#hope someone likes this!

[lilyrizzy]

omg please share more about paying for it!!! that is a god tier concept. max WOULD objectively love that… loves doing things for daniel, daniel makes him so happy just existing, he wants to be able to repay daniel in ways that count— make sure he’s taken care of, etc.

(thank you anon for sending me number 12! i wrote more for this wip on the notes app on my phone like a year ago lol & then lost it when i had to factory reset - rip. so this is all i actually have of this wip anymore, based on this concept - max and daniel doing a lil sex worker roleplay)

“Maxy,” Daniel says, looking up from his phone. Max can see it’s open on their text thread, like maybe he was about to message Max. “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”

Max takes in the sight of him perched on the bar stool. The corkscrew of his curls that fall into his eyes, overdue a cut just the way Max loves. His tanned skin, the lovely curve of his nose. The softness to his eyes as he looks at Max, even though right underneath them are dark circles from the months of uncertainty, of bad race results.

There will never be a universe in which Max wouldn’t reach out, he knows that for certain. No matter what Daniel thinks, or what he says, Max will always want him.

“I have been looking at you since you walked in,” Max blurts out, clumsy. “What is your name?”  

Daniel narrows his eyes and frowns at Max, before letting out a laugh that doesn’t sound quite right.

"I’m a bit worried if you don’t-" 

No. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, isn’t how Max imagined it when he tried to think of ways to make Daniel feel good. Max is interrupting before he can finish.  

“You are very beautiful,” he tries again. “Do you have a girlfriend, or of course a boyfriend?”  

Irritation gives way to confusion on Daniel's features as his mouth snaps shut. Then-

Licking his lips, he looks around the bar, over the top of Max’s shoulder, then over his own. Eventually, his eyes settle again on Max, and there’s something a little better there. Playful.  

“Well,” he says, drawing out the word, his accent thicker like it used to get when he would try to impress girls in bars, and Max would look on feeling jealous of the wrong person. “I’m supposed to be meeting my boyfriend, but right now I’m all alone.”  

As if punctuating his words, he picks up his drink and drains the glass. Max wants to breathe a sigh of relief but he doesn't think that would be very in character for someone confident enough to pick Daniel up at a bar.

“That is a shame,” he says evenly instead, “If you were my boyfriend, I would never leave you alone in a bar.” He slides into the stool beside Daniel. “Can I buy you a drink?”  

Daniel throws his head back and laughs, but this time it’s nice. Like he’s surprised, but flattered, which is exactly how Max wants him to feel. It’s working.  

“Sure,” he says with a smirk that makes something in Max’s belly flare hot. 

They don’t speak again, not until after the waiter has set down their drinks-- a Gin and Tonic for Max and whatever top shelf whiskey they have for Daniel-- and it’s Daniel breaking the silence.  

“Macallan, huh?" As he swirls the glass lazily, "you must really be trying to impress me.”  

Max nods, and feeling braver he puts his hand on Daniel’s thigh. Nobody can see them, not underneath the bar top, and so Max is surprised to feel his heart hammering in his throat, even though he’s done this thousands of times before. Put his hands onto Daniel. It feels new suddenly, like the first time all over again. The delicious anticipation of an overtake for first, knowing there’s everything to win or to lose.   

“I told you,” he says making sure to keep their eye contact, “I think you are the most beautiful person and I want you.”  

It’s the truth now like it’s always been. 

Daniel’s’ eyes flick down to the hand Max has on him and then back to his face, which Max can feel is burning red. The upturn of Daniel’s mouth is sly and sexy, like when he backs Max against their kitchen counters and dips his hand into the back of his shorts.  

“You think that’s all it takes, mate? An expensive shot of whiskey and I’m yours?”

There's a challenge in his voice, and this is the easy part, because it's something Max has never known how to back down from when it came to Daniel and getting what he wanted.

“How much would it take?” He counters, eyebrows raised.

Daniel leans back on the stool, spreading his legs wide so that the fabric of his trousers pulls tight. “You couldn’t afford me.”  

Max’s mouth goes dry, and in his underwear his dick twitches. It’s an effort to make sure the next words come out sounding sure and not croaky, desperate.

“Actually, I am a very famous race car driver,” he manages, “so I think that I could. I would pay anything to have you.” 

[koobiie]

shoutout to everyone who wants to infodump but cant string together coherent thoughts to form sentences and instead just look at you like this

[iscariotapologist]

today in church one of the priests referred to trans people as "those who are growing into the gender they were called to be" and i'm kind of enjoying the idea of like....divinely ordained top surgery

[wewontbesleeping]

the weirdest fucking thing to me is how men will be like "it's so hard being a man. no one cares that i'm sad. the loneliness we experience could NEVER be understood by a woman" and then also be like "btw i never talk to my friends and i don't know their names and i love hanging out with men because they don't talk about their stupid emotions all the time. women could never understand a bond like this." like ???

[ruporas]

dragon meat, you, and me

[8pxl]

14 yrs ago i started playing magic the gathering as a kid, and i had the dream to do art for them

3 yrs ago i tweeted about those dreams:

today i’ve released 11 official magic the gathering cards, and it’s honestly so surreal and insane to me! i did that!! i fulfilled a childhood dream, and i honestly couldn’t be more proud 🥹

[tooquirkytolose]

~The Most Beautiful Woman in The World~

Download on itch.io for extra content!

