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#we need to stick together as a community

starberry-skies · 2 years

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maybe it's just me, but i feel like conflicting and obscure labels are actually pretty understandable if you just think for a second.

if someone's a straight lesbian, they are either multigender/bigender and are attracted to women regardless, or are heteroromamtic homosexual (or vice versa). of course, there can be more options as well, and it's so easy to just... ask! they'd probaby be happy to tell you. if not, just don't worry about it, because it's probably none of your business anyway.

same thing with mspec gay men/lesbians, xenogender folks, neopronouns users, almost anyone. it's not that hard to reach out and offer kindness instead of immediate disgust and rejection. we're a queer community, and the last thing we need is to fall to infighting.

#lgbtqia+#lgbtq+#lgbt positivity #queer #MOGAI #neopronouns #xenogenders #mspec gay #mspec lesbian #queer community #straight lesbian #straight gay #micro-identities #i think that's everything?#chirping #we're a community. do you hear me? we need to stick together. we need to help support and protect eachother.#100

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playawner · 27 days

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Here's a reminder because I've seen discourse regarding queer identities a lot lately, both here and in other apps.

I don't fuck with 3xcluz1onists (e, s, i) nor tr4nzm4dicalists (a, s, e). If you are that please block me. I do not tolerate them as I see it as a way to harass and infight other queer invididuals without getting called out; I've seen a LOT of them harassing, sending d3ath threaths, even DOXXING, which is something I do not accept no matter what.

Yeah, I may not get some labels, but I don't do that! You shouldn't too , you shouldn't go in your way and call people invalid or telling them to d1e what the fuck?

Focus your anger and confusion at the right places, at the amount of conservatives threatening the lives of many trans kids, at how some countries are now calling lgbtq+ rights a "terrorist group". Someone being demi or a masc/fem nonbinary isn't worse than that. If you think it is then there's something up with you

#probably will delete it later. I'm just so tired #and if you are going to send hate anon related to this: cry about it #I will immediately delete it and find a way to block you <3 #y'all are hateful and are the worst people ever; I do not want you all here #we are queer for a reason: we are seen as weird by the eyes of a conservative society. We need to stick together like it #zash's stuff #important #lgbtq #lgbtq community #anti exclusionist #anti transmed #oh yeah I'm also anti r4dqu33r. Y'all are as disgusting as them. Do not group our freedom with your harmful ideologies thank you

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thelovelybitten · 5 months

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hey pookies I need more stendy moots pls I need TO GET MY BRAIN DUMP OUT but also cry with people abt how cute they are and share headcanons w each other and—

#otp: I cant do it alone #viv speaks #stendy #stendy South Park #sp fanfiction #I’m desperate #it’s hard talking to me myself for long periods of time LMFAO #I just need this u know #WE ARE A TEENT TINY COMMUNITY okay #we NEED TO STICK TOGETHER #HNNGH

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tadpoledancer · 1 year

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people say that republicans only care when issues affects them, which isn't true. as we've seen with the last 6 years even when issues directly affect them and their everyday lives they still Do Not Give A Shit

#socialist #leftist #communist #socialism #communism #this is specifically about white women #and especially when roe was freshly overturned and they cried 'we need to stick together were all women'#after overwhelmingly voting for trump in 2016 and 2020

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schizopositivity · 1 year

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If you don't judge people for saying "sorry adhd brain" in public, then don't judge people for saying "sorry schizophrenia brain" in public

If you correct people when they misuse the term "ocd" then you need to correct people when they misuse the terms "psychotic", "delusional", "hallucinating" and "schizophrenic"

If you don't stare, laugh at or fear a stranger in public flapping their hands, then you need to do the same for a stranger in public talking to someone who isn't actually there.

If you give a trigger warning to sensitive topics then you need to give a trigger warning to unreality and false information as a prank.

If you want to normalize medication like antidepressants you also need to normalize medications like antipsychotics.

If you don't like people without your disorder joking about it online and report it as harassment, then you need to do the same for the tons of nonschizophrenics making "schizoposting" memes to make fun of us.

Just please include schizo-spec and psychotic acceptance into your mental illness/neurodiversity acceptance. We are part of your community whether you like it or not. We are constantly stigmatized, misrepresented and made fun of. We do what we can to help you, please return the favor.

Mental illness/neurodiversity acceptance is an ongoing action. We will get nowhere in the long run if we split the community into the "in" group and the "out" group. We could all accomplish so much if we worked together. But you need to include the "weird" people that don't fit into your aesthetic and don't fit the social norms.

Us psychotics and schizo-specs have been struggling for years and have been the only people fighting for ourselves while the people we plead to barely see us as human. If you are nonpsychotic and nonschizo-spec, you can help us more than you realize. Please include us and stick up for us the same way we have been including and sticking up for you.

#mental illness #nd #schizophrenia #neurodivergent #schizophrenic #psychosis #actuallyschizophrenic #mental health awareness #pseriouslypsychotic #neurodivergent community #neurodiversity #mental illness acceptance #neurodiversity acceptance #mental health #sanism

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thedisablednaturalist · 5 months

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I think some of us ambulatory wheelchair users are getting pretty close to (or already are) throwing full time users and higher support needs disableds under the bus. And that shit needs to be shut down NOW.

It's the problem of: "how dare they treat us like those people!"

The problem with ableists isn't that they assume we can't walk The problem is they assume we don't need our wheelchairs if we can. That we don't need our handicapped placards or transport vehicles. That we are taking advantage of other "actually" disabled people, that the ableists also don't give a shit about unless they're using them as an excuse to be ableist.

The problem with ableists isn't that they assume we are intellectually and/or developmentally disabled. The problem is they assume that every intellectually/developmentally disabled person needs to be treated with baby talk, dismissal, and ignorance. That they don't see them as people and refuse to listen to intellectually and developmentally disabled voices without making fun of them.

