i am a woman with needs

Let's talk about Lucas

I’ve been away  from Tumblr for many months now. On my return I’ve discovered a disturbing trend relating to Lucas Baker from Resident Evil 7.

Let me preface my thoughts by pointing out that I’m a 43 year old woman, happily married with 4 children, ranging in age from 14 to 18.

It may not be relevant  to mention this but I feel some context is essential.

There are people out there loving on a psychopathic fictional character.

I am one of those people. Sorry.

“Why?” I hear you ask? “Why are you attracted to an evil, unattractive - to many - fictional character?!”

Meh. It’s complicated.

The main point, I feel, is that he’s FICTIONAL. I’m not some lonely woman writing to serial killers on death row because they’re misunderstood  babies who just need the love of a good woman - those are real men who have done terrible things to real people to satisfy some godawful urge they felt. They did unforgivable things to make themselves feel better.

Lucas Baker is just a face - the lovely Baptiste Parisi - a voice - Jesse Pimental - and a collection of pixels. He is not a real person. Therefore, he can be whatever we want him to be.

Evil? Psycho? Murderer?

Nope. He just never met ME. Things would have been different if he’d known me. My cuddliness would have been his redemption.

Hey, he’s fictional. Who the fuck knows his backstory? Who cares? He’s ours. He can be who we want. He’s my fuckdoll, my grateful sex slave, my perverted master, my lonely loser. Whatever.

I’ve  a long history  of obsessions with fictional bad guys. Show me a photo of Tom Hardy and I’m indifferent. Show me a pic of Darth Vader, Jason Voorhees or Freddy Kreuger and I’ll  have them doing my dishes in a frilly apron in my head before the picture has left my line of vision.

You’re fictional? Yeah, you’re mine, bitch. You’re whatever I want. Lucas, come and cuddle. You’ve been waiting for some love, and I’m just the woman to give it to you……💜💜

First Two Squares of Agent Carter Blanket!

I’ve done the first two squares of the Agent Carter blanket with more to come!

Next on the hit list is a gun, Sousa’s sweater vest, Angie’s uniform, and more!

Still having trouble charting Peggy’s hat but I’m sure that will come together.

All in all, there will be 15 squares:

Sousa (sweater vest)
Thompson (haven’t figured this one out yet. Suit and tie?)
Angie (uniform)
Ana (flowery dress)
Peggy (I think the blue dress from the finale)
I Know My Value
Sweet Dreams lipstick
Jarvis (again not sure, suit and tie? It needs to look different from Jack’s)
SSR logo (Sort of, I can’t figure out the bird part)
Do as Peggy Says
Whats Your Name Darling?

I really wanted to do the AC logo but knitting the shadow woman with the gun is too hard.

Am I missing anything important? Because I can always add more squares!

I am learning that I love charting even more than regular knitting. It’s a good challenge!

@unhearted-demon requested that I tag them so here you go!

anonymous asked:

Not a question, just needed to say how very sorry I am to read yet another vile post has found its way to bloggers that are good people. And if your dearly departed daughter followed in the footsteps of a woman who faces such bile with grace, she was a grand soul. ~ LScribbles

She was an inspiration to me

How often my conversations about feminism have spiraled into requests for assault. I say, “Women don’t need men to defend them,” and am asked, “Can I punch you, then?” And I say, “Women belong in movies and video games and everything,” and I hear terrible things, unprintable slurs and demands for my assault, the threatening of a young woman to shut up: What they would do to silence me. The things they’d shove between my teeth. I say, “Men cannot threaten any woman they disagrees with,” and I’m told, “Women are just as cruel. Am I not supposed to respond in kind?” In my inbox today I have deleted sixteen messages asking for my life. When I say, “Your virginity only means what you want it to mean,” I’m asked, “If you believe in sexual freedom can I fuck you?” When I say “All it takes to be a woman is to want to be a woman,” I am asked, “So if I just say that I’m a woman, can I watch you in the shower?” As if women stand shadowy behind each other in our private moments. As if being woman means sexually assaulting each other.

Part of me - cynical, unwilling to be frightened, says that it might be a nice dose of reality. My shower where I am naked but my hair becomes streaky and thin, where my body sags, where my makeup smears. To witness a woman less than sexy, legs akimbo while shaving, pulling up flab thighs to reach the underside. Part of me dares them to punch me because I fight to win and am small but I’ll kill a man if he touches me. Once I dropped a U.S Marine. Part of me, hellfire and ice queen - says come on, then. You want a fight? Come fight me.

But more is scared. More timidly deletes messages, makes sure my name is hidden, doesn’t answer the endless antifeminist comments. The insertion of men and their opinion on simple things like “I teach children to ask before hugging.” When I close my eyes sometimes I wonder if they’re right and that scares me. How much am I going to change when my voice only echoes around me.

Why are you angry. Why are you angry. What do you think we are taking from you? If it’s not already equal why would equality frighten you.

