making the females later

✧ ——— under the read more are 107 textured gif icons lindsey morgan requested by anon. none of these gifs were made by me, i just cropped & edited them all, so shoutout to the creators ! like or reblog if you plan on using these pls. * blood tw, guns tw, torture tw

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Finishing School Series Aesthetic - Sophronia Angelina Temminnick

“Lady Linette was prone to saying that if Sophronia had any major weakness,
it was her unswerving l o y a l t y. To which Sophronia always responded that she intended to prove that was a strength.”

You know what I love about the foxhole court?

It features a canon lgbt relationship between a gay boy and a demisexual boy, a relationship that isn’t even a main focus of the books but still manages to contribute to both the plot and the character development.

A same-sex relationship that doesn’t end tragically, that shows these two characters staying together for years to come and leading a healthy domestic life with two cats, an apartment and a joint career.

A relationship that may not start out well, that is anything but love at first sight, but grows so much through personal struggles and mutual respect, and results in something worthwhile.

A relationship that places heavy emphasis not only on mutual consent, on learning and supporting, on protection and respect, but also on individual independence.

A relationship that doesn’t cast other characters to the sidelines, that isn’t the main character’s only source of happiness, because it takes more than romance to develop a character.

A relationship with a goddamn happy ending that feels entirely deserving for both characters because this is how they love, this is how they overcome their past, this is how they grow, not dependent on each other but side-by-side.

Just a goddamn happy same-sex relationship that doesn’t end in death or separation and that involves characters actually learning to respect and love each other basically???

im still thinking about that comment on the female aaron fic that was like “i dont know why everyone assumes that fanfiction is the ‘better version’ of canon” or w/e it was that was excusing the homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia of that concept because like….if you dont think that your fanfics are the “better version” of canon, then why do yall write r*bert as aaron’s savior? why do you write him as kind, selfless, and supportive? why do yall have r*blivion fics where r*bert is happy to take on the role of liv’s guardian? why do yall write fics where paddy has forgiven him? why do yall write fix-it fics where r*bert never cheated? why do yall write fics where rebecca didn’t exist at all? why do yall change r*bert’s entire character and personality to fit the made up version of him that you have in your mind?

my point is that a) that fic idea is homophobic, biphobic, and transphobic as hell but also b) you dont get to say things like “we dont think fanfiction is the better version of canon” when you literally also say things like “i didnt like how the episode went so this is what i wanted to see instead :)” to fit your own narrative. the r*bert y’all fawn over and write about isnt real and the sooner yall see that, the sooner yall will realize that he’s not actually worth any of your effort

If and Then || Seokjin || Pt. 3

Originally posted by go2bedjungkook

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt. 4 // Pt. 5 // Pt. 6 //

Word Count: 3060

Genre: romance, angst, fluff, single-parent au

Summary: Some days you wonder how your life would be like had you not left the alter

“Dr. Kim!”

Seokjin halted in the hall; his eyes were still on the clipboard in his hand as he turned around, eyes fluttering upwards to the surgeon before turning back to his patient’s file. “Yes, Surgeon Park?”

Park Jimin awkwardly shuffled, his scrubs drenched in his sweat from the surgery prior to this untimely meeting. He could tell that Dr. Kim Seokjin was not in the best mood. It was most likely because a rookie nurse nearly killed his patient earlier or maybe it was even because Seokjin had a slight bias against surgeons. Either way, Jimin steeled himself for whatever wind the older man might blow to him.

“I heard you wanted to do a bypass on one of your patients.”

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Te Rerenga Wairua - Prologue

Title: Te Rerenga Wairua
Summary: Found by the gods drifting at sea, Maui always assumed he had been thrown in it to drown. When that assumption is challenged, there is only one way to find closure: speaking to his long-departed family. But it’s never a smooth sail to the Underworld, and he’ll need help from a friend - plus a token that fell in the claws of an old enemy long ago.
Characters: Maui, Moana, Tamatoa
Rating: K

A/N: This fic is mostly based on the legend according to which Maui’s mother believed him to be stillborn and therefore meant to bury him at sea - not abandon him as Maui says in the movie. Then again, how would he know? He was a baby. He may have made the wrong assumption. I liked the idea, and this fic happened.
This is a prologue; the next chapters - see below - will be set shortly after the movie.


Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6


There were things Tamatoa knew he wasn’t supposed to do. Leaving the cave and getting to the surface on his own was one of them; getting close to the humans was another.

“You’re still too small and soft, and this won’t help you,” his grandmother had said, knocking on the seashell he was using until he grew old enough to harden his own shell. “Humans, birds, bigger crabs. If they catch you they’ll pull you out of the shell, crack you open and eat you up.”

“Like when we ate Ma?”

“Hah! Much more easily than that. Her shell was tough. Your tiny little pincers couldn’t even scratch it. Tinytoa,” Gran had mocked him, one eyestalk inching closer. 

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end-of  asked:

would u mind sharing ur thoughts on sexism in sjm books? particularly tog series, cause i got that vibe throughout but i can't articulate it smh

*this took me two days to properly respond to and everything is a mess but below the cut are my very scattered thoughts on the messiness that is the sexism/white feminism of throne of glass

At the surface of the series, Throne of Glass is a feminist story featuring a young girl who is as comfortable with her appearance as she is with her sword, makes friendships with other female characters, and later moves on the become a queen. But that’s all the surface, and the feminism this series prides itself on is more of a disguise than anything.

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From The Depths

Sam imagine requested by anon! “Fluffy Sam cuddles please? reader is tortured for information by metatron/gadreel and by the time the guys get to her she has been dead for a few minutes but thankfully Cas is able to at least make her heart continue beating; Sam is constantly by your side and gets a habit of sleeping with his face snuggled into your chest so he can hear your heartbeat” I may tweak the request just for length’s sake, but I’d be happy to continue it if I you think I left any crucial points out. Hope you like it!


You woke to the acrid, boiling scent of iron filtering into the stagnant air like venom through a vein, the odor tangible on your taste buds. A sluggish stream of crimson dripped from between your swollen lips to taint the already grimy concrete flooring with a garish red, the thick stream half-congealed, marking your time with the heavy drip, drip as droplets struck the floor. Your vision faded in and out like the faulty focus of a cheap disposable camera, edges blurring, softened in your stupor. Memories were seeping through the fog that hazed the clarity of your recollection; the blunt end of an angel blade striking the base of your skull with a practiced precision, lights flickering before your eyes as your limp body was torn from the floor, wrists shackled by leaden metal chains, back arching forward, your body unable to maintain the coordination necessary to avoid the slumping form you now found yourself slave to. A jawline sharp enough to slice bamboo clean in half, no contest, clenching… and fist after determined fist colliding with your jaw, your nose, your temple, knuckles packing literal tons of power into the human flesh swinging at your features.

Inhuman, your torturer was, his might striking an emotion more potent than terror into your weakening heart, every struggling pulse spiking your blood with burning oil more staggering than the memory itself. The image of his face came into focus, the glint behind his eyes, the prominent curve of his cheekbones beneath the exposed light bulb, painting a portrait of aggression as fists crashed over you like seawater, striking relentlessly in waves. With a sloppy shake of your head, you tore yourself back to consciousness, away from the rocks and the surf, your hunter’s instincts pushing through the pain peppering your limbs, urging you to locate an exit, to fashion a lock pick somehow, to find some way to slow the flow of blood from your mouth, all of your options ending in vacant impossibility. You closed your eyes, an action far more difficult than you had imagined it would be, your swollen skin fighting all strain as you further stretched the surface with movement. Your lungs labored as if punctured (you had been unfortunate enough to experience the pain of such an injury once before), fighting to breathe in the air, heavy as it was with the pungent stench of rotting flesh and festering wounds, saliva mingling with the salty, metallic liquid in your mouth, your throat slick with bile. Tears sealed your lashes together like industrial adhesive, your body groaning in protest as each individual laceration and bruise reminded you of their presence, your wrists especially painful, rubbed raw from struggling against the cuffs securing you to the wall. The chains tinkled wearily as your body gave one last shove towards escape, metal grinding on metal quietly, seeming to laugh at your pathetic attempt. You sighed, ribs smarting at the slight movement, clearly fractured… at the least. Your mind was fading, that much you were sure of, but the extent of your more severe injuries was unknown to you besides the simple notion that they were no walk in the park. With your eyes as damaged as they were, it was difficult to open wide and assess what you could see of your body. You were nowhere near a full-length mirror, and despite your frequent brushes with death, you were far from a medical professional. Your only chances of a full recovery were a trip to the hospital or a healing session with an angel, both of which were not possibilities. You chuckled softly to yourself, your tongue darting over the raw slit in your busted lip, tasting strongly of sweat and of blood. At least you wouldn’t have to explain how severe your fall down the stairs had been to a waiting room nurse this time around. There was always a bright side… even now.