Stop throwing people with higher support needs under the bus. Stop doing what the abled neurodivergent community did to all physically disabled people. Us cripples gotta stick together and fight for one another, not push one down to make ourselves somehow look better to ableist fucks.

#wrenfea.exe #i wont call the people out but seriously you guys need to think about how you phrase things #and how you talk about full time users #they arent lucky or privileged #and i see the way some of yall get more offended about being seen as developmentally/intellectually disabled #instead of how these ableists think it's okay to treat people like that #chronic disability #chronic pain #spoonie #fibromyalgia #disability #wheelchair #ambulatory wheelchair user #cripplepunk #developmental disabilities #intellectual disability #cpunk #degenerative disc disease

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 14 days

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something i noticed

A while back, I wrote this analysis reviewing how unfair the magic education system is in Twisted Wonderland. I would recommend reading that before this post, as it provides tons of context for what I’m about to talk about and add onto the discussion.

In 2-6 of the Tapis Rouge event, Vil has stylists from Luxe, a high end fashion brand, dress up Azul, Jamil, and Ace to be a part of his red carpet entourage. Once the boys come out in their new threads and makeup, Jamil and Azul, two individuals who are meticulous about details, provide some telling commentary.

According to those two, the team of stylists that helped them were mages. Azul further remarks that they were quite skilled mages and that having this kind of talent indicates a “first class brand store”. Their hair and makeup is also suggested to be done via magic, though this service is not normally performed for customers. Previously, we knew that skincare can be infused with magic (Vil does so with his own) and that magic can be used to style one’s hair (Jamil tells us in his Birthday Boy vignettes that he does his intricate hair with magic and used to take far longer with it when he lacked the precision). Idia states in book 6 that Jamil had no formal magic training before NRC, so that means Jamil was self-taught in his hair-handling magic.

… Okay but 😭 WHAT DOES THIS IMPLY ABOUT MAGIC AND CLASS??? Is it just a coincidence that the teams of stylists who staff a high class store are ALL mages? Surely not, given how uncommon mages are in the general population. The store (or maybe the brand itself?) must be going out of its way to hire them because I guess being dressed with magic is a more “luxurious” experience than the normal way. We can also guess from Azul and Jamil’s accounts that the degree of magic these staffers use requires significant skill and precision, which either means they need formal instruction or lots of practice on their own. Neither option is afforded to people with naturally low or no magic reserves at all 💀 meaning jobs like this are gated to mages only.

Now, this doesn’t inherently mean the rich and famous people who frequent these stores are also all mages (Kalim’s dad and Vil’s dad are two non-mages who are extremely wealthy and influential); the majority of them must still be regular people since humans seem to be the majority, and 90% of humans are non-mages. It also doesn’t guarantee that the Luxe stylists are paid more than a non-Luxe stylist (although I do think this is possible for a prestige brand, especially if we factor in commissions on sales).

What’s sticking out to me here is that there exists an association between magic and luxury. The reverse also appears to have some truth based on what little other lore we have; Ruggie states that there are not a lot of mages from his hometown, which could imply a history of non-mages being driven into poorer communities. It all fits together a little too well to seem coincidental… but obviously, Ruggie’s hometown is just one place and could be an outlier rather than the exemplar. We know that most non-mages must live an average lifestyle, not the extremes that Ruggie has experienced. Still, the claim that magic is typically associated with the upper class holds and it continues to be perpetuated in the lore.

Anyway, Fellow and Rollo were right—

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divinesangel · 21 days

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— 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

pm me for a personal reading!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

my dearest,

as i write this letter to you, my heart is filled with excitement and anticipation for the life we will share together. every word i write comes from a place of genuine affection and admiration. there's nothing i would love more than to shower you with my affection in love, the love that i've been saving to myself for many years now. i've been waiting for you for such a long time and i still am. i can't wait for the day that we get to do endless things together, visit, many places, and do many things together. you inspire me to grow and to expand myself in ways i haven't been able to before. i'm quite eager to see our future together unfolding in abundance and prosperity. i'm pretty sure we will build a life filled with stability, harmony, and security, which is more than i could ever ask for. i will protect our connection and our home will be like a sanctuary, a place where love and joy will be present, and where we will be able to create our own family.

you need to know that i will always stick by you through thick and thin, to support you in anything that you need, in your endeavors and your dreams, and to always work to make our connection happen and for our future family to thrive. i'm pretty sure that we will be able to any storm that comes our way. although sometimes i'd rather keep the bad news to myself so you don't have to experience any negativity, i promise to always communicate with you and show you my commitment to honesty and transparency, even when the truth may be difficult to face.

i will always cherish you and take care of you. my love for you knows no bounds, and i am thankful for every moment we share. your happiness is my greatest priority, and i will do everything in my power to ensure that you feel loved, cherished, and appreciated each and every day. with you as my partner, i know that anything is possible.

until we meet again, know that you hold my heart in your hands, now and forever.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

my love,

my heart overflows with warmth and anticipation for the journey that lies ahead of us. it's as if fate itself has brought us together and knew that we were always meant to be together. even if we haven't met yet, i just know that our connection will be instant as i feel the sparks even now. it's all gonna be magical, reminding me that our story is guided by something greater than ourselves. i'm impatient for the day we will get to experience that. my soul fell for you the moment it entered my body.

every time i think of you, my mind drifts back to the innocence and purity of childhood, like the sweet nostalgia. you remind me of something sweet, although distant. it's probably due to our souls knowing each other for lifetimes, finding solace and comfort in the familiarity of our bond.

my greatest desire is to see you happy, to witness the glow of joy radiating from your being and being there by your side to see you overflow with happiness; being there for you every time you need me. i know you'll be there for me as well, and it such a comfort for my heart. hand in hand, we can make anything possible.

with all my love, your future spouse

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

my most precious,

i find myself grappling with the complexities of life, feeling torn between the various paths laid out before me. there are moments when i question whether i am truly ready for what lies ahead, whether i possess the strength and clarity to navigate the challenges that await. the truth is, my love, there are aspects of my life that i am still coming to terms with, aspects that fill me with uncertainty and doubt. i am confronted with decisions that demand my attention, choices that require me to confront my deepest fears and desires.