The ancient art of being a woman and trying to get your voice heard: the gentle suggestion, the peaceful comment. The quiet listening to another opinion and the fact we must acknowledge it before we can continue. That I must educate, be sweet, be feminine in my feminism or else it’s “invalid.” I must present my declaration as a timid thing: “Women maybe should be part of more things.” And then the apologies: of course I don’t hate men, yes I like plenty of things with men in them, no I don’t think women are better. And then the explanations: women are people, here is the number of women in media, here is the number of dead women in media, here are the number of shows led by men. And then I brace for it. For the bullying.

Every time I speak it’s from a flinch. From “maybe this isn’t always the case but for me it is.” From please listen. From less demanding. God forbid I state factually that men are violent. If I speak about our fathers and brothers and the cycle of anger unfolding. God forbid I suggest that just once we should cut the bullshit and treat women well without pandering to men about how that helps them. What if I say “Men shouldn’t hit anyone. Hitting isn’t an answer.”

I’ll tell you what happens. The post was up for four seconds with three notes. The message I get is “If hitting isn’t allowed I’ll just go ahead and shove a gun down your throat.”

Men, we need to have a conversation about this microaggression towards black women

There is no reason you should disrespect a woman because she doesn’t do what you want her to do.

There is no reason you should try to embarrass her because she turned you down.

There is no reason you should make her feel bad about herself because she didn’t stroke your ego.

We need to start putting men like this in their place. I am so serious. I’m tired of hearing these stories about how women were called derogatory terms, assaulted, and even murdered because your feelings were hurt. This has to stop. Now. We’ve got to attack this from its roots.

  • Me: I am an independent woman who don't need no relationship
Y’all, I just need to say something about Hidden Figures and how annoyed I am by the fact that we’re just hearing about these phenomenal women.

John Glenn essentially only trusted Katherine Goble (now Johnson) with HIS LIFE. When the computer was fucked up, he told them he wanted HER to check the numbers. Not just anyone. HER. AND WE’RE JUST THE FUCK NOW HEARING ABOUT THIS WHEN IT WAS A HUGE PRIDE FOR THE NATION AND SHIT? WHY DID I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL 2017 TO LEARN THAT A BLACK WOMAN IS THE ONLY REASON JOHN GLENN WAS WILLING TO GO INTO SPACE? HUH? HUUUUUH????????? 


I’ll tell you why: Misogyny + racism.

I’m surprised that some people still refer to Yuri on Ice’s content as ‘yaoi fanservice’?

Like, I get that all the butt shots and Victor’s need to get naked every episode are fanservice of some form, but Victor and Yuuri’s relationship just isn’t.

Or, if you think it is, then just tell me: when do interactions between two characters of the same sex stop being ‘fanservice’ and start being a canonical relationship?

Like, seriously how much further do they have to go for you to realize that they’re *gasp* gay for each other?

I mean, what are you expecting? The things we see in straight couples? Like, Idk, maybe physical closeness? Hugs? Holding hands? Touching foreheads? Public declarations of love? The desire to seduce/be seduced by your partner? Mental support? The desire to help someone find confidence in their skills? The desire to know someone better but also the tact of knowing not to push too far? The act of understanding love thanks to one very specific person? The act of dedicating your best work to one specific person? The act of always being there for one specific person?

Come now, you must be dreaming, no pair of two characters of the same sex could get that sort of development.

Oh wait. They already did.

Tell me one more time that Yuri on Ice offers nothing but yaoi fanservice. I double freaking dare you.

When I am calm, I need a Trump supporter to explain this to me:

I need to know why the good of minorities, women, the disabled and LGBT didn’t mean anything to you.

I want to know why a misogynist and a racist was more attractive to you than a woman who was more than qualified for the position of president.

Make me understand. Because y’all just handed my children’s future to one of the most disgusting, incompetent candidates in modern history.

Bonus: I need to know why third party voters thought their morality was more important than keeping the Presidency out of the hands of an amoralist.

Day Eighty-One

-A pair of jocks came through my lane, eager to make their purchases of Yu-Gi-Oh decks. I can only hope that this was in preparation for a niche offshoot of chess boxing.

-A girl handed her grandmother a five-dollar bill to purchase something for her. After the purchase was made, the girl demanded her money back, as since the item was now bought, the grandmother has no need for it anymore. This has been the ultimate hustle and I am grateful to have been taking notes.

-After I asked a woman a question, she immediately became defensive. I am not sure if I went too far and overstepped the acceptable boundaries of cashier conversation. She stood there, suspicious wondering how I could ask such a question. I stood there, scanning, regretting asking how she was.

-A man called the store to ask permission to ride his hoverboard. He was denied, but I expect the kind of man who wishes to ride a hoverboard to do his shopping is not the kind of man to take no for an answer.

-A kid warned his mother not to eat her credit card. I did not see anything to cause this concern, but I trust he knows her better than I do.

