about me: apollo/scribble | 21 y/o | they/he | adhd&autistic
important links: about me | carrd | masterlist | request tings
currently doing: your mother
current hyperfixation: Fantasy High by Dimension 20
current stim song(s): baggage by the rare americans, the gold by phoebe bridgers, our word from 36 questions the musical, and good luck babe! by chappell roan
if you decide to become a police officer then that outweighs any other marginalised identity you can rustle up like. not sorry, who asked you to willingly become a pig
I have heard of black people warning their kids that the race of a police officer is cop and you should not expect solidarity from them. The same applies to other types of minorities.
The sexuality of a police officer is cop.
The gender of a police officer is cop.
When you become the enforcer and protector of capital, you are making the deal to be slightly favored by the system over others like you, in exchange for being its servant. Your solidarity is with the system that you serve, even if it hates you.
If you want solidarity with those the system hates, you cannot be the system's servant and defender.
Fucks me up to think about how trans men’s rights to things like education, voting, employment, etc. are all dependent on cis women having the same rights but trans men’s rights to healthcare access (including gender affirming care and gynecological/reproductive care), protection from abuse (aka access to shelters for DV victims), or even basic inclusion in activism, legal protections, and even fucking language, are not even a little bit cis women’s problem despite cis women often seeing us asking for these things as somehow an attack on them.
I can vote in favor of legalizing abortion. That’s awesome. But they can easily write the law in such a way that only if you’re legally female do you get to have access to abortion. Meaning trans men who legally changed their gender marker can be denied. Or if they aren’t then insurance companies can decide not to cover it because of the aforementioned gender marker while they would have no problem providing coverage for a cis woman. And when trans men try to draw attention to this and beg to be included so that we can have the same rights as cis women, we’re making a women’s issue about men and we’re raging misogynists and gender traitors and TMRAs. Because god forbid we consider that maybe a man might need an abortion too.
synopsis: as you and sylus get older, thrills look a little different
tags: LADS, lads fluff, sylus x reader, older!sylus/you
content warnings: teen+, suggestive fluff, brief language
word count: 685 (drabble)
note: submission for @aliciascanvas sylus’s birthday week prompts- april 16th: THRILL
the thrill of kissing him never got old.Â
after fighting wanderers, facing death, and crossing deepspace to find each other, nothing compared to the feeling of being in his arms.Â
so many years had passed. so many memories had been made. but each new one you created with him still became your favorite.Â
a soft laugh slipped through your smiling lips when you parted. your palms smoothed against his chest as you gazed at him affectionately.Â
the years had been kind to him, of course. but you loved the way faint lines now traced the corners of his eyes and his mouth.Â
signs of someone who smiled often. Â
“what is it, sweetie?” he raised a quizzical brow, hands tightening around your waist.
“I…” you glanced over his broad shoulder, double checking to make sure no one was watching.
“don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me after all these years, kitten,” he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your neck.Â
“my back hurts…” you finally confessed before looking away, a bit ashamed.Â
and it was probably because he had sat you up on the balcony while kissing you. and probably because the balcony was made of stone. and probably because you weren’t as young as you used to be, so it was a little uncomfortable.Â
but you didn’t want to admit that.Â
tenderly, he grabbed your chin and turned your face back to his. he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear as a warm smile bloomed on his face.Â
“kitten…” he started, words trailing off as he contemplated whether or not he should continue.
“I’m freezing,” he finally admitted with a laugh, “… and my shoulder is acting up.”
“the one you injured that time on the motorcycle?”Â
he nodded, helping you down as you both chuckled at the memory.Â
“we really did it anywhere back then,” you shook your head, hand smoothing over the aforementioned shoulder, “what were we thinking?”
“that we wanted someone to see us fucking on a motorcycle.”
you both burst into laughter.
“right, and you weren’t secretly hoping for some voyeur to catch us on the balcony this time either, sy?” you waved a finger in his face.Â
he gave you that signature, all-knowing smirk.Â
“this time… that time on the windowsill, those multiple times at auctions-“Â
you smacked his chest to cut him off.Â
“alright! alright… gosh, we were really chasing thrills back then, weren’t we?”Â
he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“I still am.”Â
your heart warmed. how did he still manage to make you melt after all this time together?Â
“yeah, but… sometimes I feel like we’re not as adventurous as we used to be.”
his brows furrowed.Â
“beloved, when I say I’m still chasing thrills, I mean like this…”
strong arms pulled you into his embrace. the sound of two heartbeats filled your ears as you were pressed close together.Â
“… holding you, just like this, will forever be the greatest thrill I’ve ever experienced.” Â
you pulled back to meet his gaze.Â
“greater than doing it on the balcony?”Â
he let out a laugh that rumbled through his chest.Â
“our warm, comfortable bed sounds even more thrilling than that, if I’m being honest.”
“the bed? after all these years? doesn’t that seem boring-“
he took your hand and started leading you back into the house.Â
“a nice hot shower after, a cup of tea, and our favorite show has a new episode to watch…”Â
he stopped in front of your bedroom door, turning to wink at you.Â
“… and we can be asleep by 9.”Â
your eyes widened at him.Â
“mr. qin, you’ve never been sexier than right now.”Â
he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, tapping his temple as he smiled down at you.Â
then you were being swept off your feet- literally.Â
turning the handle of the door, he kicked it open, carrying you with one arm like he’d always done.Â
“don’t get used to it, mrs. qin,” he plopped you onto the bed.
“I’ll never be done chasing thrills as long as I’m with you.”
queers who unironically hate on furries and kinksters are funny as hell. like awh what's that buddy? you base your moral judgements on your petty disgust rather than intrinsic harm? awh...
The thing about The Pitt is that every character is nuanced and contains both good and bad within them and you have to see everything in shades of gray...
...except for Dana Evans, who has done nothing wrong ever in her life and I will break the nose of anyone who says otherwise.
It cracks me up that Joy Kwon, an American Korean who Western media loves to slot into that duty‑driven overachiever and tireless‑workhorse stereotype, be the one to triumphantly claim her right to clock off on time.
Legend. Unionise that floor, diva.
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