when people try to debunk the “lumps people w their oppressors” argument they always miss the fact that we’re discussing certain specific axes of oppression lol
like the reason “monosexual” is not an ok term but “cis” is an ok and very useful term is because the word “monosexual” groups gay and straight people together with the implication that they have power over mga people, on the axis of sexuality. people who are oppressed for their sexuality (lesbians and gay people in this case) cannot oppress others (mga people) for their sexuality.
cis doesn’t do this because sure it also groups some gay and straight people together, but the word cisgender discusses the axis of gender. people who are oppressed for their sexuality CAN oppress others for their gender.
in other words, terms that try to group oppressed people w their oppressors and imply that people oppressed for a certain trait can oppress OTHERS based on that same trait are not ok.
words that discuss one axis of oppression and happen to group oppressed people with their oppressors on DIFFERENT axes are fine.
so it’s not that all terms that group people with their oppressors are bad, it’s that terms that attribute power and oppressor status to groups who are already oppressed for that same trait are bad.
~Thanks for the support, Chief~. I hope you like the way this turned out, Anon. (^_^)v
He entered the foyer, took off his leather gloves and
loosened his tie but only when he was halfway over to the living room did he
remember he still had one thing left to do now that he was home.
“I’m home.” He called out quietly.
It went against every instinct he had as a hitman but it was
the only thing you requested of him when you agreed to marry him and damned if he was going to make you
unhappy because he can’t even do something as simple as this.
He heard your footsteps approach and he waited, already
feeling that calm in his soul you always seem to inspire in him whenever you
were around. As soon as you saw him his breath caught in his throat at the way
your eyes skimmed his form as though looking for some injury.
He had suspected you knew what he did for a living for a while now. He should have known it would be impossible for him to hide such things from you. You have always seen right though him. But he didn’t have the strength to test your love for him at the moment. Not when he could come home to you like this every night. So he pretended to not have noticed; and you pretended to be ignorant. The Mafia an unspoken secret between you both.
Silently he walked toward
you to quietly show you he was alright. You fell limp as he placed his arms
around you and the both of you inhaled deeply of each other’s scent.
“Welcome home.” You greeted him quietly as you burrowed
deeply in his arms.
Reborn couldn’t help but try to swallow the lump in his
throat as he held you closer, his heart beating a mile a minute. The emotions
you make him feel whenever you acted like this…
It was another thing he needed
to get used to. His heart felt too full whenever he held you like this
especially after a hit. It sometimes felt as though his heart was going to
burst by how full it was with all the emotions you gave him. You are a comfort to
him. A cleansing blessing from the sins he had bathed himself with the moment
he stepped outside this house where you made him whole.
“Have you eaten yet?” you asked quietly, still unable to let
“No,” he replied, kissing your temple gently, running his
fingers through your hair and relishing the feel of it. “Let’s just go to bed.”
He watched as the prisoner writhed and drooled at the literal
mental torture Mukuro was putting him through. The man was a rat. He had caused
the death of several people under the Vongola’s protection. Tsunayoshi had
wanted the man to suffer while spilling all his secrets and called Mukuro in to do the job.
Mukuro smirked coldly and decided he would give the man five more minutes
before he started questioning him again to see if there were any more rats like him littering within the Vongola.
Suddenly he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. His eyes
widened at the name on the caller id and quickly sealed the man’s lips to shut
him up without breaking the torture before he answered the phone.
“Darling?” he purred into the phone. “Is everything alright?”
You smiled on the other line while looking into the fridge. “Hi,
honey. I was just wondering if you can make it to dinner tonight.”
Mukuro shot an annoyed glare at the writhing man in front
of him before answering you. “Perhaps. I’m a little tied up at the moment.”
“Your boss is sure keeping you busy, huh? Is everything alright
with the company?” you replied innocently, taking out a few ingredients out to
the marble island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Just a few minor problems with the product launching,” he
lied smoothly. He had decided long ago that he was not going to involve you in
the dark business of the Mafia. “It’s nothing big but it involves a lot of
“My poor baby,” you tease him over the phone making him
grin in delight. “Want me to bring you dinner? I’m making your favorite. I’ll
even bring dessert.”
Mukuro felt his mouth water at the salacious innuendo from
the offered treat. Sadly, he was going to be down here in the ‘basement’ for a
little while longer. “Darling, stop distracting me.”
You laughed so sweetly on the other line that Mukuro couldn’t
help but smile too. His heart feeling like it was made of cotton every time he
heard that beautiful sound coming from you.
“Fine. Just in case you come home tonight I’ll keep some
leftovers in the fridge. Don’t overwork, okay?”
“I love you.”
Mukuro had to swallow the lump in his throat as his breath
caught at the words. His mind briefly wondering how on earth he became so lucky
as he responded a little hoarsely. “I love you.”
As soon as he hung up the phone he removed the illusion
stopping his captive from making any more noises. It annoyed him now that he
had to spend time with this stubborn creature when he could have been at home,
having dinner and making love to his sweet wife.
“Alright now,” he finally stopped the illusion scrambling
the man’s brains and the prisoner panted as he glared at the blue haired Mist
user. “I’m still being generous. You can make this easy for the both of us if
you tell me what I want to know.”
The prisoner responded by spitting at Mukuro’s shoes. The
same shoes you had painstakingly cleaned and worked to a shine this morning before you yourself had gone off to work.
