men are so unfair!

I just want guys to be able to say I love you instead of this weird meaningful silence and then a hug with a back pat….like let boys say I love you casually. Let them say ‘love you’ when they hang up the phone. Let them say 'love you, be safe’ when saying goodbye to each other. Let them tease each other with 'you know you love me’. Let boys greet each other with real hugs instead of those one armed things. Just let boys show each other affection. Let boys be as soft and sweet as they want.

why do these conversations always go like this

“I wish men and women were treated equally.”


“….. dude i meant like…… employment opportunities, the wage gap, beauty standards in media, and, like, pocket sizes in jeans. why do you want to beat women so fucking badly.”

Kalagang one-shot: The girl who was free and the in-between boy

Kala noticed the handsome white man before Devi had pointed him out, rather excitedly, she might add. His hair was as light as hers dark and was as short and neat as hers was long and unruly. His eyes were blue in a way she couldn’t seem to understand and she often found herself wanting to and then, wondering why she wanted to. 

He always sat at the same table in her father’s restaurant and always ordered the same thing. Garlic Naan and tandoori chicken. She found it rather amusing, the way his eyes teared up because the food was too spicy and the way he never drank any water despite it. Maybe he was pushing himself to his limits, trying to prove something to someone, though she couldn’t comprehend why someone would need to, especially since there was no one with him and that it was just tandoori chicken. Probably, one of ‘those men don’t cry’ things she found so abhorrently unfair and sexist. Yet, she couldn’t seem to believe in that. She shouldn’t be thinking about him so much. And yet…

He was always alone. At first, she thought that he was waiting for someone. Indians rarely ate alone. It was considered inauspicious, or rude, or something to that effect. She hadn’t bothered asking before but suddenly, she wished she had. Then at least she would know the tug at her chest every time she saw him that way. Maybe she just wasn’t used to the sight. She wanted to chalk it up a foreign culture she didn’t know about, but as the days went by and he repeatedly sat at the same table, ordering the same food, not drinking any water, not speaking to anyone, unbearably blue eyes, now a little red-rimmed, searching for nothing and no one, she just couldn’t possibly believe he was anything other than excruciatingly lonely. She shouldn’t interfere. And yet…

Wolfgang noticed the girl staring at him, unabashedly, before she started staring. It also might or might not be the reason why he was there in the first place. It rained a lot in Mumbai. Not like the rain in Berlin either. It was warm and wet, like he was stepping into a new world, not quite out of the old one yet. He was in-between. In-between houses, in-between jobs, in-between life. He didn’t know what he was doing. He’d packed up a small duffel bag of clothes, and left Berlin for Mumbai on a whim. At first, he was happy leaving his asshole father behind. He’d promised Felix he would be back soon. He just had to do something. The problem was, he had no idea what that something was. It was stupid, but he felt like he was coming to India for a higher purpose. Nothing spiritual. He didn’t believe in that sort of thing. Just something that would calm the soul. Leave him feeling like something other than the fucking mess he was. What a bunch of bullshit, that was. It had been a week since he’d arrived and nothing happened. He wasn’t exactly expecting something to happen but he was still disappointed. He liked India. It was colourful in ways Berlin wasn’t. Everything was extreme in India. The food, the music, the people. He wanted it to set him on edge. To make him feel something, do something. But he discovered, he wasn’t doing as much as watching. And he was getting lonely. Even in the shit-fest that was his life, he had Felix. Maybe he should return to Berlin. He would still be extremely mortified by the uncertainty of life, but he wouldn’t be so damn lonely. 

And then, he saw her. Walking into the restaurant, hair unruly, a wild smile on her face, shaking the raindrops from her hair. She was beautiful in a way that felt like a punch to the throat. So, he kind of followed her. It sounds creepier than it was. He was actually pretty hungry and the food smelt good and it was raining pretty hard. The warm rain had lost its charm a while ago. Now he was just wet and hungry. So he ordered the same thing he’d been ordering since his arrival. He thought the food was satisfactory and he wasn’t risking anything else. The food arrived and he dug in, spying on the girl through the corner of his eye. There was something so free about her. The way she smiled without meaning to and not caring to correct it. The way she laughed louder than probably socially acceptable. She was free. He was jealous in a way. Here he was, all the way across the world and he couldn’t bring himself to laugh or even smile. Not even in the sardonic way he used to back in Berlin. So, he stuffed his face with food. It was much spicier than he’d expected. To his horror, his eyes started to tear up. He almost reached for his water but he stopped himself. It was his father’s voice in his head, telling him how weak he was being. It was so stupid, he should just drink the water. But he couldn’t bring himself to. So, he finished it all, without touching his glass of water, mouth on fire, sweat streaming down his face mixing with the tears and water. At least, he finally felt something. He still couldn’t believe he had let his father get to him like this. Never again. He planned to leave the next day and then, he hear her laugh again and it’s like a kind of music he could never hope to forget. So, he came back, the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.