but then, amidst the chaos of my mind, there is you. with you, my love, everything changes. in your presence, i find a sense of peace and clarity that i have never known before. it's as if the weight of the world is lifted from my shoulders, and suddenly, everything feels possible. you have this remarkable way of making me feel like everything will be alright. your unwavering faith in me, your boundless love and support—it fills me with a sense of courage and conviction that i never knew i possessed.

there are many things i'd like to talk to you about that have to do with how i've been feeling. things that i've never dared to tell anyone else out of fear they might not get it as well as you will. i've experienced dark times in the past that i'm trying to come into terms with, and i will tell you all about it.

it's as if you are my guiding light, leading me through the darkness and showing me the way forward. yes, there may still be moments of doubt and uncertainty, but with you, my love, i know that i am not alone. with you, i feel as though i can face whatever the future may hold with courage and grace.

yours always, x

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €5 ($5.43) so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

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prismatic-bell · 1 month

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So I’ve seen a few posts going around lately about philosemitism, but mostly in the context of people being called out for it, and it’s occurring to me that if you don’t have a frame of reference for it, you probably don’t understand why it’s really a very bad thing.

So I’m going to share a story that happened to me a few years ago, when I was studying for my b’nei mitzvah.

This lady pulls into my drive thru at work. She’s wearing a MAGA hat, and before I can hide my Magen David necklace—this was not that long after Charlottesville—she absolutely GUSHES “oh, you’re Jewish?” and immediately starts going on about beautiful traditions, Jesus was Jewish, yadda yadda. (All the Jews reading this are currently nodding because they’ve all met this woman at least once.)

And then she gets to the part I want to highlight for the goyim, the learning part of this:

Her: And we need to stick together, because you know what’s right in the middle of Jerusalem, right?

Me: …..the Temple? (It’s not, it’s at the city’s edge, but I could see someone hearing “center of religious and cultural life” and making an assumption.)

Her: no!

Me: …….the Knesset?

Her: no! How do you spell Jerusalem?

Me, thinking she saw the Hebrew book next to me: yod-reish-shin-lamed—-

Her: no, no! U-S-A! J-E-R-U-S-A! The United States is part of Israel!

Y’all.

This woman.

Legitimately believed.

That “Jerusalem.”

Was the name.

Of a Jewish city.

In a language.

THAT DOES NOT HAVE A “J” SOUND.

She literally told me I was wrong when I pronounced it Yerushalayim, which is the Hebrew transliteration of the older “Urusalim,” which is the original name of the city in the Canaanite languages circa 1500 BCE. (An even older inscription has been found in Egyptian, but it’s a little wonky because the two languages didn’t have the exact same sounds—think of how an English word spoken by a Japanese person and then transliterated as they said it would look.) “Jerusalem” as a form literally cannot occur until after the word has filtered through Latin and into English—at the earliest, the 3rd or 4th century CE—because there’s no J in Latin, either.

THIS is philosemitism: this woman wanted so badly for Judaism to be her fun toy that she completely ignored Jewish reality. We weren’t actually people to her; we were a thing for her to exotify. When actual Jewish experience refuted her she ignored it, but many philosemites will get angry when they’re faced with reality.

If you’re thinking “wow, that sounds a lot like fetishization,” you’re right, because it is. It’s fetishization crossed with the kind of “support” a lot of people offer the queer community, where they love it when it’s waving rainbow flags and “oh my g-d, girl, slay,” but the moment it’s anger over the STD crisis or the underserving of homeless queer youth, they dip. They’re only around while it’s ~*~*~aesthetic.~*~*~

Philosemitism isn’t “loving Jews too much.” It’s loving a stereotyped ideal you put on a pedestal, and not allowing for diversity of Jewish experience.

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flamingpudding · 10 months

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The Ghost King is my Uncle Drabbles

A/N: The original this sorta ties too: Original One Shot

>>Masterpost

Shovel Talks

Constantine swore up a storm of course only mentally. It wasn't like he was going to voice any of his thoughts right now. Not when he was faced with the good damn Ghost King. All he wanted was to summon one of his contracted demons to gather some information and what did he get the fucking Ghost King.

"Trench coat! We meet again. You worked on your manners, I hope?"

"Of course your majesty." Well he didn't but he avoided the freaking bats like crazy.

"Well I gotta thank you. Well you and my In-Law that's busy and asked me to substitute for your call since we meet and before and so on." The Ghost King casually waved his hand in a dismissive manner before looking around with his eyes sparkling in recognition and it sent a shudder down Constantine's back. "You are giving me the perfect opportunity."

Did… did the Ghost King just pull out a green glowing sword from a fucking portal and why did he have that glint in his eyes? Constantine paled. Why did this have to happen to him?

"If you will excuse me for a moment. I need to look for a Kryptonian real quick. I will deal with your problem right after. Promise."

With that the Ghost King phased through the floor apparently in search of Superman who just happened to be in the watchtower today. Fuck. Constantine run out of the room in mild panic and pushed whoever was on communication aside as he dialed for the bats. The moment someone on their end pick up he didn't bother to explain anything and just shouted for one of them to get their fucking ass here as fast as possible or superman was going to be history!

Okay that might also have sent the people witnessing his panic into chaos but this was a fucking emergency.

It was only minutes later that Batman did indeed arrived together with Nightwing and Red Robin with the Zeta-Tube at the watchtower to bear witness to Superman getting cornered by the Ghost King with Constantine bound by echo-bindings for apparently having annoyed the Ghost King with his pleading to spare the Kryptonian.

"Now I am sure I don't have to repeat myself but, IF you ever hurt Baby Bat a fate way worse than the Soul Shredder and the Nightmare Realm will be the least of your problems. The last guy that hurt my family is still in there and I will gladly make you permanently join him."

