdue conversation or two.

(Un)wanted by @aibidil (E, 36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

Embers by @shiftylinguini (E, 41k)

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice. Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter.

The Pure and Simple Truth by lettered (G, 65k)

Harry, Draco, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, and Pansy go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Pansy―you guessed it―go to a pub. I could go on. In fact, I did. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Pansy, Ron, Blaise, Luna, Goyle, Neville, and Theodore Nott go to a pub. In various combinations.

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by @writcraft (E, 65k)

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always.

Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by aibidil (E, 80k)

In which a group of wizards' rights activists goes on the offensive after a prohibition against love potions, forcing the magical world to confront the horror of magic's role in sexual assault and the murky legal nature of consent. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco are swept together to solve the case, and in the process they're made to confront their own love and lust—with and without potions.

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop (E, 113k)

Harry doesn’t mind that so many Slytherins from his year have returned to finish their NEWTs, really he doesn’t. It’s just – do they have to be so friendly? He’s not prejudiced, really he’s not. It’s just – they’ve got to be up to something, right? Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

When Times are Dire by aibidil (E, 130k)

Magical Britain is screwed, and it's once again up to Harry to save it. This time, by marrying Draco Malfoy.

This Ain't the Garden of Eden by @romaine2424 (E, 131k)

In 2020, Hit Wizard Harry is starting to enjoy his life. He’s divorced, and no longer Head Auror. His biggest project these days is trying to remodel 12 Grimmauld Place for him and the kids. Draco Malfoy is recovering from his wife’s death. But is happy with his Ministry position as Temporary Head of the Department of Intoxicating Substances, and with his son who he adores.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Away Childish Things by lettered (T, 153k)

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

[hextechmaturgy]

i'm sorry but you and the person in your replies are stupid if you think "we all agree israel should be kicked from the show ❤️" is a good excuse to watch and fund by viewing a TV show that OPENLY supports israel and zionism, going as far as even having a ZIONIST SONG win one of the contests. what you're basically saying is, "Yeah, we all agree, amazon should treat its workers better ❤️" then ordering next day delivery. european or not, you're dismissing the struggles and suffering of palestinians and funding a show that openly supports israel and zionism. saying, "i disagree with israel and want them off the show," literally isn't enough. but honestly, this is the most european attitude to have towards the situation, so i honestly don't know why i'm surprised. also - some contestants holding a flag for palestine doesn't negate the support the show itself gives to israel. you need to remember that the people suffering in palestine are real and more important than a competition show for, historically, the most racist countries on earth with shit music on it. the fact that you stating "indeed!" and the user in your replies stating you're both aware of the situation is worse than being ignorant and unaware. i will block you just because you are clearly going to die on this hill because what does it matter to you, a white european person, if brown people die so long as you get to watch your silly little music show, which you know, is still openly supporting israel by not excluding them from the competition despite russia's removal. i suppose the white victims of russia are easier to empathise with than the brown lives lost in palestine. i'm embarrassed that i ever bought any of your art.

hello again :) first of all, i appreciate that you're passionate about this topic, it's a good cause to champion and i'm sure there are a lot of ignorant ESC fans that could use the reminders, lord knows you can't escape the zionists on twitter. alas, you don't know me personally, and i don't know you at all, so our back and forth here on tumblr dot com asks seems a bit pointless, especially if you're blocking me anyway? hence my brevity before, but maybe that came across as me generally not giving a damn about anything, and if so, i am sorry

eurovision's 'apolitical' stance (as if anything can be apolitical) is and always has been bullshit, whether it's about how hip europe pretends to be regarding queer issues, misogyny, and other major conflicts like the ones you brought up, such as the war with russia and, of course, israel and palestine. this really isn't a well kept secret, and neither is the response this incites in activists everywhere. there have been protests, petitions, boycotts, there's a heated discussion about eurovision every time we have eurovision, and rightly so, i fully encourage them. the sad truth in my eyes is that people people can only do so much to set things right. EBU is in this to make money and they're fucking great at it. nobody fixed russia by booing and banning them from the show, it was just more profitable to throw them out than keeping them in because 'communism bad', which is a trend among western countries

i've watched eurovision almost every year since i was a little kid, and it's pretty obvious that my stance on this whole thing is privileged. war has never been loud outside my door, i have a reliable supply of food and water every day, a sturdy roof over my head. i can spare myself some respite, and music is a big part of what constitutes my peace, always has been. i'm an enthusiast of foreign arts, of songs and languages that are difficult to get exposed to with how american-centric the music charts are nowadays

and so, the way i see it - and i understand if this is a line you're not comfortable drawing - the artists performing at eurovision aren't the EBU. i watch it for them. many of them who are just young singers looking for their big break, many others who are older and confident using their platform to say the uncomfortable things the organizers want to keep on the low. they're all gathered in one spot to represent a different culture, many singing in different languages, sharing traditional garb and dance. ethnic and LGBT minorities take to a huge stage that connects them to every point of the world, and i'm sorry if this all sounds quite silly in the grand scheme of things, but this is the one thing the show can do right in it's current state. europe is diverse, and sometimes it looks like even europe doesn't know that

i'm sad to see you go, but i respect that you've drawn this line, and i'm thankful to hear you've supported my art in the past. keep fighting the good fight, and may the world be a little less shitty sooner rather than later

[radkindoffeminist]

I think one of the most insidious things about the trans movement is all the lies that they spread to over-exaggerate their oppression.

When they say things about trans people being more likely to be murdered on the street when they have the lowest murder rate? Razor blade behind stickers which got completely debunked? Lifespan being like 30 years for trans people which was based on the murders of prostituted trans people in Brazil. Extremely high suicide rates, assault rates, basically rates measuring anything bad?

These lies are all too commonly repeated by trans activists in order to prove that trans people are oppressed as they claim to be. And of course, if they were true, then they would have a point to make. But so many of them are either blatantly false or manipulations/misunderstandings of statistics (such as the suicide rate which was taken from one small study asking trans people if they’d ever attempted suicide.) They’re a way for trans activists to claim that they really are The Most Oppressed People Ever(TM) despite the fact that they’re really not and just liars who are begging for attention as well as dominated by white men who think that they’re oppressed when not everything goes their way.