Your chin was resting against your chest with exhausted defeat, your head unable to hold its own against the clobbering it had received at the hands of your tormentor, slits of trembling vision produced from your weakened efforts to pry your bloated eyelids apart showing no clear signs of rescue or release. You could hear no guns blazing in the distance, nor the flutter of angel wings as your heavenly medic made his appearance. It seemed neither the Winchesters nor Castiel would be able to find you this time. You noticed, among the other atrocities littered around your withered shell, scorch marks in the form of feathers scattered about visible ground that the sickening pool of your blood hadn’t already masked with a violent scarlet. This was one of your tormentor’s regular kill sites, and with the number of charcoal wings you could count from between thick eyelids, your release was not an option. You imagined he would be disappointed to find your body would make no permanent marking upon the ground where you would perish. A sliver of light, accompanied by the wail of rusted metal against stone, sent your body into a rigid defense, forcing your scattered thoughts into rigid alignment, though you couldn’t yet form the proper connections mentally to the fear seizing your heart, your pulse roaring with sterioded enthusiasm as graceful footsteps drew nearer to your location.

It was him, you were sure of it. No one else would approach your bleeding, bloated body with such a patient disdain for your well-being. No, it was him. He’d inflicted this upon you, he wouldn’t be shocked or surprised by your state of disarray. Come to finish his work, come to finally let your poor heart, which had been stuttering along like the flame produced of a wick half submerged in molten wax, grow silent. The footsteps approached at a faster rate, your attacker coming in for the kill. Oh God, it was over. You had failed. No matter how many times you were faced with an angel blade plunging for your chest or claws descending for your face, you could never shake the sinking sense of dread that accompanied death in all of it’s forms. You were a hunter to prevent death, and no matter the extent of your familiarity with death, you would never cease to fear it. To your surprise, two feverishly warm and heavily calloused palms pressed against your cheeks, lifting your head towards the dimming ivory light emitted by the single swinging bulb above, bare glass streaked with stains you hadn’t noticed before, nor that you could explain. It was a man, you realized; his hands were larger, wider than a woman’s, no matter her size or stature, and his fingernails didn’t graze your skin… they were cut short. His palms were too rough for a woman, too, not that your line of work didn’t defeat the purpose of hand lotion, but the build-up of hardened skin had been years in the making, and females, even female hunters, tended to abandon self-care stereotypes later on in life, leaving their callouses thinner, less prominent. His face was blocked by the bursts of obsidian pooling before your eyes, his silhouette sparking recognition. You recognized his hair, you thought, but your head had been bashed one too many times to put puzzle pieces together at your usual rate. His voice strained to reach your ears, though he could have been speaking Mandarin for all you could understand, his gravelly voice warped as though he were holding you underwater as he yelled. You may have recognized your name, or perhaps it was another wordless cry for your attention… was this someone you knew, or a concerned stranger? You couldn’t focus on the man, but something about the hair… no, it wasn’t the hair, and there was a light swinging behind him, but it was growing very dark. You only hoped he was calling for you, whoever he was. His hands shook your face as your head lolled to the side, resting against his shoulder, your arms confined behind your back, the strain on your bleeding wrists finally forcing your body into unconsciousness to numb the pain ravaging your body, your last view marred so in black that you could define nothing.

