conservatives have fully lost the plot its actually extremely normal for little kids to pretend to be animals. it's a pretty essential part of their mental development and helps them practice creative skills actually. if a kid comes up to you and says "I'm a kitty cat" you don't need to reality check them. it's fine actually. the correct response is to say "are you? have you caught any mice today? what kind of kitty cat? do you have orange stripes? should we have tuna salad for lunch?"
take this for the next time you’re sick 🪴
im richettepilled
Transmasc vampire but instead of blood he sucks out testosterone from men like they’re slushies
so i was wondering. in castlevania, the existence of vampires is common knowledge. so... how tf does people not freak out when they see alucard? because in nocturne he's aggressively inhuman. my man is paler than a paper sheet and his cute lil fangies peek when he speaks. how was he walking around paris in broad daylight and no one was calling the cops on him?
Hey so apparently the Trump administration is trying to include Natives in his unconstitutional birthright citizenship end order. They haven't been non citizens since 1924. He trying to fucking reverse the Snyder Act.
A lot, if not all, of his plans impact natives in some way. Remember to keep advocating for native rights.
If it’s okay to request, may I request hcs or something with Viktor where he’s dating an autisc reader?
Okay, first of - I have no idea what I have done to be granted such trust, thank you so much Anon! I have been provided amazing advice from @rennethen while writing this and done some research and I hope, I hope, I hope it meets expectations.
ViktorXAutistic!Reader HeadCannons
viktorxgn!reader mature, fluff and again: Viktor setting impossible standards for real-life men
author’s note: I have decided to not include tics, as they come in so many variations and I didn't want to impose anything upon Readers, but I can imagine Viktor being a total sweetheart about them.
word count: 1,4K
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Since your first meeting, Viktor has been smitten with your bluntness and your ability to take his acrimonious jokes apart without a hint of incredulity in your voice. The way you keep asking subsidiary questions until you dig through the layers of his sass to the actual thing he meant to say leaves his soul naked as day, every single time. Finally, an inquisitive mind, he thinks to himself, as you go for the killing blow:
“So, what you’ve meant to say is that you find me attractive?”
“Eh, I suppose that is what I meant,” he admits dumbly, scratching the back of his neck. “Though usually I tend to be a little bit less straight forward.”
“I prefer straight forward,” you tell him with wide eyes.
“I… I shall remember that.”
Viktor soon realises that being asked a lot of questions makes him blush in a funny way and his chest gets all fuzzy. So, he begins to share every little aspect of his work with you. The more questions you ask, the warmer his heart gets and somehow the way you get excited about his ideas is worth more than any other academical pat on the back he ever received.
Before asking you out for the first time, Viktor conducts a thorough research, not very different to the ones he conducts for the sake of a thesis. He finds out what are your favourite places and favourite spots to sit. He books two reservations, just in case.
He does the same thing when you try out a new place. Just in case. It has proven useful only once.
As a man who values routine, he finds it absolutely endearing that good things remain in your orbit for a long time and discovers that being greeted with his own name by the barista is actually a nice little feeling.
When he asked you if he could kiss you for the first time, he held his breath while you were reconsidering. He found it hard not to laugh stupidly and nod his head a couple times too many when you responded with the same question.
He cupped your face and brushed his thumb on your lip tentatively. At first, he just rubbed his nose against yours. Then, his cheek, as he pulled you closer. You decided his hair smelled nice and that he could proceed. You didn’t know what to do with your hands at first, because he was wearing an incredibly itchy jumper, so you settled on his neck, and he took it as an invitation to kiss you deeper.
When you told him about it he gave the jumper to Caitlyn, and even though the sleeves are not long enough for her, she wears it often. Gradually, Viktor is in the process of exchanging his wardrobe to touch-friendly materials, currently he is half-way through. He wears the offensive clothes to meetings with Jayce, because Jayce will hug even a hedgehog.
You teach Viktor the value of comfort, not just in the clothing department. Suddenly he finds that his blankets are softer and that his flat increased the base number of cushions.
He religiously cuts the tags out of your clothes and his work is so precise it’s as if the tag was never there in the first place.
Viktor will still periodically ask for a permission to touch you, only to hear “Yes, please.” And it still makes him blush.
He keeps two notebooks—one on your current food fixations. He writes down a start date of each and marks every little alteration. He examines the lifecycle of each dish, as you eat it every day for a month and suddenly stop, to move on to the next one. On the back of the notebook he has a list of old reliables.
The second notebook, he treats more seriously—it’s a journal of stimming. He makes a note of each gesture in order to recognize your emotions better. After a while he is able to tell if you are feeling overwhelmed, just excited or trying to concentrate.
He is completely bemused by the fact that you always know what entered the bowl first—the cereal or the milk.
When you unconsciously repeat words back at him in his accent he makes it intentionally heavier, because he finds in unbearably cute.