A cough resounded and Danny turned his head, a bright smile on his face as he spotted his little nephew and two of the little babies.

"Baby Bat, Baby Menace and Baby Stalker! I will be done in a little bit!"

"Ghost Ki-"

"Uncle Danny."

Batman let out a suffering sigh as Nightwing and Red Robin snickered.

"Uncle Danny. Why are you threatening Superman?"

"Because Jazz forbade me to use the Soul Shredder on humans but Superman is not human so I am allowed to use it on him."

"Uncle Danny, why do you want to use the 'Soul Shredder'" -as a joke Nightwing used air quotes- "on the him in the first place?"

"Shovel talk."

Batman chocked and Red Robin spluttered as Nightwing had a hard time suppressing a laugh. Constantine and Superman gapped at the Ghost King.

"You… are threading him for shovel talk purposes? What even is the nightmare realm?"

"A place you don't want to be in. Very traumatic and perfect to externally punish anyone that hurts my family in any regard as long as I am allowed to dump them there."

There was an added barely hearable grumble of "I would have sent the Joker and Ra's in there long ago if Clockwork weren't such a stick in the mud about keeping the timeline straight and their roles and bla bla bla."

Red Robin did a double take. Did the Ghost King just admit that he would have liked to sent their rogues into a place that was most likely hell? Wait didn't he mention sending someone in there permanently earlier.

No one noticed Superman slowly inching away from the blade still pointed at him while the Ghost King's attention wasn't on him. Well the bats noticed but didn't react to it, deeming it safer for the Super.

"Uh you said you dumped someone permanently in there?" Red Robin tried to keep the attention on them.

"Well yea." The Ghost King casually shrugged, adjusting the blade so Superman could no longer inch away from him. "I looked away from the Ice Mirrors for a week and someone dared to hurt Moma Bat. Of course I was enraged and snatched that guy off the street to permanently drop him in there."

There was a beat of heavy silence. Batman under his cowl bluescreened especially with how casually Danny just admitted at having snatched up his parents murderer to punish the man. Well that explained why he never found the culprit.

"Now If you excuse me little Babies I am gonna finish this talk with the Kryptonian and make sure he knows what will happen if he hurts Baby Bat."

With this the Ghost King turned back to the rapidly paling Superman with a feral grin. The Birds sweat dropped as Batman was still not mentally present, his mind still working through the information.

"Think I would be able to borrow that sword?" Red Robin suddenly asked as Nightwing eyed Batman worringly. "He only said that Great Grandma forbade him to use it on humans. He never said we couldn't."

"Don't let Robin or Hood hear that." Nightwing said, even if he wanted to borrow it himself too. With B mentally still checked out he had to act as the responsible one. That wouldn't stop him from asking their Ghost Uncle later if he could borrow the sword anyway.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #fanfic #crossover #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #superman #john constantine #DPxDC #Ghost Uncle Danny #Shovel Talks #dc x dp fic #crackish #no beta wie die like danny #drabble

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livingemkayde · 10 months

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barbecue

neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: Rated 18+. Minors please dni. Smut. Oral; f!receiving, fingering; f!receiving. Semi public fingering. Pet names. Not proof read.

a/n: guys. the love on ride literally changed my life. like actually. thank you so much for the support. due to the love on the one shot, consider this part 2 (and also my token of deep gratitude). if you haven't already, please check out my masterlist! im writing a din fic so if you want to read more of me, you know where to find it. last thing, my shit keeps getting community labeled so spread the word to change ur settings i guess?? dont really know how to fix that, i give warnings at the top of every fic. really really last thing, i live and breathe for your comments/asks/submissions, i will consider your requests for future parts if you guys want one. love you all tysm

edit: gonna continue with this and make it a small series. comment or message me if you would like to be added to the tag list!!!

wc: 4.5k

this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:

part i

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

The ride back is silent.

He just kind of pushed you off his lap and back into the passenger’s seat—then started to drive you home without another word. You were too scared to say anything—you sat, body completely facing him—mouth hanging open like you wanted to say something, but you had no idea what to say to that.

To rejection.

Your dad’s call had really killed the vibe. Whenever you looked over at Joel he had a certain scowl that told you he didn’t want to talk about it—didn’t want to talk to you.

But you wanted to talk to him.

You really did—like you worship the ground he walks on because he’s Joel Miller, and he just pushed you off his lap after sticking his fingers inside you, and you seemingly can’t get enough.

“So are we gonna talk about—” you look over at him but he cuts you off in an instant.

“No.”

“No? Joel—”

“I said no,” he gives you a quick glance then turns back to the road.

That shut you up. You feel kind of dejected. Like maybe it was a heat of the moment type thing. But it didn’t feel like that to you, if the quiet heartbreak settling in your chest is any indication.

You turn to look out the window when you feel tears prick your eyes—your throat becoming heavy.

All he gives you is a long sigh that pushes through the car.

When he pulls into your driveway, he doesn’t even put the car in park, just switches gears to reverse so he can back out just as quickly.

Great.

You mumble a quick thanks and exit—if you slammed the door—you didn’t notice over the ringing in your ears.

You enter your house, rubbing your hands over your face. When you shut the front door, your head is spinning. You rest your forehead against it but a voice—your dad’s voice—snaps you out of it.

“Library?”

You spin around to look at him.

Fuck.

You have to keep it together.

“Yeah,” you reply. But even to your ears, you sound a little breathless.

“That Joel?” He tries to peer out the window of the front door—you know he can see the pick-up pulling out of the drive and into Joel’s across the street. Your dad doesn’t look skeptical—more confused than anything.

“Yeah. He was nice enough to give me a ride back,” you remove your shoes and start to walk towards the stairs. You need to leave before your cheeks turn beet red.

You think he’s about to let you off the hook. You’re halfway up the stairs, giving him a small smile goodbye, and he slips in his last question—

“No books?”

Fuck.

God.

Think.

Fuck.