But they forget in the process of trying to prove to everyone that they really are The Most Oppressed People Ever(TM) that they are harming a lot of trans people too. Because so many of them genuinely believe that they will be murdered on the street because that’s what they’re told. That if they don’t get quick access to HRT then they’ll kill themselves because that’s the lie that’s been spread and repeated constantly. That once they hit 30 then they gotta start looking out for themselves because that the most common lifespan statistic shared. That they need to be really fucking careful when taking down anti-trans stickers because there might be razor blades behind it since one person has claimed it and now they all fear it (and I have literally had conversations with my mates about this story including mentioning that it was debunked but they’re still convinced that it can happen and worry about it). That when they go out they always need to be on high alert for rape, assault, murder, etc because these things are all too common for trans people. And as a woman, I can empathise with this need to be on high alert constantly and being worried about walking at night and it fucking sucks. So to force that fear -as well as so many fucking others- onto someone when they have have little to no reason to worry, just so that your group can continue to claim oppression, is fucking sickening.

And I know some idiot is going to be like ‘well they should just research it themselves and most the statistics don’t make sense anyway so they deserve it’. They never deserve it. No one deserves to live in fear like this and I honestly can’t imagine what some of them go through, especially with the average lifespan stuff. These statistics are far too commonly spread across far too many outlets for them to find the true statistics unless they actively knew what they were looking for. And even then it’s probably a source which has been deemed problematic so they will not trust that source to be reliable. These young teenagers, these people sucked up with internalised homophobia, these women with body dysphoria and internalised misogyny don’t deserve to live in fear because they identify a certain way. They don’t deserve to be bombarded by misinformation to the degree that they are and find it difficult to find the actual statistics.

[evita-shelby]

Between the Shadow and the Soul

Chapter 35

As much as Eva hates surprises, she hates pretending to be surprised even more. The twenty-nine-year-old witch had known the activist was going to corner her on the way to Tommy’s office, but since everyone is supposed to think the strange Mexican woman has no legitimate supernatural power, Eva must play along.

“Miercoles.” she mutters when Jessie Eden ‘scares’ her. Jessie finds her oddly fascinating, so much so that she’s made it her job to seek her out and see if she can annoy her into getting Thomas to rehire his workers back.

Eva wonders if Jessie Eden is queer as well. The witch remembers her strange admiration and dislike for the nude model at Gabe’s art school and her realization that she also likes women. “Every time I come to my husband’s Digbeth office I run into you. I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose, Eden.”

Eva had started to like Jessie, but her moods change faster than she can change Diane’s nappies. Just this morning she cried because Dia took her first steps, but they had been towards Tommy and not her.

“No children today, Eva, I thought you weren’t the type to hand ‘em off to nanny the second you grew bored of them.” Eden smirked as if she’d gotten something over her. Her new informant was one of Eva’s Smith relations, a Macdonald cousin from her grandmother’s side. Sara, second cousin once removed, invited to both her weddings and once or twice gotten caught talking shit behind her back. The young communist should take her words with a grain ---better yet, a jar--- of salt.

“Pretty difficult to fuck my husband if the children are there.” that had been said mostly to shut her up, but who knows, it might happen. “You should remind Sara not to run her mouth, one day she might find that my patience runs out.”

“She says you’re a bitch, that you wouldn’t lift a finger to help others ,but everyone thinks you’re a saint because you had to leave your country in a wooden crate.” Jessie keeps talking. Sara never liked her, and Eva stopped trying to like her after she said Eva kept Tommy at bay because he was poor. Never spoken to her after that.

“Sara also thinks if I hadn’t come to Small Heath Tommy would’ve fallen in love with her.” Eva snorts. Sara would have been the one asked to take care of granny after the previous nurse was caught stealing. But she lacked one thing to attract the attentions of man like Tommy: novelty.

Men were attracted to her because she was like an oddity at a curiosity shop. Sara was pretty and sharp as a knife, but she wasn’t the pretty foreign girl who dabbles in the occult. To get Tommy’s attention you had to stand out amongst the crowd.

“How did you know it was her? ”Jessie asked surprised. Sara didn’t know she was a witch, or at least not a real one.

“You need better informants, Jessie.” She mocked her. “Unbiased parties will tell you how it is, Kitty thinks of Thomas Shelby with fondness, Sara hates me for simply breathing.”

“What makes you think that’ll affect my judgement, maybe I’m capable of making my own opinions, Evie.” Her name drips with something akin to contempt.

“You think my husband will change his mind because you brought up Greta, and you think I’m incapable of caring for anyone else because Sara thinks I am a snake in the grass.” Eva points out.

“You don’t think he will?” Eden had assumed he’d cave in soon, but she doesn’t know Thomas Shelby, OBE.

“Tommy would’ve never let his workers suffer like that, but this is Thomas and this man you met would let the world burn out of stubbornness. If you hadn’t made things worse, I would’ve gotten him to compromise by new years.”

“I smell a wager, Mrs. Shelby.” Jessie smirks, if she had not been happily married, Eva would’ve so pursued her too.

----

“You know when I came here it was on a Manchester Car Factory crate. Made up a whole Pantomime about wanting a crate big enough to carry out some valuables I was selling and the company’s warehouses only had that one.” Eva sits at the edge of his desk, cross-legged with her skirt hiked a little too far up. His fingers play with the sheathed knife ---same one she almost killed him with long ago--- and she knows her husband will say yes to anything she asks. “Next thing you know, I was being helped out of it once we were out of the gulf.”

“What do you want, love?” he sighs irritated. Tommy knows her games, she knows his and everyone’s much happier to cut to the chase after five years of her seducing him to get something she really wants. Like him teaching her how to drive, his signature on an investment that made them millionaires and now the same factory Communists and disgruntled workers kept trying to burn to ash.

“The factories.” Eva keeps his gaze, she never backs down and her husband needs a reminder that he is not the only businessman in the room.

Thomas arches his brow, he looks handsome in his glasses. Eva used to associate glasses with old men leering at young ladies at balls, old maids looking for any fault they could find and ,worst of all, the word no.

For an entire year, every time she saw him wearing his reading glasses, it was always a no. Would you like to go see a picture? No, I'm busy. One week in Brighton for our real anniversary, just us and the seaside, mi amor? No, it’s me, Lizzie, Thomas is at some work thing with Tiago. Do you have any real excuse as to why you missed your own children’s birthdays? No, Eva, at least not one you consider a legitimate excuse.