"Sister, I do not wish to injure you further.” he had said, his voice dripping with sympathy, guilt, with a passionate fury you could barely begin to fathom, an angel blade dropping orbs of crimson to the concrete at your knees, your shoulders stinging from the freshly inflicted wounds. You remembered being irritated with his sense of self-loathing, the guilt that leaked into his voice. If he felt so goddamn guilty, why didn’t he just stop? You had bit down on your bottom lip then, blood dancing across your tongue as you fought the undying urge to spill every detail he demanded, to reveal every location he demanded, every first and last name of every person you had ever known, just to have it all end. Hell, you would have sung him an opera if it would make him stop sticking you with his gleaming rapier… but you had held out for this long, there was enough motivation to keep you quiet, for the time being. “Please, this can all end at your will. Cooperate, for your own sake. Who are the Winchesters to you? Are they really worth your life?” At this, you had spat a stream of tainted saliva in his direction, his eyes losing the luster they had possessed before, the sorry glint fading to one of dutiful disconnection, his fingers flicking the blade about like a baton, a menacing act of coordination. There was enough motivation in the Winchester name to keep you silent for an eternity.

“Weren’t you the one who hijacked my boyfriend’s meatsuit? You know exactly how I feel about the Winchesters,” you retorted, your voice crackling from the strain screaming had dealt to your vocal chords, your body recoiling as the blade hissed against your exposed collarbone, Gadreel’s face crumbling in either rage or shame, his chin wrinkling as he forced the point through your shoulder. You shrieked, tears blooming along your waterlines, streams quickly joining the oaths of water that had already fallen from your eyes. His brow knotting as he retracted his weapon, tossing the blade into the corner of the room, metal clamoring against the stone. He absentmindedly began cuffing the sleeves of his shirt, rolling the fabric, already dotted with ruby droplets of your blood, up to his elbows. He sighed, frustrated more than weary, his shoulders dropping with the force of his exhale.

“It would be in your best interest, sister, to tell me where they are,” he spoke, balling his fists in preparation for another round of one-sided martial arts, though his eyes projected his premature regret. Again, he could stop at any time if he truly felt guilty, and you weren’t buying his tortured soldier facade so long as he kept wailing on you. And you weren’t his sister; no one treats a sibling like a hunk of pig’s meat in a Mythbusters episode. His biblical manners were grating on your nerves, thin as they were from the physical beating you were taking to protect the location of your family. “I do not want to hurt you.” You smirked, your head falling to your chest as a desperate laugh bubbled past your lips, insanity shattering your composure.

“Pity you want to stop now, I could’ve sworn you were enjoying yourself. I’d hate to shit on your parade, here, but you’ve been hurting me, buddy. It’s a little late to call off the wedding when you’re standing at the altar.” At your curse, he had flinched, stepping close enough for you to count the stitching of his denim jeans. “So go ahead, keep drilling me about the Winchesters. Fire away and carve me like a ham. You’ll have to bleed me dry before you get me thinking about betraying my family.” You nodded in the direction he had disregarded his weapon, raising your brows in suggestion. “You know, it’s quicker with a sword.” He had clenched his jaw then, before completely ignoring your words and continuing with his fists alone.

“Y/n? Damn it, Cas, try again. Y/n, you with me? Hey, hey! Don’t you close your eyes- Y/n! Hey, c’mere, we’re gonna get you out of here. Hang on, we’re getting you out. Stay with me, Y/n, don’t close your- hey, I need you with me, Y/n. Cas, come on!” Came the frantic, warbled voice of your boyfriend, his heartbeat erratic against your ear. You could focus on little else beside the panicked beating from within his chest and the distant, equally panicked gravel of his voice. A cheek brushed against your chest, followed by a hopeful “She has a heartbeat! Cas, we have to move,” in the same gravelly tenor as before. Your lungs were burning, heart pumping along, an unearthly chill vanishing from your fingertips and joints, as if you’d been immobile for centuries. That must have been Castiel fighting for your life, you assumed, given the state you must’ve been in for the younger Winchester to be speaking with such a terrified tone. The chains broke from around your wrists, your body collapsing against Sam’s, his arms looping around your waist in an instant, slinging you easily into his chest, the rush of his returning height packing additional delirium atop the swirling you received from being revived so suddenly. You had enough sense about you to dissect your surroundings, finding Castiel slumped against the smashed concrete walls, struggling for composure as he limped after you, Sam’s feet and monstrous gait propelling you from the room, leaving behind a puddle of sickening scarlet, your shackles scraping to a stop against the stone as you lost consciousness, your body stripped of all energy as you were drawn from the depths, your unconsciousness brought on by exhaustion rather than a failing heart. It was safe to sleep, you knew, as your body was spirited away from Gadreel’s den and home to the loving attentions of Sam Winchester.