“N-nothing good there. I need…special—books for my research,” you try to take one more step but he raises his eyebrow at your response and you freeze.

Special books? What the fuck are you thinking? What does that even mean?

You wait, breathless. And he kinda scowls at the floor then takes one more look up at you.

“Alright then,” he says and stalks off towards the living room —you let out a staggered breath.

Thank god.

The next few days roll into one long sleepless night. You toss and turn when you remember what happened in the truck. You aren’t embarrassed—but you’re hurt more than anything.

Joel Miller.

The last time you saw him, 2 summers ago, he was teaching you how to drive—you asked your dad, but he had said something about how he'd get too frustrated if he tried to teach you.

He asked Joel to give you your first lesson that night.

You remember sitting in the same truck, but in the driver's seat. He reached over to point out something on the speedometer, and you kept staring at his face instead of the dash—when he looked over and saw you weren’t paying attention he teased you.

But it was different.

Not like the teasing from a couple days ago.

You knew it was playful—this new teasing felt flirtatious. Like he actually cares if you’re seeing someone.

Cared.

Fuck.

You admittedly cried about it. A lot. And didn’t get out of bed much in the days since.

Your dad miraculously pulled through with the barbecue. It's actually funny how the one time you want him to forget something—he’s way too enthusiastic about it and somehow ends up inviting the whole neighborhood and then some.

Your dad asks you if you want to invite Liam as you lie in bed, you give him a shrug—not really hearing him. If Liam comes, who cares. If Liam doesn’t come, who cares. You certainly don’t. Liam isn’t really anything compared to a certain forty something year old who just rejected you in possibly the worst way imaginable.

Pathetic is probably the right word. You feel pathetic. Like maybe you’re just another woman in the neighborhood who has a crush on Joel that he would never go for. Like you were a mistake.

It's certainly what he made you feel like.

The day of the barbecue comes around and you haul yourself out of bed and into a sundress. Your dad is freaking out downstairs about the logistics of being able to feed the—honestly horrific—amount of people he’s invited. How they’re all going to fit in your backyard is a mystery to you.

You know Joel’s gonna be there—and you don’t know if you can stomach seeing him. The thought makes you a bit dizzy.

People start flooding in, all giving you a smile, hug, and congratulations as they walk through the house. You try to put on your best face but when every knock or doorbell ringing could be Joel, you bite your lip and furrow your brows.

There’s a lot of people. And by a lot—there’s probably close to 60 people in this house—spread through the backyard—and you can only really name 20.

Your phone buzzes and your heart drops a bit. You don’t know why. Joel doesn’t text you.

Sarah Miller: on our way soon

Fuck.

You like the message and go to turn off your phone when a certain notification catches your eye.

Liam Moore: excited to see you :)

So your dad had invited him. You groan a bit, but you can’t be too mad.

You slink to the backyard, saying hi to everyone as you move to find your dad. He’s standing with some men you recognize from the neighborhood. They all congratulate you again and you give them a smile and a thank you in return.

“You invited Liam?” you say under your breath when the group of men go back to talking.

“Yeah? I don’t really know what this—” he shrugs his shoulders dramatically “—means so I invited him just in case.” When you don’t respond he continues.

“That a problem sweetheart?” He looks at you, worried.

“No, no—I—thank you, dad. I mean it, really. This is awesome,” you give him a small smile and hug.

You turn towards the entrance of the backyard and see Joel and Sarah walking through the sliding doors. He catches your eye almost immediately—then drops your gaze.

He looks—good. Sporting a couple 6 packs of beer in each hand, Sarah carrying one more behind him. He moves through the crowd easily, saying hi to everyone in passing. God, he looks like a celebrity. It makes you roll your eyes a bit and chug down some of the beer in your hand.

When he arrives you move past him and greet Sarah. She screams (which makes everyone look at the two of you) and gives you a hug, jumping into your arms. It’s nice to see her. She congratulates you and starts telling you her entire life story that has been the past two years in response to your simple “How’ve you been?”

You missed her. And you should have stayed in touch more—but you were extremely busy—your dad was lucky to get a phone call once a week.

“But, he’s not important anymore—isn’t it crazy how fast men can move on? God. Anyways, congratulations again!” She really does move a mile a minute, “Dad, did you say congrats?”

Her words hit you like a truck—her story, very—ironic—considering your situation with the man she’s pulling over by the bicep.

“Uh yeah. Hey kid,” he says, not really meeting your eye.

“‘Hey kid’? Dude—” Sarah gives him a knowing look and pushes him towards you.

Joel wraps his arm around you—you feel like you can’t breathe. Your face touches his chest and you retract back from the hug like you’ve been burned. It sure feels like it.

“Congrats,” he gives you a nod and clears his throat.

Sarah rolls her eyes and gives you a look, her face saying; ‘god why is my dad so weird?’ You try to laugh it off and hope no one notices your blush.

Thankfully, she pulls you away from him, you toss a look over your shoulder and see him staring back at you.

Liam arrives shortly after. You leave Sarah with some neighborhood friends and make your way to the front door.

When you open it, you’re pleasantly surprised.

Liam is—hot?

You only remember his 12th grade image—sporting hair that was a bit too short for his head and some ill fitting clothes but this is—different.

He looks nice. Polished.

Different from what you remembered, or what you expected.

“Hey!” he says and brings you into a hug.

“Hey Liam,” you chuckle into his arm.

“Good to see you! I didn’t know if we would ever get together. Have you been getting my calls?” he pulls back and gives you a soft look.

You feel bad.

“Uh, I think my dad is like super bad with the phone. I didn’t know you had been calling the house till like yesterday,” you reply sheepishly. God, starting this out with a lie.

“Hey no worries, anyways, congratulations!” His hand lands on your back as you move to let him inside. It trails a bit lower and you try not to think too much about it.

“Yeah, you too—Princeton right?” You hope that’s right—you haven’t been keeping up with him.

