I think there can be some expectations in some progressive spaces that your political interests must cover every issue possible, that you must be as educated as you can be, and that no issue should go unnoticed by you. I can see why it is important to be educated, but I also think it's important to let people specialize in different interests.
If you want an example, I'm a trans man, and so many of my political interests are informed by this, and my "specialty" is on trans male issues. While I definitely am interested in more than this, I recognize there are some issues I shouldn't be centered on. I will learn about different people and their struggles, but it isn't my place to speak on it as an authority.
I think it's important to let people do this. It is only an issue when you refuse to listen to other people or disregard other people and their needs. It's fine for me to be interested in trans male issues, but if I used that interest to say that other trans people don't deserve anything, then that's the issue. It isn't an issue that I am invested in a particular "niche" issue.
184 notes
·
View notes
Congrants on the 100 followers 4402!!! You deserve much more for your amazing writing<3
For the event, can i request 28. princess carry with ikey? If im not wrong, he already said he likes being carried like a princess!!
So maybe after a day out w him he starts complaining about how his feet hurt from wearing heels for such a long time and reader just starts carrying him like the princess he is
thank you for the compliment, i appreciate it!
kyaaaa… does anyone else���s heart lurch and jump and do a sick dance move when they think about being swept off their feet and carried like a princess or is it just me… i’m doing research, like, totally…!
tags: established relationship, fluff, gender neutral reader
#100 followers for 4402 - 28. princess carry
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Isn’t it beautiful?” You hold Ike’s hand within your own as the ocean waves lap along the shore. It’s a peaceful beach, with sloping sands and sprouted grass right where you stand, dividing the sand and the stable dirt under your feet. “I discovered it a while ago. It’s hard to find, so people don’t usually visit here, even though it’s so calm. It’s for just the two of us.”
“It is. I love it,” Ike says. He looks contented, but his eyes drift to his shoes. “It’s just that, when you said we were going to the beach, I thought you meant the side with the boardwalk.”
“Oh. Right.” You forgot. Ike usually wears boots with a high heel. Stilettos and sand are sworn enemies.
“Um, don’t worry! I’ll figure something out.”
“But how? You’ll sink.”
“Yeah… You have a point, I guess.” He sours. “My feet kind of hurt from all the walking, too.”
“They do?”
“It’s fine. I’ll manage.”
“But I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“It’s not the first time, and definitely won’t be the last. I’m used to it. It’s not that bad after so long, but still, the sand is going to be a problem – aah!”
Ike’s thought gets cut off as you squat, swing your arm under his legs, and gather him all up in a bundle. In his surprise, he grabbed the first thing his hands landed on – your shoulder – and your hands support him as you hold him gingerly.
He sputters, so small in your arms. “R-Reader! What are you – did you seriously just –“
“You said it yourself, the sand’s a problem, right?”
You readjust. Ike clings to your neck as he bounces once in your grasp, and shoves his head along your shoulder and out of sight. “How can you even carry me?”
You step forward to where the beach starts with a playful grin. “I’m much stronger than I look.”
Your shoes meet the doughy sand at a lower level than the grass. A short breath frosts down the scruff of your neck while you jump down and Ike buries himself closer to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his ears glow red between the gold earrings.
“Look at me, princess?”
Ike shoots up at the pet name, and sure enough, the rest of his face glows in the same blush all the way down to his neck. He doesn’t even want to fight how that name runs straight through his veins and into his heart. He’s too set in your arms to resist.
He melts like a sigh as you hold him higher. Ike tastes like ocean against your lips.
The sticky, salty air glues his mouth to yours for a blink longer than intended. “Let me treat you like royalty,” you murmur.
Ike nods, transfixed.
For Ike, you are eternal. Your face is every reflection off the bubbling sea and every sparkle shed by the sun. To be held like this is enough. The kiss is enough. You are enough. The minutes pass but the world is stuck in a selfish pause, and he replays all your love on loop.
For you, he is loyal and love, and you know he is too precious to last another moment like this. The second goes by. You let it go.
So you hoot and holler, the quiet broken, and he squeaks in response as you run along the shore. “Incoming, please make way for Your Royal Highness, the lovely Princess Ike!”
Your princess cracks into songbird chirps and a red-faced smile. “What are you doing, there’s no one around!”
“Sorry, can’t hear you, too busy spreading the good word of my beloved princess.” You stop to stare at the ocean. The seafoam rises and falls flat against itself, and rustles out the music of the waves as the whitewater dies out on the wet sand. “YO, OCEAN, YOU’RE NOTHING COMPARED TO MY IKEY!”
You spin around, and his earrings swing with the motion. Ike squeals. The sea breeze picks up a spray of water that flicks against your faces, but his laughter is high-pitched and uncontrollable, and persists even when the saltwater gets in his mouth.
Bubbly like the ocean backdrop, but he’s far more breathtaking than the beach could ever be. Especially at this angle, where his eyes can barely stay open because he’s smiling so wide, and the tousled ends of his hair matches the bottle-blue waves behind him, and he is so close that his giggles breathe life back at you. Your hands are flush along his back where they belong. The sandy grasp treasures the tide.
129 notes
·
View notes
Just to be clear
When it is said that Sivvus is a virgin
He is absolutely not inexperienced. He has just never had a partner.
What does this look like? He knows very, /very/ well how to touch himself. He has explored many ways of doing so. The man is 110 years old, and masturbation isn't always just your dominant hand in the dark.
Sometimes he settles before a mirror and watches himself
Often times he will indulge while in the baths, with many oils and lotions nearby to be used with thorough, /thorough/ and attentive skill upon himself.
He has never lacked time, nor privacy, so there are evenings where Sivvus may begin with his fingers in his hair, scraping his manicured and elegant fingers across his scalp, creating shivers with feather light touches on his own ears, tickling his eyelashes and gently scratching his lips before they part for him
He will lick the tip of each finger, rolling his tongue slowly before dipping them in further, enjoying his own heat. He will scratch and tickle his way down his own neck, bring goosebumps to his flesh as his wet, slick fingers dance across his nipples. Flicking, pinching, swirling, caressing.
Sometimes it will be over an hour before he reaches for the ache between his legs.
sometimes, he will edge himself for an hour longer until sweat shines on his brow and his heart stutters in his chest.
He would make quite the lover, should he ever take one. And if not, what a sight to behold should he ever allow someone to watch....
26 notes
·
View notes
Guys guys. The Restaurant I chef in just had a major budget cut for no reason (we are literally making record profits) and all the chefs had their hours cut. Not this annoyed them all, and I have heard muttering of unionisation. They are so few restaurants in the UK that are unionised. Like the Cheffing industry is so anti Union that even the workers muttering about it is a major step in any restaurant. I really think we might unionise this time. God I hope so.
I have always said their is power in a Union. God I am so excited if this works. I might be able to get my one 20 minute break in an 8 hour shift in which I am constantly standing up and moving heaving things in a swelteringly hot room (except for the fridges and freezers which are painfully cold) up to 25 minutes and get all my hours back.
To all British Chefs of Tumblr Unionise. Get an actual healthy amount of a break and get fair pay. Like you do a very very hard job. Like you deserve to be treated better.
23 notes
·
View notes