anonymous asked:

If you got to change the whole 2004 movie (cast, blocking, etc) what would you do?

Scrap the entire thing. Film the stage production. Release it. In fact, release all the proshots of the show ever made. Watch fans cheer. Profit.

Buuttt since the probably of that happening is about as high as the probability of me managing to change anything about the 2004 film… here’s not so much what I’d do, but more a bunch of random changes I’d make to the existing film:

  • Most of the aesthetic of the movie is pretty great, so I would keep that.
  • The film also attempts to answer some lingering questions in the stage production (like how would the mob know the way down to the Phantom’s lair), so keep that as well.
  • Recast the Phantom and Christine with actors who took more than four singing lessons (ahem Gerard Butler) and were trained in more than just the children’s chorus (ahem Emmy Rossum).
  • Give the Phantom a horrifying deformity. Because come on…
  • Set the film in freaking 1881, not in 1870 when there’s a war going on.
  • Make Christine at least 20 years old, or at least older than 16. Raoul should be around the same age. The Phantom should be older.
  • Inform the actress playing Christine that her character actually goes through a hell of a lot of character development and to try and show at least some of that.
  • Carlotta is a good singer. Don’t make her a bad one. Christine is impressive because she combines good technique with emotional singing, not because “Oh she can actually hit the notes, I guess we’ll keep her.”
  • If some of the lyrics are going to be spoken, then at least change them so that they don’t rhyme.
  • Omit all mentions of ballet dormitories, because they do not exist.
  • Omit any mentions of the Phantom interacting with Christine as a child, because no matter how you cut it, that’s actually kind of creepy. (Either he went “You know, I think this child I’m going to help take care of is going to make a good future wife” or he went “Hey, this child I helped take care of is actually really pretty and would make a good wife”.)
  • If you’re going to have Caesar the horse in the movie, then at least make him the right color.
  • Daroga cameo? Philippe cameo? Cameo of any of the other characters in Leroux’s film?
  • The costumes certainly do not have to be Maria Bjornson’s design, but at least try to make them accurate, by which I mean: please put more clothes on Christine during the rooftop scene, she’s basically in the 19th century equivalent of her underwear. And also probably really cold.
  • Make the Phantom’s appearance after ‘All I Ask of You’ a surprise. I want that song to be about Christine and Raoul’s budding love, not “Aw, Raoul and Christine are so in love AND NOW BACK TO THE PHANTOM’S ANGST SESSION.”
  • Even though I’m actually fond of the black/white/gold color scheme of ‘Masquerade’, I still want to see that scene as what it’s meant to be - a riot of color and different costumes.
  • Put back ‘Notes II’, because Christine confronting Carlotta is a great moment (though the Don Juan rehearsal can be skipped).
  • Hike Christine’s ‘Wishing’ neckline a few inches up, because way to sexualize a scene and character that does not need to be sexualized, and really, half the theories about ‘Wishing’ being about the Phantom (or Christine having “daddy issues”) probably emerged from that half-bared chest.
  • Take away the swordfight. There’s no feasible way to do it: you can’t have the Phantom win because he’d just run through Raoul and grab Christine and oops, now your movie is an AU, but having Raoul win makes the Phantom look far less powerful and forces Raoul to hold the idiot ball. (No Raoul, you don’t have to kill him, but maybe you can tie him up? Take him to the police?? Do anything except leave him there??? Oh you have a plan to trap the Phantom, but you already trapped him a few hours ago and didn’t do anything???? Am I supposed to have faith in your plan???)
  • I don’t care if there’s some kind of symbolism present, somebody please staple Christine’s Aminta sleeves to her shoulders.
  • For the love of heaven, have Christine actually move around during the ‘Final Lair’, not just stand by crying prettily while her boyfriend gets strangled.
  • While the ending is nice, it might be worth it to make Raoul less old, lest we force the audience to accept a doddering Phantom still hanging around the graveyard.
  • Ah yes… make LND even more impossible. Show Raoul with a horde of children. Female children. Make sure people mention that Christine died much later than 1905. And of something other than a gunshot wound. And also in France. And surrounded with her many loved ones, including her friend who did not run off to Coney Island and her husband who she did not cheat on before her wedding.
  • Play this at the end of the movie (obviously in English).