-I was told by an elderly woman that she wished card readers would forcefully physically eject the cards onto the floor once they were done. I will now be paying a visit to the patent office.

-A college-aged man explained to me that the boxers he was purchasing were for emergencies. I understand him and appreciate his foresight.

-A woman’s shirt read “DICKS: Last Resort.” I cannot determine whether she is an overt abstinence-only Christian or an overt bisexual with a preference. Either way, I want this shirt.

-A sheriff came into the store with a serious look on his face. I was immediately filled with existential terror, anxiety, and nervous gas despite having never committed a crime in my life and also being white.

-Four college boys stumbled through my lane post-blaze. I know this as in the middle of his purchase, one stopped, blinked fervently, and loudly announced, “I just realized that there are four of us here!” They all laughed. One suggested investing in stocks. He handed me all of the cash in his wallet.

When I call Carrie Fisher a Jewish Princess, I am not simply calling her a princess who is Jewish.  It doesn’t mean what it would mean if I simply called her a princess.  This is not a title I give her to put her in some fairy tale idea of womanhood, to make her somehow safe.  Instead I am celebrating all of the parts of her that are not a part of the princess ideal.  I am giving her a title of honor and reclamation.

Jewish Princess, or Jewish American Princess (often abbreviated as JAP) is a term used to shame Jewish women, for not fitting the White American Gentile view of what women should be, for being outspoken, for having needs of our own, for thinking too much of ourselves, or even for having mental illness.  Carrie Fisher, an unapologetic, mentally ill, woman who refused to be shamed, who was open about her struggles and the unpretty parts of herself, was a Jewish Princess.  What we are shamed for, she was, and she was glorious.

May her memory be a blessing.


So, if anyone doubts that I am a rabid Reylo fan - BEHOLD, the Reylo fanart I commissioned from @panda-capuccino for my fic, Mine To Hold. Seriously, this woman is a frickin’ Reylo magician! Her art is AMAZING, and finding her work is what eventually led me to tumblr (through DeviantArt).

I detailed a few of the *ahem* more intense scenes in the story and she came up with these masterpieces. Kylo is just like…sexual temptation personified, and Rey is just so “DAMMIT, WHY ARE YOU SO GOOD AT THIS??” 

Anyway, I can’t stop squealing internally over these so I needed to share. Also, my birthday is in 3 days, so Happy Birthday to me! Thanks again, @panda-capuccino!

Day Sixty-Five

-A woman informed me that her boyfriend is a railroader. There was no context, explanation, or follow-up, but I am glad to know that railroader is still a profession in the year 2016.

-Three dudebros came through my lane with armfuls of assorted children’s toys, high-fiving one another as their totals passed thirty dollars. This is the sort of support real men need.

-A woman spoke to me words that I will never forget: “My husband is worse than our kids on Christmas. We have ferrets. He uses our ferrets to open presents under the tree early.” All I want in my simple life is to meet this man and apprentice under him in his ferret-harnessing trade.

-An elderly man strolled through the store, his wispy beard moving to its own accord, his short steps each appearing to carry him much farther than they possibly could have. My life is forever changed having been in the presence of such a powerful tree spirit.

-The computer printed out a coupon for menstrual pads. I handed it to the man for whom it was printed, who in turn dropped his head, sighed sadly, and walked away. 

-An older woman approached me and began to place her items on the conveyor belt. Once she got to the bottom of the cart and spilled an enormous bag of candy, she looked at me and told me that this was someone else’s cart. She then took the cart and walked away to the back of the store. She returned a long time later with a cart full of pillows, very different to the children’s clothing she had unloaded.

-A man who seemed to be missing eyelids zoomed into the store on a motorized cart. Before I could get a good look at him, though, he was gone in a blink of an eye.


get to know me meme: [2/10] fem!characters moodboard: éowyn
”All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death.“ 


Rereading the chapter: did Mutsuki dissociate to the point of er, mishearing Uta? Because Uta says, 「下ろして」(oroshite; ‘get off me’), and it’s almost as if Mutsuki heard 「殺して」(koroshite; ‘kill me’) and went, “Okay”.

After killing Uta Mutsuki thinks 「出来上がり」which basically means “Voila” and is usually something you say when you’ve accomplished something productive. 

Mutsuki specifically uses the kanji for romantic love, apparently just in case someone couldn’t tell. 

I guess “It’s almost embarrassing how much of a woman I am” means I need to change Mutsuki’s pronouns? I think I’m going to use a singular ‘they’ for now, but that’s a pretty big point for the “traumatized girl” theory. 

Amon says: “The ghouls… have Mado-san?” so he’s at least partially aware of his surroundings. 

The last three phrases of the chapter are actually all said by Takizawa: “He’s tough (literally, like a rock). I’ll leave the rest to you, Academy student. I’m going to go all in.” Which is sensible, I guess, considering kakujas are unstable at the best of times.