“Oh uh Yale, but close enough,” he chuckles and accepts the beer you hand him.

“Shit. Sorry, I—you know—my brain,” you touch his arm, gently, in apology—and you can’t help but notice the muscle underneath his shirt. “You enjoyed it?”

“Oh yeah. It was great. Going to Columbia for law school.”

Hm. Smart.

“Wow! That’s—wow. Congrats. Really, Liam, that’s awesome,” you say, and you mean it. He’s impressing you. And he’s not so hard on the eyes either.

It almost makes you forget about your dad’s best friend. Almost.

Liam pulls you into small talk—you walk him around the house while introducing him to the people you do know—while purposefully trying to avoid the backyard until he suggests getting some air.

Your dad is the first to greet you—drunk. He’s standing next to Joel.

“Hey! You made it!” He slurs. Oh god.

“Yeah thanks for the invite sir,” Liam extends his hand to shake your dad’s.

“Yeah, yeah…this is Joel,” your dad says as they drop hands.

Liam extends his to Joel and you bite your lip and almost have to look away out of embarrassment when he takes it.

“Liam,” he says while shaking. Liam’s eyes turn down to their hands joined and grimaces a bit.

“Joel.”

“Nice to meet you sir,” Liam says. You can tell he’s trying to drop Joel’s hand.

“Likewise.”

Joel lets the handshake go on for far too long. An awkward cloud blankets the air. Liam looks at you and when you meet his eye, you drop his gaze and peek over at Joel. Your dad hardly seems to notice in his drunken state but Joel seems mad—and Liam seems scared.

When Joel finally lets Liam’s hand go, Liam shakes it out a bit like it’s been crushed.

Fuck.

You give Joel a glance and he’s looking back at you—though you can’t read his eye. You shake your head a bit and try to brush it off. You can feel his looks through your father’s conversation. He remains silent—just the occasional scan at Liam when his hand comes to rest on your lower back again. A flick in his jaw is the only indication he might have any emotions towards this situation.

After some small talk you attempt to pull Liam away. Your dad is way too drunk and Joel is way too brooding for you to witness any longer.

When you both walk away, you can feel Joel’s hardened gaze bore into the back of your head. It sends shivers through you.

“You know that guy?” Liam whispers when you exit.

“Yeah, he’s uh—he’s my neighbor,” you stutter.

“Thought my hand was gonna fall off,” he mutters, looking down at it.

You smile and just try to laugh it off.

You’re sitting on some lawn chairs with Liam. It's been nice catching up with him. He’s really grown up since the last time you spoke. You wanted to ghost him because he seemed immature. Like the kid you knew four years ago. But this was nice. He was more your speed now.

And he wasn’t fingering you then pushing you off him in the next instance—which was nice.

“I had a good time today,” he says, leaning back on the chair and looking to the side towards you.

“Me too. Thanks for coming,” you say, smiling back at him.

“Would you want to—like—get dinner sometime? I know you just got back but…”

That kind of throws you for a loop. Sure, talking to him at a party is one thing. Dinner—a date—is another. But when your gaze catches Joel standing behind Liam’s head—talking to some woman you don’t recognize—it’s like your mind's made up for you.

“Sure. That’d be nice,” you say. Liam gives you a smile back.

You walk him to the door after a bit more talking. Liam said he had something he had to do—you didn’t really hear much after you saw Joel talking to that lady. The kitchen area is still busy with guests—it almost seems like people are still coming in.

He gives you a kiss on the cheek as he bids you goodbye. You don’t blush. You don’t really do much of anything.

When you shut the door you let out a huff. This day has been entirely too much and you’re already tired from the thought of seeing your dad drunk again and Sarah’s hyperactive love life she still has to fill you in on.

“You dating’ him?”

You whip around to find Joel entering your space. His hands shoved in his pockets.

You scoff. He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to weave in and out of your life when it’s convenient for him.

“Just leave Joel,” you say, defeated. You don’t want to play this game with him anymore.

“Smart kid,” he notes but he doesn’t sound that genuine and you really can’t deal with this right now.

“What’s your problem?” you say, hushed, but no one seems to be paying attention to your conversation.

“I ain’t got one.”

“The handshake, Joel? C’mon,” you say, shaking your head while looking down at the ground “Fucking asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

“What’d you say?” He asks—angry.

“I said you’re a fucking asshole,” you meet his eye. That doesn’t surprise him, but you definitely surprise yourself. He looks angrier. If that’s possible.

He lets it simmer for a bit before speaking again.

“‘S none of my business.”

“Yeah. It’s not. So stop shooting daggers at him and trying to break his hand.”

“So he’s gonna be comin’ around more often?”

“Do I need your permission?”

“No. Just curious," Jesus christ. He’s making you furious.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

That makes your eyes go wide and you stare back at him in shock. How could he be throwing this back in your face after he ignored you?

“No—” you scoff “—I really don’t.”

He pauses—like he was about to say something snippy—but after hearing your response he falters. He almost looks hurt. Good. You want him to hurt as much as you were.

“Hey! There you are!” a neighbor you recognize—a younger man, Mason, accompanied by the same woman Joel was just talking to, “C’mon over—lets me get you guys a drink.”

You follow Mason, Joel follows suit. His brooding energy feels uneasy from behind you.

You and Joel come around to the empty side of the kitchen island and watch as Mason makes you both a drink. Your hand comes down to play with the hem of your dress but Joel’s standing so close to you that his fingers brush yours, you retract away.

You and Joel stand in between the kitchen counter and the island. Mason and woman opposite you on the other side of the island.

“So? School was good?” Mason asks like he’s been keeping up with you.

“Yeah! Yeah, finished up some research—I’m back for the summer but I need to get a job,” you reply sheepishly with a chuckle. He starts talking about how he went to Texas Tech, and you stop paying attention.

You peek over at Joel beside you, sipping his beer while looking at Mason talking. You doubt Joel is listening.