anonymous asked:

There are masculine deities and feminine deities. Are there any deities who represent the in between, or genderless deities?

I actually have a document from a class that was all about this. The Instructor gave me permission to post it on here for you. Her name is Darlene Wagner and she’s a huge activist for LGBTQ+ rights. These notes probably have what you’re looking for and much more!

The Spirituality and Cultural Diversity of Transgender Persons

An individual with inborn traits, appearance, or social role different from the traditional definitions of gender within his/her society is termed “Gender Non-Conforming”.  Different societies around the world and throughout human history have had different names for gender non-conforming people, while in Western societies, transgender has become the preferred term.  Many traditional cultures attribute religious or spiritual meaning to gender non-conformity.  In some traditional, non-Western cultures, lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) individuals are grouped with gender non-conforming individuals.  By comparison, Western society considers LGB persons as   separate from transgender.  Western society also seeks to exclude LGB, transgender, and other gender non-conforming people from religious and spiritual life.  Here, I seek to empower transgender, intersex, and LGB people with a sense that the Divine encompasses their gender non-conformity and sexuality.  

I. Terminology of Gender Non-Conformity

- Modern Western


Transgender is the most widely accepted term in developed countries for gender non-conforming persons who self-identify as gender role distinct from biological sex.  Transgender is considered an umbrella term encompassing individuals who permanently change their gender, individuals who live as the opposite sex without permanent physical change, individuals born with ambiguous sexual anatomy, or individuals who self-identify as neither male nor female.  Sexual orientation of transgender individuals can be gay, lesbian, heterosexual, bisexual, pansexual, or asexual.

Cisgender is used to refer to non-transgender people.  A non-transgender person performs gender roles or have a gender identity that conforms to expectations of his or her society. Cisgender remains a controversial term since it tends to dismiss gender non-conformity among non-transgender people, such as gay men and lesbian women.

Male-to-Female Transgender - Transwoman - MtF.  Born anatomically male but identifies as female or feels “inwardly” female. During transition or change to living full-time as female, may take estrogen as pills or injection. Sometimes have “bottom surgery” or sex-reassignment surgery.  Not all transwomen living full-time as women take estrogen or seek bottom surgery.

Female-to-Male Transgender - Transman - FtM. Born anatomically female but identifies as male or feels “inwardly” male. During transition or change to living full-time as male, may take testosterone injections.  Sometimes have “top surgery” or breast removal.  Not all transmen living full-time as men take testosterone or care to have top surgery.

Intersex Individuals born with genital configuration, endocrine function, or genetic characteristics giving biological characteristics of both sexes or indeterminate sex.  Not all intersex people identify as part of transgender community.

Genderqueer is a broad categorical term for individuals not strictly to identify as male nor female.  Sometimes prefer to be called by non-gendered pronouns such as they or ze.  Genderqueer may include agender or non-binary persons who identify as no gender.  Genderqueer may also include bigender or genderfluid individuals who are comfortable presenting as either/both male and female. Not all genderqueer people identify as part of transgender community.

Transvestite is widely considered a derogatory term in Transgender community.  Cross-dresser is a more acceptable term, but some biologically male individuals who dress as women prefer terms such as gender queer or gender fluid.

Tranny , Shemale, and He-she are very derogatory — often used in hate-speech by non-LGBT persons and is too often inappropriately used as a term of endearment by LGB persons.

Hermaphrodite is also widely considered a derogatory term in Transgender community.  Hermaphrodite is occasionally used in academic or medical contexts to to refer specifically to intersex individuals born with both male and female anatomical characteristics.