If he says no, she’ll kill him with the paperweight she had made for him on their first anniversary.

“You could ask me for anything else, but you chose that?” he sits back on his chair, usually she’d climb on his lap ---or get on her knees if he let the game continue a while longer--- but this time Eva stays on the desk, standing her ground on the matter.

“What, two and a half children and suddenly you’ve forgotten your wife is also a businesswoman?” she asks, scoffing that he’d think her incapable. Its insulting, really.

“Remind me how great you are at business, love. Tell me why I should let you have them and we’ll see how it goes.” he was amused now, got that look in his eyes and that quirk in his damnable lips that told her that he’d make her work for that fucking yes.

“They'd still be yours, or Arthur’s, if you want, but I’d be the one managing them. Devlin works better with me, the workers trust me and you’ll be busy with your political career for the rest of your fucking life to even remember the mess you made here.” she leans forward, coquettishly even, as if daring him to refuse her.

“Tell me what Eden promised you and I’ll see if I can part with the mess I made.” He stands, looming over her, Eva subconsciously uncrosses her legs and he takes his place between them. They work like clockwork, like professional dancers so in tune with each other.

This was her Tommy, the man who never liked saying no to her even when she had a bad argument. He reasoned that Eva has never lead him wrong business wise, so he knows better than to take her words lightly.

“Her support. I may not like communists, but if you have her approval, you won’t need to blackmail or bribe too many people into making you a Member of Parliament.” Eva turned her face to his and she's lost in his eyes again, like she was twenty-three again and he was the young man who refused to back down no matter how politely she refused him.

“Are you decent? There's a Mrs. Ross to see you.” Lizzie’s knock breaks the spell and by the time the door opens, Mrs. Shelby is looking at a ledger over her husband’s shoulder, standing without a hair out of place.

---

“Well, you see, tomorrow would have been my son's 21st birthday. Had he lived. A- and I'm having a bit of a thing. Just sandwiches and beer and looking at old photos.” she gulps, her eyes dart around the office, avoiding the very discerning eye of the lovely witch she used to clean for. “And, as a gesture, I thought I would invite your brother, Arthur.”

Eva remains standing behind him, certain gestures, like her hand on his shoulder, confirm what he already guessed.

“A gesture of what, Mrs. Ross?” It’s a trap for Arthur, he has no doubt of that.

“Not exactly forgiveness.” Mrs. Ross is caught off guard when Eva takes the words from her mouth.

“But something like that.” she looks flustered, people often did when Eva did something that was a little strange. The timing was always a little off, the wording too exact or the unmistakable feeling that she can hear your thoughts. His wife wasn’t a mind reader, but she could ‘hear’ words and sentences before they were uttered. Something that always fascinated him about her.

Mrs. Ross used to clean for the late Mrs. Smith and she had been one of the few people to somehow grow used to Eva’s occasional strangeness, or so she had told Polly once. Can't look at a human lie-detector in the eyes, can’t she.

And also it's a way of saying thank you to the Shelby family---” her words are scripted, but she stutters and finds herself trapped in the eyes of the witch at his shoulder. “---for helping me and my children get by since the death of my Edward.”

The murder of her Edward, she means. The Italians might have scared her, but they were not half as terrifying as the witch called Mrs. Shelby. Changretta can kill the body, but Shelby can damn the soul as well if he wanted.

“How kind of you, Mrs. Ross. And you said the invitation was just for Arthur?” Eva asks, coming to sit at the edge of his desk. He can see her warm and polite smile as Mrs. Ross turns as white as bone.

“That's very kind. Well, I will let Arthur know.” he dismisses her, but she remains there. Scared like a bird caught in the deadly gaze of a cat.

“It'll be at my house at midday.” she adds, looking at him, but ever so often she can’t help, but look at Eva like she holds her life in her hands. She would be right, Eva is the one person who decides if she’s worth the trouble. “He should come at midday.”

“Your house, midday tomorrow. All right. One of us will be there.” he dismissed her as if she were unimportant.

“We’ll make sure its Arthur, like you asked.” Eva keeps her words short and curt, like she was politely asking her to leave without saying it.

---

“I thought you said the trap was for Arthur, why are you here?” Michael asks her while she sits with her knife ready in her hands.

“I saw two visions, one where they go after Arthur and one where they come after you.” She answers calmly.

“They could hurt you, you know, these people don’t care if there’s innocent bystanders, they would've killed Esme if the Lees weren't there.” the young man warns her. Reminding her that Esme was there with John. “If anything happened to you or your baby, Tommy would---"

“John’s not dead, just gone from here.” She interrupts. Eva no longer trusts him, there is a ten of swords above his head now, but this bit might be what makes him change his mind. “He survived his injuries and we hired Gold just as he and Esme asked. You weren’t supposed to go with him that morning, kid, I’m sorry.”

“Does my mum know?” he is not angry at being lied to, but he will be when he realizes that Polly’s supposed betrayal isn’t real. Especially because he will be the one caught red handed.

“Yes, couldn’t have made it happen without her.” Her ears perk up like a hound. She moves quickly to hand him his gun and close his bag. “They’re here.”

------

Notes:

Miércoles, Wednesday in Spanish and often used to substitute mierda/shit when children are present. Eva is used to moderating her swearing to the point it became a habit.

Peaky Blinders version of Jessie Eden has queer vibes written all over her, like maybe bi or pan. Anyone else get that vibe from her?