[inkskinned]

the thing about some men is that they want you to remember, at all times, that you are underneath them. that with one word or look or "joke", you will stay beneath them. that even "exceptions" to the rule are not true exceptions - the commonly cited statistic that one in eight men believe they could win against serena williams.

women's gymnastics is often not seen as real gymnastics. whatever the fuck non-euclidian horrors rhythmic gymnasts are capable of, it's often tamped down as being not a sport. some of the most dominant athletes in the world are women. nobody watches women's soccer. despite years of dancing and being built like a fucking brick, men always assume they're faster and stronger than i am. you wouldn't like what happens when they are incorrect. once while drunk at a guy's house i won a held-plank challenge by a solid minute. the party was over after that - he became exceedingly violent.

what i mean is that you can be perfect, and they still think you're ... lacking, somehow. i hope you understand i'm trying to express a neutral statement when i say: taylor swift was the possibly the most patriarchy-palatable, straight-down-the-line woman we could churn out. she is white, conventionally attractive, usually pretty mild in personality. say what you will about her (and you should, she's a billionaire, she can handle it), but a few things seem to be true about her: 1. she can write a damn catchy song, and 2. the eras tour truly was a massive commercial success and was also genuinely an impressive feat of human athleticism and performance.

i don't know if she deserves the title of "woman of the year," i'm not debating that in this post. what i am saying is that she was named Woman of The Year, and then an untalented man got onstage at the golden globes and made fun of her for attending her boyfriend's football games. what i am saying is that this woman altered local economies - and her dating life is still being made into a "harmless" punchline. the camera panned, greedy, over to her downing a full glass of champagne. congratulations taylor! you are woman of the year! but you are a woman. even her.

fuck, man. write better material.

a guy gets onstage at a college graduation and despite the fact like half the crowd is made up of women, he spends a significant proportion of it warning these people - who spent possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars on their education - that they were lied to. that the "real" meaning of femininity is motherhood. that they shouldn't rest on the laurels of that education-they-paid-for but instead throw it away to kneel at a man's heel. imagine that. sweating in your godawful polyester gown (that you also had to pay for!), fresh out of 4 years of pushing yourself ever-harder: and some guy you've never met - who knows nothing about you - he reminds you this "win" is a pyrrhic one at best. you really shouldn't consider yourself that extraordinary. you're still a woman, even after years of study.

god forbid you are not a pretty woman, but if you are pretty, you must be dumb. god forbid you are not ablebodied or white or cis or straight or good at swallowing. you must be beneath a man, or else they are not a man. the equation for masculinity seems to just be: that which is not a woman or womanly (god forbid). anything "feminine" is thereby anathema. to engage in "feminine" things such as therapy, getting a hug from a friend, or crying - it is giving up ones manhood. therefore women need to be put in their place to ensure that masculinity is protected.

this is something i have struggled to explain to terfs - they are not doing the work of feminism, but rather the patriarchy. by asserting that women and men must be (on some secret level) oppositional and in conflict, they also assume that being a woman is akin to being another species. but bigotry does not stem from observational truths or clarity - that is what makes it bigotry. there was nothing in my childhood that made me fundamentally different from my brother. we are treated differently nonetheless. to assert there is some biological drive that enforces my gender role is to assert that women have a gendered role. men do not see women as equal to them not because of biological reality - but instead because the core tenant of the patriarchy is that women aren't full, realized people.

we are told from a very young age to excuse misbehavior as a single man's choice - not all men. it is not all men, just that one guy. all women are gold-digging bitches who belong in the kitchen - but if a man is mean, bigoted, or violent to you, it's just that particular guy, and that means nothing about men-as-a-whole. it is only one guy who got mad when you gently rejected him. it is only one guy who warns her this trophy is heavy, are you sure you can hold it? it is only one guy who smashes her face into the cake. it is only one guy talking into a mic about hating our bodily autonomy.

i have just found that they often wait until the moment we actually seem to be upstaging them. you sit in a meeting where you're presenting your own findings and he says get me a coffee? or you run to the end of the marathon and are about to finish first and he pushes your kids out in front of you. you win the chess game and they make some comment akin to well, you're ugly away. we can be the billionaire and get the dream life and finally fucking do it and yet! still! they have this strange, visceral urge to say well actually, if you think you're so great -

it's not one just one guy. it's one in eight.

[orriculum]

"all men are evil" is radfem/terf rhetoric, but clarifying "all cis men" because you want to signal that you're not transphobic doesn't work because it's still deeply rooted in radfem beliefs. It's saying you believe there's something inherently evil in being born/assigned "male", and you carry it over in how you treat ppl who transition in or out of that gender. "All cis men are evil", is gender essentialist and you can't get around that.

Fucking tired of ppl who think their terf soundbites with a fresh coat of paint are sooo progressive

[garbean]

I love dunmeshi for the like.. built in horror of consumption. Like they eat to survive, they eat to honor their prey, they eat to possibly mourn someone. Laios eats monsters because he wants to learn more about the things he loves, Senshi eats monsters to feel included in the ecosystem because he didn't fit in with the outside and with most creatures in general, Chilchuck DOESN'T eat as much as he could because eating too much could kill all the party members, Marcille eats monsters and hates it but she still does it because she'll die before she could save Falin.

[demaparbat-hp]

She will (and he'll let her)

[hychlorions]

[moonlightmagical]

buddy dawn cannot raise himself from the grave.

buddy dawn is not a chosen one.

buddy dawn is a child.

buddy dawn was manipulated by organized religion through no fault of his own, most likely since he was born.

buddy dawn had his throat slit by people he probably considered good friends.

buddy dawn is kristen applebees in a different—worse—life.

buddy dawn is dead, and there’s a good fucking chance helio won’t answer his questions.

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[originalartblog]

(continued under the cut ↓)

did you hear about my amazing propaganda yet

[datcravat]

pe ru so na