The smile on the illusionist’s face turned from cold to absolutely sadistic. It
made the man want to puke out his intestines in terror.
“Very well,” Mukuro sat back in his chair, legs crossed and
arms relaxed in the chair’s arms. “Have it your way then.”
Xanxus dismissed your hidden bodyguards with a jerk of his head when he picked you up from the office that evening. Said bodyguard for the day rejoined his officers on a distant rooftop, carefully eyeing the perimeter as he picked you up from the building’s lobby.
“Really, Xanxus, you’re being weird. What is this all about?”
He said nothing as he led you into the sitting room. He had
it all planned out today.
He picked you up from work and then took you out to eat at your favorite
restaurant. Never mind that it was just an average diner that luckily had
private booths for customers who wanted some privacy and served a mean combo of chicken wings and fries.
He held you close as the both of you walked home together, trusting that Squalo
and his men would keep any problems at bay.
And now this.
He was pretty sure you were going to like it but he still
couldn’t help the little knot in his stomach as he led you into the room where
he showed you a nice, comfortable chair within touching distance from his own.
Your gasp of pleasure and the naked delight on your face made
his heart want to fly up into the air and dance. Not that he was going to admit
that to anyone of course.
“Oh, Xanxus…” you approached the chair and ran your delicate
fingers over it as though it was made of glass. “You remembered…!”
“Hn,” he grunted as he crossed his arms over his chest,
watching you sit in the chair and hug a cushioned arm as though it were a
stuffed toy. “I was sick of you mourning over that stupid chair.”
“Hey!” you pouted up at him. “I loved that chair!”
“It was butt ugly and smelled like Levi’s feet. It belonged
to the trash.”
“A~HA! So you did burn it up on purpose!”
Xanxus gave you a stubborn scowl. “I should get a goddamn
medal for burning that piece of shit up.”
You sigh as you leaned back against the comfortable chair.
It was hard getting mad when you feel as though you were sitting on a cloud. So
you gave up. “Xanxus, honey? I would argue that you had no sentimentality if you hadn’t just gotten me this perfect, perfect present.
His lip twitched into a semblance of a smile before walking
over to his chair; his long legs knocking with yours as he did so. “Yeah.”
Your smile turned sweet and loving and Xanxus couldn’t stop himself
from staring. He wondered if he would
ever get tired of staring at you.
“Now then, speaking of presents, I guess it’s my turn now,” and then your smile
turned wicked as you stood up and―much to Xanxus’ surprise and excitement―
started slowly, sensuously take your dress off revealing a delicious set of new
lingerie exclusively for his eyes to see. “Happy anniversary, my love…”
The life they’d lived in The Framework was so very different from reality.
Daisy imagined this must be what it was like to be born; torn out of a warm, safe haven to face a cold unfamiliar world. Blinking, she grimaced, her vision blurred and dim. Her senses were slow to awaken. She felt deft fingers tug the restraints from her body, taking away the only thing keeping her upright, she swayed. Strong hands held her steady as she crumpled softly onto the ground. There was a pinch at her inner elbow as the IV was removed, leaving her arm aching heavily. Slowly her sight began to return as she blinked, she turned away from the bright lights up above to shield her sensitive eyes.
“What happened?” She attempted to say, but what came out was little more than a croak.
“Here. Have some water.” A kind, earnest, familiar voice ordered, opening a water bottle under her nose. Daisy knew that voice, she just… didn’t have a face or a name.
Looking up Daisy regarded the face of the kind not-stranger, freckled and sweet with doe-eyes that shone with knowledge.
Daisy took a sip of the water, wetting her throat so she could speak. “Who…?” She managed.
“Daisy?” Jemma Simmons’ face fell. “You don’t remember me? I’m Jemma… Jemma Simmons. We’re… old friends.”
Then, Daisy saw them, in her mind’s eye, memories of a life she recognised as her own, yet it was all foreign. She and Jemma have a shared history. This woman is like a sister to her.
“Jemma. Yes.” Daisy muttered.
But… that wasn’t possible. She remembers so vividly her life, and she had never met this woman before. Daisy tried to think straight, and found only duplicity. Her most recent birthday, she could see it, sat in the kitchen at home while her mother and grandmother squabbled over the best way to make Bao Buns, her grandfather quietly reading his newspaper. She’d felt so… complete. Then, she saw another scene, brick walls and dim lighting, a sparsely iced cake with a single candle. A crowd gathered around her singing as loudly as possible. The woman, Jemma, she was there, she’d said, ‘Happy Birthday, Daisy.’ It had been the best birthday ever.
“I don’t…” Daisy gritted her teeth.
“May. Hey, May.”
Daisy’s head snapped round to face the equally strangely familiar man who’d uttered her name. But, he wasn’t talking to her. Slumped in his arms was the limp form of Melinda May.
“Fitz, we need to scan her brain, now. She’s been in there so long, she could have permanent damage.” Simmons scooted over to take a closer look at May.
Daisy’s breath was ragged now, her throat dry once again as she muttered softly, “Mom…?”
every cis person i ever met:
hum... is that... your real name??? are you sure???!! did your parents name you this way???!!????? i, as a Great Specialist With Extended Knowledge And Absolute Neutral Scientific Objectivity Who Met You Three Minutes Ago, am sure i know your Real Name™ better than you do, so you owe me the Truth™ about your name!!!!!!!!!!!!!1