---

Taglist(I'll assume anyone who rbs wants to be in it, really likes aren't enough to sustain me anymore): @joossieisdabomb @johnathancanines

[cardentist]

the insistence that trans men face a lesser kind of oppression than trans women is no different from the insistence that bisexuality is a watered down form of gayness

all of these groups can have different relationships with their oppression thanks to how they’re presented and perceived by society (invisibility in media vs overt demonization in media for instance) but these differences being boiled down to one group being distinctly More Important or More Authentically Oppressed than the other is legitimately harmful.

on the surface both of these ideas seem to make a sort of logical sense. trans men are trans people But Men, and we all know how men are treated by society. bi people are like gay people except they also like people of a different gender, and straight people like it when you do that. add on the relative invisibility and there isn’t much in the mainstream to challenge those ideas. 

the truth of the matter is that invisibility affects more than just mainstream media. this idea that bi people or trans men have lesser experiences with oppression are gut instinct because their voices, their experiences, have a history of under-representation. people don’t Hear the experiences that the people in these groups face and then create conditions within queer (and activist) spaces that treat those people like their voices matter less because they’re privileged. this creates a cycle where these groups are devalued and talked over because these groups are Already devalued and talked over.

this all pares horribly with the atmosphere in discourse (and particularly exclusionist) spaces where identities are used as social capital that is enforced by tearing down whoever it is you think is encroaching on your space. it’s not uncommon to see posts talking about the experiences of one identity that goes out of their way to exclude whatever’s being spoken of from another identity that they see as lesser, deliberately putting another identity down and crushing their voices in the conversation to lift themselves up. (the sheer amount of times I’ve seen a post start with “trans men Never-” while describing something I experience in my daily life is exhausting)

the most insidious thing about this is the fact that when you create an environment where oppression is social capital then someone trying to assert their lived experiences with their oppression when you view them as under you is considered overtly aggressive and is often framed as bigotry within itself, because theoretically if they’re equal to you then your social capital has been lowered. you see this Constantly within ace discourse, with people doing things like calling asexuality Inherently homophobic because they didn’t want to acknowledge another marginalized group’s oppression.

this can be particularly dangerous when it leaks into broader and more serious subject matter and colors how people look at and talk about a marginalized identity’s experiences. one of the bigger arguments in these spaces was that trans men are literally incapable of experiencing misogyny and this notion was enforced by people directly discrediting trans men talking about their experiences (telling people that they’re lying about their experiences, that their experiences didn’t happen in the way or for the reason that they said they did, and sometimes intentionally misgendering the person to discredit it). I had personal experience with that which was, not great I gotta say.

this kind of target vitriol isn’t unique to any of the mentioned groups, in fact it’s something that goes both ways. there are trans men who are absolutely Horrible to trans women. but well meaning people in activist spaces are particularly skittish to stand up for trans men in this situation because they’re Aware that trans women are particularly marginalized (which they are) while also being affected by the lack of visibility for trans men. I’ve seen people who engage with Nasty discourse defending asexuality, nonbinary people, transness in general, bi/pan people, etc who outright Refused to get involved in when it was trans men on the line because it wasn’t Worth it to them. that’s definitely anecdotal evidence on my part but it’s emblematic of a bigger issue.

moreover, there’s a common trend in and around queer spaces where people identify vulnerable groups based on how established they are and go out of their way to hurt those on the outskirts because they know that it’ll be tolerated. from asexuals to nonbinary people to mogai to neogenders to pan people to intersex people to polygamous people to bi people and beyond. what you’ll see a lot of is transphobic cis women extend performative activism towards trans women while being overtly transphobic towards trans men and justifying it with the fact that trans men are Men and therefore they’re punching up.

this wasn’t really made with one solid thesis in mind and I honestly could keep rambling until the sun died out, but to cap things off I want to remind people of something that I still think about to this day.

quite a few years ago trans men were looking for a term that they could use to describe their specific experiences with the intersection of transphobia and misogyny, particularly when trans men were being pushed out of spaces talking About that intersection. obviously “transmisogyny” was taken, so someone came up with the idea of taking that word as the root and changing it to be clearly and obviously about trans men. which is how the word “transmisandry” came about.

if you’ve lived through gamergate you probably just flinched reading that if it was your first time, which is fair. the point of the term was to make its meaning as immediately identifiable as possible. if you know what transmisogyny means and you know what misandry means then it’s not too difficult to put together what transmisandry is supposed to mean if you’re seeing it for the first time. that said, it (perhaps predictably) sparked quite a bit of controversy. but the criticism it got? was that trans men didn’t Need a term to describe their own experiences. trans men aren’t oppressed for being men, “transphobia” should cover all of their experiences because they don’t Have unique experiences, trans men don’t Deserve a term to describe their own experiences. a lot of this was attributed to ignorance after people started pointing out how fucked up that reaction was, how it was kneejerk, but I don’t think that’s an excuse anymore. I don’t think it should Ever be an excuse.

nowadays people tend to use “transandrophobia,” not because the meaning is any different, not because it’s a functionally better term, but because people weren’t Willing to overlook their kneejerk reaction to Not take a term away from another marginalized group because their ability to talk about their own lived experiences in their own spaces mattered Less than momentary discomfort.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Indruck 22 for the meet uglies?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship

“...such a waste of money. I mean, why spend all that to get something tacky on your skin?”

Indrid rolls his eyes at Barclay from across the counter of the Amnesty Lodge coffee shop, the cooks arms and hands sporting a plethora of tattoos rivaled only by Indrid’s collection.

“I dunno, l like the one I got.” The other man--who seems to be on the worst first date of his life--shrugs.

“You honestly think you and Juno couldn’t have spent that money on something else in college?”

“I mean maybe but, uh, we were earnin our own cash, figured we got to decide what to spend it on.”

“Hmmmm” the first guy sips his coffee, “sounds like a typical excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit a mistake.”

“C’mon, that ain’t fair-”

“Ugh, stop saying ain’t! I can’t take someone who talks like that to meet my family.” Before the target of his disdain can respond, he snaps his fingers, “hey, buddy, can I get a refill or what?”

“The station for black coffee refills is right there, sir.” Barclay indicates the very obvious corner of dispensers, his voice the kind of calm that Indrid knows means he’s memorizing this guys face to warn other staff about.

They earn a brief reprieve while The Asshole leaves the table. When he returns, he’s shaking his head.

“God, have you looked at the photos they’ve got up? Who the fuck wants to look at bones?”

Indrid quickly glances at his friend to be sure he’s permitted to start a fight. Barclay nods.

“Quite a lot of people.” Indrid spins on his stool. “I’ve sold a number of them just from the display here. So perhaps you could keep your rude, unclultured, close-minded, obnoxious mouth shut.”

The man balks, looks to his companion for help. He offers none, mouth trying to form words and only coming out with halves of ones (except for the “fucks” which are plentiful).

“Oh my fucking god, you agree with him! That’s it, I’m out.” The Asshole pushes back from the table and storms out. The remaining man leaps up, panicked.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay man, shitty first dates happen to all of us.” Barclay offers from beside the bakery case.