Transsexual is acceptable, but is becoming less commonly used. Typically only transwomen and transmen who permanently change their bodies and societal roles are inclined to self-describe themselves as ‘Transsexual’.  Some individuals in the transgender community only use transsexual to self-identify with respect to surgical change, as in pre-operative or post-operative.  Some postoperative transsexuals do not identify as part of the transgender community.

- Historical Western World


Eunuch - An individual born male but having testes removed (partial castration) or both penis and testes removed (full castration).  Given the association between castration and slavery in Byzantine and Ottoman Empires, it is not surprising that the term eunuch, is not favored in the modern world.

Castrato - In renaissance Italy, opera singers having testes removed before puberty to maintain soprano or alto singing voice  - usually dressed and presented as male, so not necessarily transgender or gender-non-conforming

Gallus or Gala - Cross-dressed and/or castrated males transformed into priestesses to various Goddesses in the Roman Empire.  Galli serving Cybele, the Great Mother and Protector of Rome, have the most written accounts surviving from the ancient world. The Galli were systematically exterminated during the 5th Century AD after Christianity was made the official religion of the Roman Empire.

Note that there are no historical terms known to the present day for female-to-male gender non-conforming individuals

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Jupiter Jone’s Agency: Character Development and Non-Violent Strength

I’ve wanted to write this as a full-fledged meta for quite a while and having just re-watched the film recently, now seems like a good time. 

LOTS of people have already commented on wether Jupiter Jones is a “strong” character or a “Mary Sue” or somehow “detrimental” to women’s attempts at positive representation in film. This is my own take on the issue, which can basically be summed up in two main statements: 

Jupiter Jones has a great deal of character development throughout the film. 

Jupiter Jones prizes violence only when it’s to defend herself or others. 

As I move through Jupiter Ascending, I want to focus in on these two points, as well as point out the numerous places where Jupiter demonstrates agency. I honestly believe that Jupiter appears “weak” to many viewers because she represents a type of female strength we’re not used to seeing on the big screen.  

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anonymous asked:

List of rational (NT) women??

Yes! I actually might make graphics for female rationals. But later. Another time. I have so many projects for this blog going at one time.

INTJ Women

Adventure Time, Flame Princess
Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Marvel’s, Raina
DC: The New 52, Batgirl
Doctor Who (2005 Series), Madame Vastra
Luther, Alice Morgan
Maleficent, Disney’s, Maleficent
Memoirs of a Geisha (2005), Chiyo/Sayuri
Parks and Recreation, Donna Meagle
Shannara Chronicles, The, Amberle Elessedil
Sleeping Beauty, Disney’s, Maleficent

INTP Women

Adventure Time, BMO
Alice in Wonderland, Disney’s, Alice
Big Bang Theory, The, Amy Farrah Fowler
Brave, Pixar’s, The Witch
DC: The New 52, Poison Ivy
Doctor Who (2005 Series), Osgood
Game of Thrones, Olenna Tyrell
Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling, Luna Lovegood
Hobbit, The, The Lord of the Rings, Galadriel
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
Mulan, Disney’s, Grandmother Fa
Mummy, The, Evelyn ‘Evy’ Carnahan
My Little Monster, Shizuku Mizutani
Once Upon a Time, Maleficent
One Piece, Nico Robin
Orange is the New Black, Poussey Washington
Ouran High School Host Club, Haruhi Fujioka
Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?, Velma Dinkley
Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory Maguire, Elphaba

ENTP Women

A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket, Violet Baudelaire
Arrested Development, Maeby Bluth
Atlantis: The Lost Empire, Disney’s, Princess ‘Kida’ Kidagakash
Attack On Titan, Hange Zoë  
Doctor Who (2005 Series), Missy
Doctor Who (2005 Series), River Song
Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling, Rita Skeeter
Midnight in Paris, Gertrude Stein
Mulan, Disney’s, Mulan
Orange is the New Black, Alex Vause
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Elizabeth Bennett
Simpsons, The, Lisa Simpson
Star Wars Series, Rey
Tudors, The, Anne Boleyn
Twin Peaks, Audrey Horne

