everything men need to know about women

The men who claim we “don’t need feminism” because “men have it worse” and their “proof” is that men are forced to pay on dates?

Men. Stop.

You are NOT forced to pay for dates.

You know why that’s “traditional”? Because until fairly recently in our history women couldn’t have a fucking bank account, so we sort of sat there left without a damn choice, if we were making any kind of money anyway.

These days, less of an issue. Women can, and do, pay for dates. If you’re only dating women who are financially stable but INSIST it’s your “job” to pay, there’s no one forcing you to stay with her. Plenty of women ENJOY paying either their half or for the whole damn meal.

And more often than not, you know who has a problem here? INSECURE MEN. Men who want to pay for everything because when a woman pays he feels emasculated and he whines about her not “needing” him enough.

That’s a load of bullshit.

The only reason MY partners frequently pay for dates is because my disability percentage is laughably low and I’m not always able to consistently make comics and commissions to pay the bills, much less pay for dates. But when I DO have the extra money? You’re damn right I handle the check or at least go dutch and THEY’RE OKAY WITH IT because their masculinity isn’t tied into “taking care of their frail lady-folk”.

So oh my GOD shut up. There’s no LAW forcing you to pay for a date. If you can’t or don’t want to pay, be upfront about it before the date. If she throws a fit and says it’s your job as a man to pay for her, JUST DON’T GO ON THE DAMN DATE.

This is not that fucking difficult.

(Oh and if anyone mocks you because a woman pays for your date or pays her own half, they can fuck right off too because they’re sexist little asswipes and you don’t need that shit)

I am bisexual,
and that doesn’t mean
that I’m confused;
I think, no, I know
that I know more about my own
personal sexual attraction than a
perfect stranger who’s convinced
they need to define me
by their own standards.
I am bisexual
and that does not mean
I am compelled by greed
to have everything,
snatching it up with my grubby fingers;
I do not have a tally-mark on my back
of the people I have slept with,
I do not keep score,
it is not my goal to gobble up
attention from both men and women
when I meet them,
it is simply a matter
of who I am attracted to.
I am bisexual
and that does not make me easy;
I am not bound with loosely-tied shoestrings
falling open at the seams,
I do not bat my eyelashes at
every person walking by to
lure them into my bed,
I am not a set of revolving doors that
just anyone can take a spin in.
I am bisexual
and that does not mean
I do not have standards,
nor am I looking for attention.
I didn’t realize my life was a stage
meant for your entertainment anyway,
but let me make up my face
and play a role for you
if that’s what you expect of me,
or wear a mask
whenever I am with my partner of choice
because regardless of their gender,
you will erase me
based on that alone.
If I’m with a man,
you will call me straight;
if I’m with a woman,
clearly I’m a lesbian.
It’s one or the other, but no,
I am still bisexual
because the person I’ve chosen to be with
does not negate
what my sexual orientation means.
I am bisexual
and it does not mean
that I require your approval
but I do require that you acknowledge
that I am real,
that I exist,
that my sexuality is valid,
that I am a bisexual human being
who knows what she wants
and what she likes
and it doesn’t have to fit into
your standard definitions of what a sexuality
is supposed to be.
I know that my mind and heart
are as clear as a glass vase
holding my attraction within it,
a swirling mix of colors that are
just as real as your own identity,
so why would you deny me mine?
This vase will not become a glass prison
that I one day outgrow,
shattering around me,
and suddenly I will see the light
I was evidently blind to.
I will not dismiss this term
I slap proudly upon my chest
in my later days as a “phase”
because it is just a part of me
as my hair color,
my eyes,
the fumbling fingers that
write this even now.
I shouldn’t have to shout
into this void about how
ridiculous your notions of me are,
nor should I have to prove my existence
like some ancient God
when I stand before you,
flesh and blood,
and a pulsing, beating heart.
Where are my temples,
where is my prayer,
if this is the case?
Either acknowledge me
standing before you
or build a monument in my honor.
I am bisexual
and I am here:
I am not some stitched up doll
sewn into a faulty pattern
that is discounted
because it is damaged.
I am bisexual
and the word describes my sexual orientation -
it should not give you any conceived notions
of what type of person I am,
it should not define my promiscuity
if there is any to be had,
it should not determine the clarity
of my mind,
it should not convince anyone
which of the seven deadly sins
is my chosen vice,
and it should not conjure any judgement
whatsoever by those determined to have a say
in what it means.
I am bisexual,
and that is an important element
to who I am,
one you cannot dismiss,
cover up,
or erase,
but it is not the most intriguing
thing about me,
it is simply one rather
relevant piece of a far more
complex puzzle.

Female and nonbinary dwarves are the best.  Sorry, I don’t make the rules.  It is a fact.

You know why?  Because we’ve had to make up everything about them.  The only thing we know is that, like the men of their kin, they’re short, broad, and hairy.  You know how many fictional women/nb characters are like that?  VERY FEW.  So we’ve got fanfic writers and fanartists who finally have an excuse (if they needed one) to celebrate a body-type that’s rarely praised. 

We’ve got fantastic Dís headcanons, and dwarves of Thorin’s company written/drawn as female because why not?  We have trans dwarves and genderqueer dwarves and dwarf society celebrating female smiths and warriors or ignoring gender altogether, or viewing gender in an entirely non-Human way because they AREN’T human, so why should they.  We have meta about language and failed or insufficient translations from Khuzdul to Westron (to English).