“I mean yeah, they do, but that wasn’t one of ‘em. That was my boyfriend of three fuckin years.” He dashes out of the shop, sparing a final glare at Indrid as he does.

Indrid trades a sheepish look with his friend, “Oops.”

-------------------------------------------------

“I’m glad you finally get to meet Duck!” Aubrey grins over her shoulder as she and Indrid wind down the hall at the office Kepler magazine.

Founded by childhood friends, Kepler worked a combination of print and video content that saw its subscribers and revenue climb while other publications struggled to stay afloat. Aubrey was head of the video team, though she contributed content to the magazine in the form of interviews about environmental activists of color and sustainable gift guides.

Kepler has three sections: travel, science, and environmental writing. Indrid now has the honor of being one of their primary photographers. He started two weeks ago and is thoroughly enjoying his work and the company of the other staff. The only person he’s yet to meet is Duck Newton, one of the founders and main reporters, as he was off on an assignment.

Aubrey knocks, gets a friendly “come in” and ushers Indrid into the office.

Looking at him from behind the desk is The Asshole’s Boyfriend, whose face goes from open and friendly to confused, then to perturbed.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, fuck, n-ye.” Duck sighs, “remember how I told you Alex and I split after a shitty date in a coffee shop?” He points at Indrid, “this was the fella who, uh, expedited the process.”

“Ohhhh.” Aubrey frowns, then shrugs with a smile, “whelp, he’s our new photographer. We’ll see you around.” She hurries them outside once more, shutting the doors. As they head back the way they came, she whispers, “his ex was a huge fucking dick, so if word gets out everyone is gonna think you’re a fucking hero.”

“He didn’t seem to see it that way.”

“It was only a few weeks ago, so it’s still pretty fresh. He’ll heal from it okay, Duck’s a tough cookie. And I’m sure you guys’ll get along eventually.”

---------------------------------------

“Juno, please, you gotta come with me.”

“I would bud, except it’s April and I’s fifth wedding anniversary that weekend. And no, we already have plans, so we can’t just take over this assignment as part of the celebration.”

“Fuck” Duck leans back in his chair.

“...You really asked everyone?”

“Ye-no, fuck-”

“Duck.”

“I ain’t asked Indrid yet.”

“There it is.” Juno smirks, “you gotta ask; besides, we were gonna have him do illustrations for the feature, but photos would be even better. And we both know it ain’t his fault y’all broke up.”

Duck nods, promises to ask Indrid after lunch. He finds the photographer flipping through his files from his shoot for next issues cover. His silver hair is pulled back, red glasses sitting on the desk beside him so he can gauge color correctly.

Duck kind of wants to pull the silver locks just to see what happens. It’s not his fault Indrid looks like his Sophomore roommate who he had a raging crush on, only with more tattoos and a much more captivating face. Pity he helped fuck up Duck’s last chance at a stable relationship.

“Hey, Indrid, you got a minute?”

The photographer cocks his head.

“I, uh, so we got a feature on this whole chunk of places touting themselves as ‘sustainable romantic getaways. I booked a bunch of places, but a lot of ‘em will turn me away if I turn up solo. And the person I was supposed to go with ain’t an option any more. Neither is anyone else. You get my drift?”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “you realize this is a terrible idea, yes?”

“Hey, we been workin together just fine. Ain’t we? Wait, fuck, I ain’t been treatin you bad even when I’m tryin to be professional, am I?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly polite. But there’s a world of difference between being cordial in an office and going on what’s functionally a vacation together.”

Duck crosses his arms, “I ain’t about to lose eight hundred bucks in deposits.”

Indrid blinks, then chuckles, “Fair. What day do we leave?”

-------------------------------------------------

The temperature rises and the air dries as they speed south on Five. Indrid fiddles with games on his phone as cover for the list of “will this be a disaster or not” he’s mentally constructing. So far the signs are positive; Duck isn’t very chatty, but neither is Indrid. They have similar tastes in music, which makes much more sense when Duck explains he was a burn-out in high school. He also isn’t agitated by Indrid stimming, which makes it easier for the photographer to relax and enjoy the drive.

But they haven’t spoken about the elephant in the car, and Indrid resolves not to be the first to do so. No point in poking the sore spot if he doesn’t have to.

They stop at a Sinclair for gas. Duck reaches into his glovebox for something as Indrid climbs out, comes away with a photo instead. It’s one of those ones from a photobooth, faded but unmistakably him and his ex. His face falls for a second and Indrid scurries into the Dairy Queen attached to the convenience store.

As he waits in line, he turns one fact over in his mind like a picture he’s trying to make sense of; it would be easier to let their awkward first meeting go if he did not genuinely like the other man. He’s charming, in a quiet way, and very friendly. He’s built like the guys Indrid always got useless crushes on in college, usually third tier frat boys or--if he was lucky--a bear a few years older than him who liked his men on the odd side.

He doesn’t like seeing Duck sad. The sadness isn’t something he can fix. The stalemate between these two facts annoy the living hell out of him.

He’s next in line, glances up to confirm what he wants, and gets an idea. Last week, he overheard Duck talking with Aubrey about roadtrip snacks of their youth.

“One chocolate dipped cone, on me.” He holds the treat out to the other man.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. These are my favorite from when I was a kid.” Duck’s smile returns.

“I remembered. Or, ah, that is, I remembered you saying that.”

The smile changes, “you didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to. Shall we?”

“Yep. Uh, you gonna be able to drive and eat that at the same time?”

“Do not doubt my ability to consume ice cream under difficult circumstances, Duck Newton.”

They make it to their first stop unscathed. It’s what Duck refers to as, “eco-bespoke,” a fancy spa and hotel built in a former school, the kind that was made in an era of beautiful instead of grim educational architecture.

“Goats!” Indrid claps his hands, delighted, at the two animals stabled near the main building. One of it’s supposed sustainable elements is the small farm that helps feed the on-site restaurant. Duck smirks and Indrid suddenly feels the gulf in their upbringings, “Ah, I suppose they’re not exciting to someone who grew up in a rural town.”

“Nah, but they’re damn cute.” Duck checks the tag on their room keys, “okay, we’re in the green building, room 2B.”

Indrid snaps some photos as they cross the grounds, more to remind himself of things he wants to come back to later than anything else. He’s busy studying a strange mark on the wall by their door when Duck says, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Why--oh” he stares at the single bed, “in retrospect, we should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah.” Duck drops his bag near the closet, slides the door to look for spare linens. Indrid summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so bolsters it with nonchalance.

