My Fit for Ghouls Ball St. Louis! Sorry I never updated you guys! I ended getting really sick the night before so was asleep most of the day before Ghouls ball. I was passing out prints (when I remembered to) and having a blast with people I had always wanted to meet irl. What a dream that night was!
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Two Spirit is an umbrella term coined relatively recently, encompassing unique gender identities and sexualities within the diverse cultures of the thousands of tribal nations across the so-called USA and Canada. Two Spirit exists beyond colonial concepts of what gender is. Not every queer native is Two Spirit, and not every Two Spirit native is queer.
Deconstructing gender starts with understanding that western concepts of what is male and female are colonial and bigoted. For indigenous peoples across turtle island, those we consider trans/queer today were honored community members.
There are no closets in tipis. Happy pride to all of my fellow 2spirited natives who have had to fight to justify who they are to colonized minds who seek to place us into their own gender/sexuality boxes.
((No, Two-Spirit is not comparable to being nonbinary or bigender or anything else. Those labels exist with ideas of colonial gender norms in mind.))
You know, when I've remarked that a lot of the responses to my posts feel like people are just plucking out keywords they think they recognise based on the shape of them and replying to what they imagine the post says based on that, the possibility never occurred to me that this is actually how many American schools are currently teaching kids to read.
Like, my assumption this whole time has been that when folks go "I misunderstood this post that says [thing] as saying [unrelated thing] because I mistook [word] for [completely different word that happens to start with the same letter]", that was a bit. What do you mean they're teaching kids a reading method that's tailored to produce this exact error?
one thing I like about Tumblr is, in 2019 I reblogged a piece of art from 2017 of a book written in 2015 and Yesterday in 2022 someone liked it, and this is how this website is supposed to work, I have art made this week in my queue next to stuff from 2014, 2013, 2012, hell even 2011, sometimes I post 10-11 year old fan art from accounts that haven't been active since before One Direction broke up. Nothing is ever truly dead and gone on here, you can always dust off an old treasure and say "hey gang look at this!" other social media isn't set up like that, if you wonder why it feels like The Batman was released 100 years ago, its because corporate media wants you to move on! go to the NEW THING! BUY! etc but hey guess what I have fan art of Battinson being emo in my queue. So if you're a fan artist, writer, gif maker, or just fan who wants to gush, guess what, here, here we're still spreading around old art, gif sets and someone will be happy you made something new in the tag
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“I can’t stop wondering what it would be like to kiss you.”
There’s something about the way Perpetua’s thigh feels pressed up against you while sitting on the couch together. You watch his hands nervously trail the fabric of his pants, fingers edging ever so closer and closer to you. You try to ignore the feeling of his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head, try to pretend you don’t notice the knots and twists in your stomach.
So much for trying to stay just friends, right?
“You know we can’t. We shouldn’t.” The words leave your lips, and you’re not even convinced of the intention behind them. “If we do this, and it doesn’t work out, I can’t bear the thought of losing my best friend.”
Perpetua’s hand finds itself home, home onto the gentle curve of your cheek, caressed and cupped onto your warmth. It’s only then that you find the courage to meet his eyes, to the intensity and familiarity behind them. You watch as his tongue ever so slightly flickers over his bottom lip. You know he’s everything. He makes it so hard to want to be responsible.
“If we don’t do this, I’m going to spend my whole life regretting the fact that we didn’t.”
The countless nights you’d spent dreaming about how his lips would feel against yours. About what it would feel like to feel his breath hot against you, to become familiar with his taste. How hard it was to push those thoughts out of your mind. You couldn’t want him. But right now he holds your face as if you were made of something precious, like if he were to make one wrong move, he might break you. Your gaze softens, finding the courage to nod your head, giving him permission to move in on you.
A thumb brushes softly and sweetly over your lips, tracing over the delicate contour. And then his lips are on yours. And oh, do they ever feel like home. He’s sweet and he’s soft, and he feels like everything you have ever wanted. Everything you have ever needed. Perpetua’s other hand reaches over and tugs on your waist, encouraging you to straddle over his lap. When he pulls away from the kiss, you find your heart melting at the sight of pink peeking through the lipstick on his mouth. A reminder that he is just a man.
He gazes at you, and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, your name escapes his lips almost inaudibly. He speaks it so beautifully, and you find yourself only wanting him to be the one to say it out loud from now on. You want it to belong to him.
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And I don't just mean "oh, my little work mistake is actually nothing compared to a fiery crash that kills people," either. The reason commercial flight is so many orders of magnitude safer than any other form of transportation is because after every accident and incident, an independent regulatory body investigated it with the express goal of figuring out exactly what happened, why, and how to prevent the same thing from ever happening again—not to root out which person deserved the blame or the liability.
It's a simple, shockingly effective idea. It's also worlds away from how most people approach their own mistakes and the mistakes of others.
Because it’s never just one person’s fault. And even when it is, it still isn’t.
The sharpest, best-trained pilots make worse decisions when they're tired or sick or stressed out, so there's two of them. The most dedicated and experienced air traffic controllers garble an instruction over the radio sometimes, so pilots are trained to always repeat clearances back to catch misunderstandings quickly. The best and brightest maintenance mechanic still overlooks a screw or misconnects a wire once or twice in her career, so aircraft systems are built with two or three or four layers of redundancy, and pilots are exhaustively trained to deal with failures safely.
Everyone eventually has a bad day. Every component breaks down. Every computer gets a bad a Windows update and spirals into a reboot doom loop. If it’s possible for one person’s mistake to domino into a mushroom cloud of a fuckup, then that task is too critical to be one person's sole responsibility. The accident sequence starts with the design of the system—so how do you improve the system to keep it from happening again?
oh yeah. The “modern commercial aviation is the safest form of transport” thing only applies to planes, btw. A helicopter is a beautiful metal horse that wants to break its legs and die so so so badly
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