After some time, he’s learned to recognise when you are masking. When it happened for the first time, he allowed himself a pinch of panic. Only when you unravelled at home, he sighed, partially relieved, and made a note of it in his journal.
Viktor carries a pair of noise cancelling headphones when you go out together. He puts them on you if you get overstimulated and presents you with something else to shift your focus into—a tight hug, a smell or he presses gently on your shoulders to steady you.
If you happen to have a meltdown at either of your homes, he wordlessly prepares you your favourite food and stays close enough for you to reach. Sometimes, he does a full body scan with you, to see which part requires the most attention.
There are certain sounds that Viktor makes which you particularly like—the click of his tongue, the intercepting ‘ehs’ and ‘ahs’—and once he connects the dots between him making those and a smile that always blooms on your face, he produces as many as he can, while still sounding natural.
He enjoys just existing with you. Sitting in the same room, while he works, and you read is his definition of a happy place. Just glancing over to you, your tongue filling your cheek as you read something particularly interesting, the small sounds you make at turning points in the story make his heart flutter.
He finds himself involuntarily memorizing the lyrics of the songs you play on repeat. He has no idea who the artist are, but he knows their songs by heart now. It makes him feel old, in a funny way.
It completely disarms him, when you return his gifts. After three futile attempts to give you something of popular romantic demand, he scolded himself for not changing the method soon enough. Instead of jewellery, he encourages your special interests, through getting you books on the topics or taking you places that embody your passions.
On the other side of the coin, your gifts are deeply appreciated. Every little pebbling trinket has it’s special place in the box on his desk. He takes them out periodically and counts how many times a tiny detail in the chaos of the outside world has made you think of him.
For dates, Viktor chooses times and days in which the world is less crowded. Instead of a busy Saturday night, you go out in the middle of the week. After a particularly failed attempt of gifting you perfume, Viktor takes you to a balm perfume workshop, where you can make scents for each other that are buildable and unoffensive to sensitive skin.
He’s built an intimacy with you that is based on trust and constant checking. He takes care of the mood and gives you enough stops to reconsider on the way.
You both talk a lot during sex. A change of mind is natural and there is enough space made for it. He has learned a lot about himself, and his self-esteem strengthened, when he realised that, ‘I don’t like it,’ doesn’t mean ‘I don’t like you.’
If, for whatever reason, the communication turns nonverbal, you both have come up with a system of pats that signals where each of you should direct your attention.
Your inquisitive mind helped him find three additional positions, in which he feels comfortable and painless, and it eludes him entirely how he could have missed them.
Viktor’s favourite part of aftercare is cuddling you naked. He adores the way your warm body melts into his. If you add head scratches to it, he will fall asleep in your arms. He breaths in the smell of your hair and his heart beat evens out with yours.
Keep your messaging simple:
“Trump fired everyone in charge of airplane safety, and a week later planes started crashing into each other.”
That’s it. That’s the messaging. Don’t get bogged down disputing Trump’s false claims. Just blame him, in short and repeatable sentences.
it really is crazy how quickly people were willing to just let chatgpt do everything for them. i have never even tried it. brother i don't even know if it's just a website you go to or what. i do not know where chatgpt actually lives, because i can decide my own grocery list.
In 2021, my country debated on a law to open medically assisted procreation to women couples and single mothers. When it was debated we asked for it to broaden the conditions to include trans men and transmascs since the only mention of women excluded whose who had changed their gender markers.
We were consistently told by cis and trans women alike to stop making reproductive rights about men, that it was their fight.
The law passed. And we celebrated, and they celebrated, and we held back tears, we'd never be fathers.
In 2024, my country debated on putting abortion in the constitution.
The minister of families received 2 renowned TERFs and tried to change the law go forbid professionnals to refuse an abortion to "women", so trans men whose gender markers were changed could be denied. And we fought, and we fought for the definition to be changed and we won, and we celebrated in
Deafening silence.
“If men could be pregnant it’d be in the constitution already !”
If only you knew.
After I got assaulted, I wanted to take a self defense lesson.
They were “cis and trans women only”, because a man like me shouldn't know how to hit. I went to the gym and I punched a dummy until my knuckles turned purple.
I got a sleep exam. Under anesthesia, the doctor asked me if he should say “sir or ma’am”. I’m tied up on the bed. I asked him to say “sir”. He tells me “I guessed so, you’re such a pretty boy” and he stroke my arm. I want to scream and cry. When I recall the scene to people I'm stealth with, they say I just dreamed, he wouldn't do that, I'm a man. I'm a hysterical woman with extra steps.
I catter to my wounds alone and I wonder
If I got to the point of being hatecrimed
If people would argue on my grave
For it to be called
A feminicide.
The most anxious being on the planet :) some kind of vampire prince 19 ★he/him★trans:3 I reblog silly things sometimes so maybe avert our eyes if you're a child
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