“It’s a king, we could easily share.”

“You’d, uh, you’d be okay with that?”

“It is only narrow definitions of masculinity that mean something like sharing a bed is inherently sexual.”

He’s not entirely sure that made sense, but Duck nods, “You want the right side or left?”

“Right, please.”

“Great. And, uh, Indrid? Thanks for rollin with all this. I, uh, I know it’s fuckin weird but this is a huge feature for the magazine and we woulda been fucked if we had to pull it.”

Indrid gingerly sits on his side of the bed, “You’re welcome. And I don;t know about you, but” he smiles, catches Duck watching him intently in the mirror, “I’m enjoying myself so far.”

------------------------------------------------------

“Why has an activity that renders one incapable of using their thighs been deemed ‘romantic?” Indrid mumbles, face-down on the bed to offer his burning legs relief.

“Fuck if I know.” Duck groans as he sits next to him, “Kinda fun, but if I was doin this to get you in bed, I’d be fucked.”

“I am in bed” Indrid teases.

“And if I tried to put the moves of you you’d toss me outta it. Assumin I could even move myself that close.” Duck nudges him, then clears his throat, “uh, I mean, not like we’d be doin that-”

“Nono, point taken.” Indrid rolls over. The horseback ride was one of the “couples exclusives;” a trot out to a beautiful oasis for a gourmet picnic. Indrid got some excellent shots, including one of Duck with honeycomb dripping down his chin, which he will not be offering up to editors but may keep for himself. For it’s beautiful composition, of course.

Mercifully, their next stop is the pool. Indrid settles himself in the hot tub while Duck types some notes on his phone. Then his friend doffs his bathrobe and Indrid may as well be in a dream. In the steaming, echoing paradise of multi-colored tile and ecstatic shouts, Duck stands like one of the angelic fountains at its heart has come to life.

“You okay there, ‘Drid?”

“Yes.” He hopes his lack of glasses means Duck will mistake his blatant staring for trying to get his vision in focus.

“Then scoot your cu--uh, your butt over so I can sit down.”

Indrid gladly moves aside, finds he’s so comfortable with Duck pressed against him that he begins nodding off in the warm lull of the water. When the other man nudges him, saying it’s time to go, he finds a strong arm draped over his shoulder and Duck’s smile the most relaxed it’s been all trip.

Their last task at this location is to locate the speakeasy somewhere on the premises and order the “lovers delight” (only available to couples). To do so, they follow clues purple light bulbs, doors that lead to tiny, art-filled rooms, secret staircases, and a false supply closet to a dark wooded, dimly lit, incredibly pleasant bar looking out over the property. The drink turns out to be a massive goblet (more a bowl that someone stuck on a stem) of ginger syrup, prickly pear juice, and silver tequila.

It also turns out to be incredibly strong. So much so that when they get back to the room, Indrid loses his balance getting his shoes off, which makes Duck laugh, which results in both of them flopping onto the bed.

“S’fun. You’re, you’re real good at the clues. Should, should go to an escape room when we get home.”

“Wasn’t, hic, that hard. They, they want, hic, want you to find it.”

“Take the compliment, goofus” Duck pushes his shoulder.

“You’re, hic, the goofus.”

“Nuh uh.” Duck sticks his tongue out. Indrid does the same, then licks his cheek just to hear him laugh.

Duck rolls onto his back, giggles dying down to a contemplative sigh, “He woulda hated this.”

“Your ex?” Indrid crawls to stay close to him.

“Yeah. Everythin I like, or, or thought was fun, he thought it was a waste of time or just plain worthless. He, he wasn’t like that at the start. Dunno what changed. Probably me. Probably got borin. Got worse.”

Indrid is not so drunk that he believes he can fix this. But he’s just drunk enough to stroke Duck’s cheek and murmur, “No. Nono, hic, you’re th’best.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that, but he must have, because his phone is beeping at them to get up and face the day. They do so with to-go coffees in one hand and their bags in the other, neither speaking of the night before until Indrid has turned the car into deeper desert.

“Sorry for gettin on a thing about Alex last night.”

“It was a three year relationship; goodness knows you’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

“Even relief?”

Indrid glances at him, “Of course.”

His friend leans back in his seat, sipping from his travel mug, “That’s half the reason I been in such a funk. I feel like I oughta be sad, then I feel guilty for the fact I’m relieved instead. But if I really was that unhappy in it, why did I hang around so long? Maybe that was the best I deserved, y’know?”

“I know the feeling, yes, but I can’t say I agree with your statement. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are and adores it, not someone who loved what you once were and became bitter when you grew.”

Duck looks at the console between them, at Indrid’s chipped black nails and the hand he hopes isn’t shaking. He squeezes it a moment longer than necessary, “Thanks, ‘Drid. It’s nice to hear that from someone who’s still gettin to know me. Juno and them, they’re my friends, I know they’re in my corner but, uh, sometimes I worry that anyone new is gonna find me dull or somethin like that.”

“I’m sure some people would, just as some take one look at me and decide I’m a weirdo who they don’t want to deal with. But I can say with certainty that I don’t find you that way.”

Duck grins all the way to their destination. It’s a quirky trailer park full of amenities and built mostly from salvaged materials, doing it’s best to run off the grid. It also gives each trailer a theme, and Indrid flaps his hands when he sees they’ve been booked in the “The Cramps” themed one.

“Hell yeah.” Duck mirrors his excitement as they open the door. Their haven from the desert sun is full of kitschy horror artifacts and a much smaller bed than the previous spot. There’s no debate this time; Indrid settles on the right, Duck on the left, and they settle in for a nap before venturing out to work.

They take in the bar, the arcade, the mini-golf course, and the “couples supply room” (“damn, didn’t know they made eggnog scented massage oil” “ooh, I like how that smells”), but Duck turns out to be most excited to rent a stargazing kit and guide Indrid out into the dark desert. They’re on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and munching chocolate covered fruit, when he discovers the source of his glee.

“There!” Duck points to a crackling streak of silver.

“A meteor” Indrid wiggles happily as a second one speeds through his view.

“It’s the Perseids, and this is a damn good place to watch ‘em. Look, there’s another one.” He’s breathless each time and Indrid’s heart threatens to beat hard enough to crack the earth at the sound.