“Anyways! A toast! What a smart kiddo—your dad should be really proud,” Mason says while leaning over the island to meet your glass, you and Joel both do the same.

When you’re coming back from the toast, lips curling around the rim of the glass, Joel's hand lands on your lower back.

No one can see—the counter coming up to your waist, with no one nearby except for the pair standing across the counter. Joel's standing so close to your side that they don’t even bat an eye when his hand starts to drift lower.

You choke on your drink—looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“You okay sweetheart?” The woman asks.

“Yeah—y-yeah. ‘M fine,” you say through a couple of coughs.

She looks at you, then back at Joel, giving him a smile—then starts talking with Mason again.

You bite your lip to keep from bursting. You peak over at him again but he remains cool, unmoving, nodding his head every once in a while at the conversation.

Your dress is short and it rides up with his hand, moving across your backside.

You bring your cup to your lips, attempting to hide your mouth when you let out a small—

“What the hell are you doing?” under your hushed breath.

Of course, he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look your way.

You know you could just walk away. Just excuse yourself from the conversation, leaving him and this woman who obviously wants him, behind. But something deep inside you doesn’t want to. Even through all the hurt he put you through—the heartbreak. You still want him, even if this is wildly inappropriate—and you don’t know how much longer you can go before you break.

His fingers toy with the hem of your dress, eventually threatening to your panties after he hikes the dress up over his hand.

The pair in front of you are now talking about some raccoon who keeps terrorizing the neighborhood trash cans and you really couldn’t care less.

You couldn't care less when he pushes your panties to the side to nudge his fingers through your slick.

His breath hitches at the feeling of you already soaking. His pointer finger catches on your clit, and you forget how the day started.

“You sure you’re okay sweetie? You look a little pale,” she continues. God. Annoying.

“Yeah—sorry. Just a bit tired. Long d-day—” the tip of his finger pushes into you. The pair gives you a confused look and you smile back in the hopes they drop it—and they do—thank god.

“So that kid Liam, your dad said?” Mason gives you a teasing look.

“Yeah—Liam. I knew him in high school,” you try to keep your wavering voice to a minimum.

“You guys look good together. Cute couple,” the woman says and you almost choke.

Not because you and Liam are definitely not dating but because at her comment, Joel sinks a finger deep into you and you try not to conceal your whimper with a cough.

You can feel him huff and let out a small chuckle beside you.

“Oh we’re not dating, just friends,” you reply with a breathy laugh. You grip the counter so hard it might break.

“Just friends huh? Looked cozy though,” Joel quips from beside you. His tone is teasing like he’s talking to a friend. The pair in front of you laugh.

“Yeah just friends, Joel,” you try to chuckle with them but it's hard when his finger begins to pump in and out of you while a second nudges at your entrance.

The thickness of his fingers leaves you breathless while your head spins.

You can hear your dad from outside—starting to come in and you know you need to leave.

Joel hears it too, and his fingers slow.

You reach behind you when the pair isn’t looking, and carefully but quickly, pull his hand away. You almost moan at the loss of his fingers.

“Excuse me,” you look at the pair, raising your glass to them and give Joel a meet me upstairs look while you slink away quickly.

You enter the guest bedroom—you don’t want him to see the messy state of your room from unpacking.

When you shut the door, you let out a small scream—he’s driving you up the walls—and you keep coming back for more. But he needs to know you’re not just for the taking.

The door opens and shuts as you stand with your back facing it, but you know it’s Joel.

“What the fuck Joel?” you turn, exasperated, “What the fuck are you doing?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just stands there with a hand on his hip.

When he doesn’t respond you continue—“You can’t just fuck with me whenever you feel like.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ with you.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” you say, hands coming to run over your face. “Then what was that downstairs?” No response again. “Is this about Liam?”

Finally he breaks—“I don’t care about that kid.”

God, it's like pulling teeth.

“You don’t care?” you let out a breathless laugh, “Right. Okay. Really seemed like it when you almost broke his hand."

“What?” He steps closer to you, you take one back, “You want me to care?”

“No—I—Jesus, Joel.” You feel like crying, but you bite your lip instead.

He takes more steps towards you, and you take some more back. Your back hits the wall with a thud and you gasp.

“You want me to care?” he repeats his statement, a dark, husky drawl wrapping around his words. “‘Bout your little boy toy?”

You can’t find your words.

The air is different between you. It’s like he knows that no matter how hard you try, you can’t ever get away from him. That he swirls through your thoughts despite your hardest efforts.

You begin to nod your head before you know what you’re doing.

His hand comes up and runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Open,” he says while pushing his thumb into your mouth—and you do.

He eyes your mouth, taking his thumb, instinctively sucking on it as he pushes it down on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he breathes out.

He takes his thumb out of your mouth, running it over your bottom lip—then he moves—and you think he’s going to leave, but he drops down to his knees instead.

“I do care. Care quite a bit,” he mumbles into the skin of your legs as his hands roam the backs of your thighs.

He trails kisses up the inside of your legs—his nose disappearing under your dress—but his eyes stay trained on you.

He reaches up to push your dress to your stomach, and you hold it for him on instinct.

His nose rubs against your clothed cunt, placing soft kisses there—you let out a strangled moan.

“Joel…” you let out in a staggered breath.

He shakes his head like he’s trying to say don’t, and the movement rubs against your clit and your head hits the wall behind you.

Joel’s hand comes down to push your panties to the side, holding it there. You squirm when the air hits your dripping core.

He throws one of your legs over his shoulder so he can access you better. Your heel digs into his back in attempts to bring his mouth closer.

“Fuck, angel,” he says when he sees your wetness. “Always so wet.”

“Please Joel, I—” his lips come to wrap around your clit, you’re cut off with a strangled moan.

He sucks and his tongue darts out to flick your clit, then back down to taste your dripping entrance. He groans against you, and the vibrations shoot through your core.