Should dwarves be gender-optional? Should dwarves have more than two genders? ABSOLUTELY. Whatever floats your boat.  Canon is silent on the matter.  I like gender-optional, agender, and genderqueer dwarves.  I like Dwalin beating the crap out of everything in her way.  I like genderfluid Nori fucking with people and enjoying their gender options.  I like Dís and her wife making adorable babies together.  I like female and nonbinary dwarf OCs of all kinds being traders and healers and smiths and lawyers and soldiers and criminals and quartermasters and musicians and miners.  I like my own calmly nonbinary -Ur family and brazenly female Dís.

In related news, be prepared for a bunch of dwarfy stuff coming down the pike this weekend.  I may be obsessing a bit.

@ishvallas / @rizaandthehawkeyes tagged me, thank you!!

Rules: answer the questions and tag 20 followers you would like to get to know better!

Name: Miranda

Nickname: I don’t really have one, my name can’t really be shortened, but I like it like that

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 5’

Orientation: oh that’s easy! I’m - *large truck passes by* and that’s everything you need to know about my orientation! Haha, idk. I’m attracted to women, but not really attracted to men. But I’m married to a man. And i love him. And I’m attracted to him. But not any other man. So maybe I’m biromantic and homosexual?? Or demisexual for men???? Idk I’m like 99% gay, so I just identify as gay

Ethnicity: whiter than a new toilet

Favourite Fruit: peaches! And strawberries! And melons!

Favourite Season: end of fall. Like when it’s just starting to get cold, but snow hasn’t fallen yet.

Favourite Book: hairy pooter

Favourite Flowers: daisies!

Favourite Scent: idk, my husband, rain, forests..

Favourite Colour: yellow

Favourite Animals: gigantic fluffy dogs!

Average Sleep Hours: lol like 3 (I have insomnia)

Cat or Dog person: both! I have a cat, her name is zoey and she’s my baby, and I’m aunt to my best friends German shepherd

Favourite fictional character: MAJOR GENERAL OLIVIER MIRA ARMSTRONG. and Izumi Curtis. And Riza Hawkeye. And Katara. And Toph. And Winry Rockbell. And Lan Fan. And korra. And Asami…

Number of Blankets I sleep with: 1. Our apartment is constantly hot. Our building never turns the heat off. Even in the summer.

Ideal trip: out of this country! I’ve never traveled. So literally anywhere.

Blog Created: I made this one in 2016 I think

I’m tagging @queenxolivier @haganenobeato @rizascupcakes @rizahawkstang @riza-hawkqueen @fullmetallizard @xennariel @izumiicurtis @gomboc123 @icameheretowinry @heliacalhufflepuff @nerdygaymormon @paper-planes-paper-towns @j-the-latter-gay-saint (everyone in #queerstake, I want to get to know you all)

anonymous asked:

oh. ew. fuck Terfs then, we need both men and women in a functioning society tbh

yea theyre kind of..paranoid lmao they think literally everything is an attack. also they throw around the word “rapist” all the time. theyre the kinds of feminists thatll take away a womans rights to think for herself and try to convince her she’s been raped time and time again because its “better for her to know the truth” aka be brainwashed into believing she didnt consent to something she previously had no ill feelings about

and on the other side are the anti-feminists who are basically stuck in a cloud of vape smoke, doritos and “actually, as a man” and “WOW u just cant seem to logic huh :) with ur tiny brains lmao haha” shit.

i know its wrong to generalize this but from all the TERF and anti-feminist blogs ive seen only like 5% doesnt fit this mold

I’m still kind of mad about the guy who messaged me yesterday. He sent another one, basically with the same tone: my way is the right way.

I see a lot of this, not just on the internet, but in person. People who think they know it all, that you don’t know shit, that they should school you on everything you’re doing wrong in your life. And while sometimes that comes from a woman, most of the time it’s from men, to women. 

We are fragile, unintelligent creatures who need men to tell us how to live, how to dress, how to diet, how to drive a car, how to exist. Whatever would we do without these know it alls in our lives telling us what to do and how to do it? 

I can make up my own mind, form my own opinions and gain my own knowledge without having a man explain to me why his opinion and his way is the best way to do things. I can learn about things without being condescended to as someone tries to explain his “correct” thoughts to me. I can live without the “well, actually” that comes with most of these explanations. 

I don’t need your facts and figures to set me straight, shouted at me with pointed finger and a sense of shaming. I’m a grown woman with a pretty well developed brain and the ability to form my own opinions and gather information without a smarmy lecture from someone else.

You want to teach me something? You want to discuss your opinion with me? Tone down the rhetoric. Talk to me like you would talk to one of your male buddies. Don’t talk *at* me. Don’t condescend. Have a two way conversation with me and maybe we can learn something from each other instead of you acting like you’re bestowing the gift of your all knowing mind on me, like I should genuflect toward you every time you finish off your “well, actually” soliloquy. Treat me like an equal and I bet we can have some pretty good discussions. Treat me like a stupid child, and I’m going to tell you to fuck off. 

Simple as that.

I know my mom doesn’t care about my boyfriend. He’s fat, dark skinned, and didn’t go to college so she doesn’t think he’s good enough and is the opposite of everything she wanted for me. He’s perfect for me and treats me right and has big dreams, but she doesn’t make any effort to get close to him. She still comments about how she wants light skinned curly haired grandchildren and tells me how much he needs to lose weight, even after almost 4 years of being together. It makes me resentful that my mom can’t be supportive of the one relationship where I’m madly in love and unbelievably happy just because he doesn’t look how she wants him to.