“Did you ever wish on stars when you were little?”

“Yep. Never asked for much worth notin, though I’m pretty sure I wished once to just wake up and be a boy. Or, uh, guess for everyone to see me as one. What about you?”

“I wished...I wished for someone to do things like this with, some who’d kiss me and tell me that they didn’t need to wish because what they wanted was right here.. I love the world, I want to see so much of it, that’s half the reason I chose my profession.. But when I was young I thought I’d be with someone when I did. I thought it was easy to find that kind of love. To be worthy of it.”

“Hey now” Duck rolls onto his side. He’s backlit by the moon, meteors zipping behind him as if they, just like Indrid, are pulled to him, “what happened to all the stuff you said in the car about deservin someone who adores you?”

“It’s easy to apply such things to you, harder to believe them about myself.”

“How come?”

“Because you are everything a sensible person could want in a man and I am not.”

“That’s where you’re wrong” He sets a hand next to Indrid’s shoulder, “Can think of at least one sensible fella who wants to get to know you a whole hell of a lot.”

“He’ll get to know me plenty, we’re co-workers.”

“There are different kinds of gettin to know someone.” Duck dips down, brushes their noses together, “for instance, the last few days I’ve gotten to know you’re a damn good travel companion and that Ned was smart to hire you. But I’ve also gotten to know there’s some things about you I really wanna know.”

“Such as?” Indrid’s fingers find Duck’s sides.

“Such as whether you wanna go on a date with me when we get back. No assignment, just the two of us gettin some time together.”

“I want nothing more.” He leans up to kiss him, feels him shudder happily when their lips meet. Indrid wonders how long it’s been since someone kissed Duck like they meant it, and resolves to make up any deficits with an enthusiasm that would put horny eighteen year olds to shame.

Indrid nips Ducks ear, “you know, were it not for the threat of mosquitos and scorpions, I’d suggest we make good use of the non-food items in that basket.”

Ducks grin lights Indrid up like a comet, “Then howsabout we go test just how conducive our trailer is to romance?”

Indrid kisses him adoringly, “Lead on, sweetheart; I’ll follow you anywhere.”

[sideblogformindtrash]

Prompt: Farlan just got bois and call Oferu to help him, as he have no idea what to do so things won't end like with Haru

that’s just reality tho

CW: dehumanization; pet whump; discussion of human trafficking, trauma, past abuse, therapy;

 …Granted, he was a bit nervous when he let Orfeu inside his new apartment. He wasn’t sure how the man would react. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if Orfeu just attacked him on the spot.

…Instead, he turned, slowly, very slowly, away from the pets and stared at Farlan, pushing him outside of the apartment again and closing the door.

“…I thought you said you wanted to be better. Be different”

“I do” he answered “I… I didn’t get them for… You know”

“…So you could hurt them” Orfeu whispered, nearly hissing “Why the fuck them?”

“I want to help them” He said, nearly blushing “I want… I want to help them this time”

And Orfeu just… Sank his face into his own hands with an angry annoyed sound.

“Farlan when you said you did something by impulse… I was not expecting that” He put his hands down, forming a fist “Look I… I want you to do better. I do. I’m happy you doing therapy and honestly? Yeah you are better. But this? You are gambling with other people’s lives”

“…If I hadn’t gotten them…” He leans against the wall, holding his arm.

“…Maybe they would be worse. Likely, actually” And Orfeu sighed, letting a bit of his anger dissipate… And turn into just… exhaustion. He looked more and more tired these days “…But how can I know this will be different, really? What you did to Haru-“

“I don’t want to be that person anymore” He whispered back. I don’t want to be like my father. I don’t want to be like those people. I don’t want to be what they want me to be “…That’s why I called you. I know I’m a fuck up. And I need your help”

They stared at each other, Orfeu leaning against the other corridor wall. One of his neighbors appeared, saying a weak ‘hi’ for Farlan and staring Orfeu up and down a bit nervously. They just waited in awkward silence till the person was gone.

“…Will you help me?” Falran said, looking at his feet. Well… Honestly he had all the reasons to not want to get involved in this one. He usually didn’t, anyway.

“…It’s difficult” Orfeu sighed “…Farlan it’s not… It’s not all nice and lovely and like you give them hugs and they are suddenly okay. It… It looks like that sometimes but it’s a façade. Most of the time they’ll annoy the living shit out of you. They’ll intentionally do that and see what grinds your gears. They’ll beg you to hurt them even though they don’t fucking want that to happen. They’ll cry for no reason and for weird fucking reasons, or scream and cry and just, overall, be a fucking mess, and you need to be calm, and help them through all of it”

“I know…”

“Do you? Do you really?” Orfeu sighs, controlling himself not to scream, staring at the ceiling. The automatic lights went off, leaving them in half-darkness.

“…Well they are already here aren’t they”

Orfeu quietly nodded, then seemed to remember something.

“Also… Is that the pet that fucker that had Blue got after him? And… And that other one. It’s… Is that one that wanted to be like Blue? Are you fucking serious? Don’t tell me you liking that fuckers content I Swear I’ll-“

“No. No I’m not” He sighed “…He is far too cruel. Even I can admit that”

And Orfeu crossed his arms, looking away.

“…Then why?”

“I did watch his videos…” Farlan shifted his weight, a bit nervous “I… I couldn’t really see it when I was hurting Haru… But I fucking hated when father did it to him… And watching his videos was… Was really fucking hard too. Because yeah it felt like something wrong and disgusting. I don’t know why I… I never realized it when it was me. It always felt different… But it isn’t, is it?”

“No… I guess it’s because it’s easier not to think about it” Orfeu suggested. He thought he was saying that as scolding but… He seemed just… Understanding, almost “Look I, I get it. It’s hard to admit you fucked up. It is. I’m glad you can do that, but… caring for them Is a whole new story”

“How… How do you do it?” Farlan looked, honestly defeated. He wanted to do this right. He really did. But he was nervous, this was making him more nervous… “You are angry too. I know you are. How do you don’t…. You know”

“…I see myself” Orfeu shrugged, his face seeming to fall, distant green eyes “…Just… It’s me, you know? Right there, shivering and scared, and lost… And you have no idea how vulnerable admitting this makes me feel. I could hurt them to like… set us apart. Pretend there is a distance or whatever. But that would not be true. Why would I hurt them when I just… I just wanted someone to be there for me? To fucking listen?”