“Fuck Joel—I—” you know this isn’t right. You asked him up here to put him in his place, but when his tongue does that on you and your orgasm is quickly approaching, you can’t seem to remember what you wanted to talk to him about, “—God. Please—”

You’re not even sure what you’re begging for. Maybe it’s your sad attempts to try and get him to stay with you.

His hand comes up between your legs. His fingers dance over your entrance, soaking it in your wetness.

The tip of his middle finger prods, but doesn’t sink in like you expect. It makes you squirm and whine nonsense to him.

“You want him, baby? You wish it was him instead?” He says when he pauses and looks up at you.

“No—no. God—I—you. Joel, want you,” you whine, and moan even louder when he pushes two fingers in at your response.

“That’s it, good girl,” he says when your walls stretch around his fingers. You feel like you might come just from the feeling of them pushing in—and you get even closer when he pumps them at a slow pace.

It feels like an apology. Like he’s on his knees begging you to forgive him. But you know him better. It’s more like he’s proving he’s gonna be the only one for you ever. Even when you have boys thinking about you 24/7, and you can’t even spare them a single thought.

“Joel—I—ah—”

His lips return back to your clit, sucking and flicking and it pushes you over the edge. He can feel you pulsing around him, whispering a soft, “fuck are you coming?” his shock, evident in his tone.

You push his head back to your clit, and he works on it, pushing you into white oblivion as you slump against the wall.

You stand there, panting, for a bit. His own breath coming hot onto your skin while he looks up at you.

When he slowly removes his fingers and lets your leg down from his shoulder, you moan quietly.

“Kiss me,” you plead, still writhing from your orgasm.

“Get back to your party,” is all he says while straightening out your dress, and leaving the room.

part iii

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gay-jesus-probably · 11 months

Text

Okay so I have a lot of thoughts about the whole thing of the Gerudo being a race of entirely women, with the only exception being one man born every hundred years, and that man automatically being their king. Now this worldbuilding comes from Ocarina of Time, and there's obviously a metric fuckton of unfortunate implications there, because it was 1998. And it seems that Tears of the Kingdom is sticking with the lore of Gerudo men being extremely rare and becoming the King of their people, which once again has a metric fuckton of unfortunate implications because it's 2023 and Nintendo has somehow gotten even worse about this shit.

But let's set aside the whole... everything, and look at this from just the in-universe perspective. How does it work? I mean, it's pretty clear that there is no overlap between the kings; the old ones are normally long gone by the time a new one is born, but the Gerudo manage to take care of themselves during the hangtime. So they must have an established system of government and leadership that doesn't involve a king, and somehow that system is set up in a way that does a smooth transfer of power once a new king is born and old enough to take the throne. But why bother always declaring a random guy to be your King when you already have a perfectly functional system in place?

I mean again, the whole thing has a lot of sexist implications, but we're not looking at this from a real world context, we're examining it in-universe. And we could just go the lazy route and say that their king is in charge just because he's the only man, but I don't like that. I mean come on, the Gerudo are a race of entirely women, and most of their outside problems come from Hylian men being creepy about it. They are entirely a matriarchy; there is literally no reason for their culture to have an inherent respect for men, even if the man in question is one of them. And they're desert people; they live in an extremely harsh and dangerous landscape, if they don't have their shit together, they will die. By sheer necessity, their culture needs to put a lot of value in being practical, because if they're stupid about things, people die. They really can't afford to have a shitty leader take over, and just letting some guy take the wheel doesn't really fit with the way their culture must otherwise work.

So again, why the fuck do they bother having a King?

I think it's mainly just a ceremonial position. Yes, if the guy is a good leader he'll be in charge, but if he isn't good at being a King or isn't interested in the job... fuck it, they've already got a functional government system that's been leading their people the whole time, why fix what isn't broken? The title of Gerudo King isn't about leadership or power. I think it's more about belonging. Because the Gerudo are a culture where every single one of them can be defined in the same way... and there is exactly one exception once a century. Men are considered to be inherently outsiders at the best of times, and more often they're enemies. A man born into this culture is a natural outsider; he is completely unique, and that means he doesn't really fit into his community. And well... when someone is fundamentally different from the rest of their community, they tend to be ostracized.

So I think that's why the position of Gerudo King exists. It isn't about them needing or even wanting a man to lead them. The title of King doesn't need to involve any leadership at all. It's about giving the man born every century a place in their society. It's a way of saying yes, you are one of us, you are a Gerudo, you belong here, you are wanted and you are loved.

The Gerudo know that every hundred years, one of their children will be fundamentally different from all of his peers. And so their society is built to ensure that a child who is completely different from them will still be loved and accepted. He will always have a place in their society. He doesn't need to earn their love, he has it just for existing. These are his people.

The title of Gerudo King isn't an inherent position of authority. It's a promise of acceptance.

#legend of zelda #ganondorf #tears of the kingdom #gerudo #look i have so many thoughts about how their society works #and for the record i really hate the implied bioessentialist gender stuff #but this is my headcanon on the whole gerudo king thing #if their king wants authority he still needs to earn it like everyone else #but they make sure he always has a place among his people #look growing up Different from your peers is a fucking nightmare #as any neurodivergent/disabled/queer kid can attest #i like the idea of gerudo society being structured around ensuring all their children felt like they belonged there #and having a system ready to go for the one kid they KNOW will be the most different

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eclipse-colony · 3 months

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A Note to the autistic community.

One of the things that we absolutely do not need is low needs autistics shaming or blaming high needs autistics for the infantilization or ableism that we experience.

I just saw a TikTok of a high needs autistic creator stimming and sharing how they were very excited to watch bluey for their nye celebration. I thought the video was wholesome but the comments disagreed.

People were telling them that they were ruining/setting the community back, that they made them embarrassed to be autistic, that they are the reason for infantilization of autistic people, that they were the the reason people are ableist forwards all people with autism, and fakeclaiming them.

There is already a lot of discrimination towards autistic people, what we don’t need is infighting in the community. We need to stick together and not attack others for things they can’t control.

#autism #neurodivergent

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