I keep thinking about this discussion I was watching the other day where two people were talking about tattoos and how people say younger people shouldn't be allowed to get tattoos because "they might regret them later."
One of the people spoke up and said something along the lines of that if she got a tattoo when they were younger and regretted it later, they didn't think that meant they shouldn't have been allowed to get the tattoo.
Because her younger self deserved the right to get that tattoo and enjoy it, even if they didn't like it 100 evolutions of character later. Their younger self still deserved the right to make that choice, just like her [insert age] self deserves the right to get tattoos their 90 year old self would despise. It would be a disrespect to claim otherwise.
Your younger self deserved the right to your body just as much as you do now, even if you don't like or agree with what they did with it.
What a beautiful mentality that applies to so many things.
13K notes
·
View notes
actually. that post about how its important to have weird kinky queer friends. i think the same is true of really every type of ostracized person but in particular i wanna point it out wrt mentally ill people.
if you watch a movie villainizing DID or schizophrenia or something, and you think, "hey, this seems sort of like its based on what my friend has and theyre just a chill person, why are they making my friends condition seem threatening?" thats good.
if you see someone use narcissist as a synonym for abuser and you think, "what, no, im friends with someone who has NPD and i know theyre a kind person, this isnt true at all," thats good.
if you hear politicians try to frame addicts as violent criminals who should be locked up and you think "no, my buddy sam is just sick, their withdrawals are really painful and they dont have a good support system, they shouldnt be locked up for that," thats good.
being able to counter ableist rhetoric with "i know from experience thats not how these people are" is a good thing. like yeah obviously dont make friends with mentally ill people just for brownie points but also try to make the conscious effort to be open to friendship with people who have stigmatized mental health issues. and maybe even more importantly, be someone who makes it clear to others that youre safe to be open about these things with, because chances are youre ALREADY friends with mentally ill people even if you dont realize it, because a lot of us with more demonized conditions try to hide those conditions out of fear, and it helps a lot to know our friends are allies - and then we might feel safe discussing our experiences, IF we want to, and in turn that can help you better understand the realities and diversities of our situations and be less susceptible to ableist rhetoric.
30K notes
·
View notes
"simon riley!"
your voice calling out to simon was what snapped him out of his relaxed state in the living room.
simon loved it when you call his name. not ghost. not lieutenant riley. just simon riley, or simon or si. your sweet voice calling his name sounded like a wave of melody in his ears.
but just now when you called his name loudly and it echoed in his flat, he felt the alarm bells ringing in his head.
danger.
he tried to act nonchalant when you stepped in front of him with your arms on your hips. your face was cool but simon could feel the anger behind your eyes.
"yes, love? wha' is it?"
"did you eat my pudding?" you glared at him, crossing your arms.
simon internally winced at that. yes, yes he absolutely did. but simon can't just admit it or else he would be the receiving end of your fury (he already did). he had to protect his pride as your loving and considerate boyfriend no matter what.
"no."
you looked at him, unimpressed. there were no words exchanged but the moment simon denied it, his fate was already sealed. your stare said it all.
you're sleeping on the sofa tonight.
and when you walked away, simon's brain frantically tried to come up with excuses and apologies.
goodluck, simon. you needed it.
–
happy 300 i love you guys (^_^)♡
— masterlist.
4K notes
·
View notes
ghost doesn't think he hears you correctly, not at first. there's a ringing that's still in his ears from the bullet he nearly ate earlier. (cw: dubcon, 18+)
"wot?"
"can you please please please--pretend to be my boyfriend--just for one minute--!"
"heyyy, sunshine," a nasty little voice sings. you spin around, cowering by the bar, just as someone a little too drunk and a little too big comes into your space. you scoot away from him, but he's coming closer, leaning over you, and ghost tilts his head to the side as he watches the way you flinch at the stink of his breath.
ghost fits into the space at your back quite easily. your back arches a little as his big hand finds the bend of your waist, and you squeak a little when he forces you back, pressing your ass against his pelvis as he tucks you into his shadow.
"who's this fuckin' nitwit?" ghost mutters, clicking his tongue under his mask. you swallow, blinking up at the man, shrugging as you try and press yourself a little closer against his heat.
"i-i dunno," you whisper, and it's shaky, afraid. "h-he won't stop...following me."
"tha' right?" ghost hums, and you're so afraid of the man in front of you that you don't really register the way ghost's big hand is slipping lower, over the curve of your denim jeans and squeezing the fat of your ass that fills the palm of his hand all too nicely. "ya botherin' 'er?"
the man swallows a little, hiccuping. he stands up straighter, a little more sober, and he just shrugs as he takes another swig of his beer.
"just...she's so pretty, ya know--agh!"
ghost reaches over and grips him by the fat of his neck. he squeezes hard, drawing him closer, would be spitting in his face if he wasn't wearing the balaclava over his head.
"'f i see ya around 'er again, i'll paint the fuckin' walls with y'r teeth, mate, yeah? now get outta my fuckin' sight before i do it just for fun."
when ghost lets him go, he struggles to breathe, holding onto the bar and coughing as he scrambles to put distance between you. you shake a little, turning towards the bar, picking up what you assume is his drink and sipping it slowly to try and calm the nerves. you close your eyes gently, shaking your head.
"thank you," you say softly. "i-i couldn't shake him off, he was following me everywhere, i..." you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling up at him. "that was really nice of you. i'm...sorry if i caused you any trouble."
ghost tilts his head to the side, fitting himself back behind you. he reaches over, putting both arms on either side of you and leaning over one shoulder, breathing hot against your neck.
"wot you mean?" he murmurs, and you blink, not understanding.
"for pretending to..." you laugh a little, looking into his eyes. "just...it was nice of you to do that. to pretend like that, i--"
"dunno wot y'r talkin' about," ghost chuckles, and you seize when he reaches down between you, cupping you between the legs as he palms at your pussy over your jeans. you keen a little, leaning into his touch, nasty brute pressing two fingers against where you're most sensitive and forcing your ass back against him, where he's hard, chubbed up since he first saw you, leaking into his cargos.
"i-i--" your eyes are wide, but you don't pull away, don't push him back--why am i not running? why can't i leave? what's happening to me--
"i wasn't pretending. were you?"
6K notes
·
View notes