“That’s what you are doing? Just… Just treating them like you wish you had been?”

…Farlan frowned. That… Wasn’t such a bad advice.

“…Yes. That’s… That’s basic fucking kindness…?  Don’t take that too literally though. We don’t always want the best for ourselves” he pulled down at his sleeves. Long, oversized hoodie, over a way too small skirt.

“So… Will you help me?”

Orfeu stared at him angrily for a… For a while.

“Yes. But you will do the work. I’ll help you but it’s your fucking job now and you better do it right or I swear I’ll rip your arm off and shove it up your ass” Farlan smile, despite the threat. He didn’t think Orfeu was exaggerating on it. His tone changed a bit as he continued “Your soul changed a lot lately, you know?”

“…Hm?” He lifted his eyebrow, remembering the acid-trip bullshit stuff Orfeu sometimes spilled. He was still a weirdo after all.

“It changed. It’s… A way more pleasant shape. But… Don’t get that get to your head.”

“…I don’t even know what that means”

“Yeah it’s… It’s different. I hope that means you are better” Orfeu sighed, tumbling his fingers over his arms, those long dark nails always impeccable “…It’s been one year right? You doing therapy and shit… You really think you can do this? You want to?”

“Yes. I told you so”

“One more thing” He says, stepping closer “…You want to help them – actually fucking help them – or you just want to be a good ‘pet owner’ that doesn’t abuse his pets or whatever bullshit the activists say…”

Farlan frowned a little bit. He hadn’t really… Considered there was much of a difference.

“I… I want to help them”

“…Then don’t forget they are people” Orfeu said, his tone dropping a bit, menacingly “…They are people. Nothing they ever did or had done to them changes that”

…Farlan quietly nodded. He… hoped this wasn’t more that he could handle.

Suddenly, Orfeu pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket…. And a pen out of Farlan’s pocket.

“Hey, what-“ Orfeu shoved the paper back at him. It had some numbers scribbled on.

“…I’ll be taking Haru to a speech therapist. You’ll pay for it” He stared Farlan up and down. He wasn’t going to refuse. Specially not now after he had asked Orfeu a favor, too, and a massive one at that. Still Orfeu was on the defensive “…You don’t just get a fresh start, alright? You have a rotten past to take care of too”

“…Fair”

Farlan whispered, pocketing the number and biting on his lips, thinking of the little songbird pet – hell, the boy – he had worked so hard to shut up. That was still quiet, nearly a year later. How fucking cruel had that been?

After a moment of silence Orfeu offered him a tiny, tiny smile, and looked away. He found that to be comforting.

[bottlecapbaby]

I was going through @fallout-drabbles-n-sfuff and they did these posts which I loved, about what your fallout romance says about you, and I thought it was so cool I wanted to do a version of my own! So here!

Note: keep in mind that this is just a joke, I’m not actually accusing anyone of anything. This says more about me than it does any of you lol

What your companion romance says about you

Cait: You want a fixer-upper. Being with Cait is hard fuckin’ work, but that’s what makes it satisfying, and that’s what you want. And you like accents.

Curie: you want a straight up angelic cutie. You want very simple things, someone who is sweet and kind and pretty and makes it so you don’t have to be worrying about everything, because she will help take care of you. And you like accents. Alternate: you want to be the teacher. You like that she’s new to her body and the human experience, you want to teach her.

Danse: I don’t get you. You like him because he’s a handsome guy, he’s authoritative, but it’s all that military edge that makes him easy to fluster at times, and you want a big strong man who will pin you down, but you wanna have power over him too

Deacon: you love that he’s so fucking damaged. He’s probably the toughest nut to crack out of everyone, because he’s been hurt before and he’s determined not to let anyone else get hurt by being close, but you want to be the exception. You’re a nutcracker.

Hancock: You like him because it’s sooooo easy to comfort him, and it isn’t a full time job. He’s fun, he’s casual, but he has just enough emotional baggage to make it feel like a commitment and a serious relationship. And maybe, just maybe? You like that you know he would smoke weed with you.

Gage: You want a rough and tough, dirty, terrible man because his hard exterior gives him the greatest potential for developing a gooey center for you and only you. You want a man who will be so utterly in love and changed by your love he would do anything. You wanna fight and make up. And yeah, maybe you wanna get fucked rough, but you know what? You also want it to fucking mean something every goddamn time. And you like accents.

MacCready: You want a squirrely little man who you can make squirm any time of the day or night. You wanna tie him up and make him beg, maybe. And you know that because he has a son and a dead wife that he has the capability for emotional connection and that he understands loss, and that’s what you need.

Nick Valentine: You want an old fashioned emotionally raw lover boy. He wants to do everything right with you, but oh, what’s this? He is so troubled by his identity issues, but you love him anyways and you want to make it all better and also beat up the people who make his life difficult because you know he’s not a violent guy like that.

Old Longfellow: You want a daaaaddddyyyyyy. You want a gruff older man who is difficult to impress because that means once he does show some pride and affection, it feels 10000% more meaningful. And you like that he’s all lonely, you wanna shove your way into that cocoon. You probably have had a crush on a teacher.

Piper: You want someone who is a spitfire but not like in a violent and troubling way, just in like a fun quirky way that sometimes gets you into trouble with the law but it never results in any actual jail time. You’re probably some kind of activist.

Preston: you just want someone who will treat you right. Is that so much to ask? He’s nice, he’s handsome, he does charity work, your mother would love him.

X6-88: You want to be a fucking detective AND a teacher. You like that he’s emotionally uninvolved because you wanna teach him how to be emotional. You wanna find out what he’s all about.

Mason: You? You’re tired. Tired of men who put all these false pretenses on, men who think they’re all that, all clean and modern. You want a dirty, wild man who isn’t interested in hookups, he’s interested in mating. You want, more than anything else, a man who will put in some fucking effort because you’re worth it. You want a fucking caveman who will hunt and kill for you and chase you to the ends of the earth because it HAS to be you, no one else will satisfy him. A dude who will hold you down in his lap, on his throne, and absolutely fingerblast you into oblivion. You probably wanted to fuck Aragorn in lord of the rings cause you want that dirty wild man fucking.