ENTJ Women

100, The, Lexa
Adventure Time, Princess Bubblegum
Agent Carter, Marvel’s, Peggy Carter
Aristocats, Disney’s The, Marie
Avatar: Legend of Korra, Kuvira
Avatar: The Last Airbender, Azula
Big Bang Theory, The, Bernadette Rostenkowski
Bob’s Burgers, Louise Belcher
Community, Annie Edison
DC: The New 52, Amanda Waller
Doctor Who (2005 Series), Katie Lethbridge-Stewart
Doctor Who (2005 Series), Me “Ashildr”
Fairy Tail, Erza Scarlet
Galavant, Madalena
Gilmore Girls, Paris Gellar
Gotham, Fish Mooney
Hannibal, Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier
Hell on Wheels, Lily Bell
How to Get Away with Murder, Annalise Keating
Incredibles, Disney’s The, Edna Mode
Jurassic World, Claire
Maid-Sama, Misaki Ayuzawa
Memoirs of a Geisha (2005), Hatsumomo
Once Upon a Time, Regina Mills/The Evil Queen
Penny Dreadful, Evelyn Poole
Powerpuff Girls, The, Blossom
Pretty Little Liars, Spencer Hastings
Sherlock, BBC’s, Irene Adler
South Park, Wendy
Star Wars, Princess Leia
Teen Wolf, Lydia Martin
That ‘70s Show, Jackie Burkhart
Wolf Hall, Anne Boleyn
X-Files, The, Dana Scully

How to Know

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mention of sex not rlly tho

Prompt: hey! Can you do a Drabble where the reader is a new edition the avengers(she’s the team manager) and she likes Bucky but she doesn’t know that he likes her? Thanks so much!! Get it done whenever you can:)

Notes: Hey guys here’s a little request that someone send me it so thanks for that. MY CO-OWNER NEEDS YALL TO SEND HER REQUEST (if u read supernatural or doctor who that’s her speciality but she’s also willing to do marvel). Other then that here’s the request hope u enjoy and have a great and safe day. (Ps I’ll Add gifs later)

Persona: female (I tried to make it for both genders as possible sorry.)

Keep reading

Things to remember:

• mutsuki tooru is canonically trans
• he’s masculine presenting and uses he/him
• he’s uncomfortable being perceived as female
• the fact that he was abused doesn’t make his identity any less valid (idk why this is so hard for people to understand)
• if mutsuki decides to identify as female later on in :re, that’s cool and awesome (because gender is fluid) but he currently IS NOT identifying as female
• regardless of any cultural differences, Mutsuki literally presents as male, so he’s male.
• also “cultural differences” my ass, trans japanese people exist
• he might be “just a fictional character” but he’s very realistic and relatable for a lot of trans people (especially abuse victims)
• why do y'all keep looking for reasons to be transphobic? do you really hate trans people that much or ?

This is so surreal.

The last time I saw two amazing, well-written queer female characters finally kiss/make love, it was instantly tainted seconds later by devastation. I haven’t been able to watch that scene since I first saw it on march 3rd, because it’s just paired with pain. 

The Wayhaught kiss in the barn wasn’t even a love scene. But it brought similar tenderness, and desperation, and love. Definitely a sort of intimacy that I’ve rarely seen in w/w representation. I just keep watching it over and over, and am still completely stunned that I can keep this moment? I get to watch this. My w/w ship kissed, and nothing bad happened, and I can watch that scene without feeling sick? Forever? Even if something bad happens to Nicole or Waverly later on, that scene will never = sadness. 

I kept watching that scene over, and wondering why it felt so strange. And it was really only then that I realised just how unknowingly deep the effect the 1OO has had on me… It literally felt foreign to me, to see two women kissing and not associate it with pain, or fear. 

… idk..fucked up. so fucked up. That is literally conditioning. That is basically the entire premise of the 1930′s Hays code. Pair homosexual acts with negative consequences = associating homosexuality with badness. I can’t believe The 1OO has made me SHOCKED that I can actually sit through a w/w intimate scene, and come out the other side emotionally intact.