Kala found herself walking towards his table before she had time to convince herself otherwise. He looked up at her, startled. His fair eyebrows arched a little like he was expecting an explanation but she sat down, right opposite of him, offering none. 

“The food isn’t that spicy today. I made it myself,” she said as Ramu Chacha placed the plates on his table. “Thanks Chacha.” She beamed at the old man, who grinned back. She looked up at the man, wide blue eyes looking slightly panicked. She almost wanted to tell him that he should have a glass of water or something, but that would be mean and he didn’t strike her as the masochistic type she thought he was. He just looked slightly embarrassed.  

“We’ve been getting complaints of the food being too spicy,” she clarified even though she didn’t need to. 

“Thank you for telling me, then.” His accent was clipped and clear. German, she thought. He smiled gratefully. It’s a tentative smile but it’s one that transformed his whole face and made him seem so much younger and so beautiful. It left her slightly speechless. How can one smile do that?

“Why don’t you do that more often?” She asked, trying not to be embarrassed at how breathless she sounded.

“Do what?”

“Smile. I’ve never seen you smile.” The man seemed a little taken aback. He probably wasn’t used to such directness. But that’s how Kala always was. Direct and honest to a fault. It led to a lot of awkward situations but it cleared the air and saved a lot of time. 

“Been watching me a lot, huh?” He smiled again but this time, it was mischievous. One side of his mouth was tilted upwards and his eyes glimmer in a way that sent her heart erratic. This was new and scary. But Kala couldn’t do anything if not keep up.

“Just as much as you’ve been watching me.” Kala wasn’t blind. She noticed him staring but she didn’t expect the thrill of pleasure it had given her when she first found out. She found herself grinning back at him, the same way he was. Was she flirting? It was odd to think that she even knew how to. She hadn’t done it before. But it all felt a little natural. At least with him it did. 

He chuckled and Kala was surprised at how she disappointed she was when he stopped. The urge to hear it again overtook her. 

“I’m Kala.” 


And then, they were grinning at each other like a pair of idiots. Like they just shared the world’s biggest secret. There was a kind of joy in this moment. One that she hadn’t known before. She didn’t think she ever wanted the moment to end. So she talked, and she listened and he talked, and he listened and the moment went on and on, the same joy coating the air around them, making time itself, stop.

Wolfgang repeats her name again and again in his head. He loved the sound. He used her name in conversation every time he could. The two syllables roll around in his mouth, sweet and new. He was surprised, to say the least. Everything about her was magical. Her voice, the words she spoke, the way she seemed to know him. Every time she laughed he felt like she was sharing something precious with him. It was unbelievable. The closest to a spiritual awakening he was ever going to get.

“Your food’s getting cold.” She glanced down at the half-eaten chicken as he looked at it like he was just noticing it in the first place.

“The food’s delicious by the way,” he said as he took another bite. It actually was good. It was considerably less spicy and he was infinitely grateful for that. He couldn’t imagine dribbling down the nose in front of a beautiful girl like her. Although this time, he was pretty sure he would’ve just drank the goddamn water. She smiled at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking about and again he was struck by how she responded to everything he said or did. Like, she actually know how to and even more than that, like she actually wanted to.

“Speaking of food, why do you order the same thing every day? Papa gets really bored in there, you know?” He chuckled, but her face remained impassively curious.

“You know, I like it. It’s,” He paused, “safe.” He concluded. She snorted, and goddamn him, if it wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever heard.

“You didn’t strike me as the safe type.”

“Sometime, I am. But I’m not all the time,” He voice was low and extremely suggestive. Wolfgang wasn’t a good enough person to say that he did not enjoy the way she flushed or the way skin beneath her neck turned pink.

“Well,” she finally said, recovering commendably, “that’s just downright boring.” Wolfgang couldn’t help the smile that took over his face, or the way his heart seemed too large for his chest. When was the last time he was so happy? He couldn’t recall.

“You have to try the palak paneer and the kurma and kebabs, and enough of naan, for god’s sake. Try some parathas instead. Oh! You haven’t even tried the sweets!” 

“I can’t have them all in one day, can I?” Wolfgang responded, thoroughly amused. He wasn’t so amused anymore when she leaned across the table so that her eyes were level with his and so close, their breaths mingled. She smelled like mint and he was suddenly really regretting ordering the garlic naan. But their proximity was dizzying and it was hard to think of much else when he was constantly avoiding looking at her lips too long, lest the urge he had had to kiss her the entire time, becomes too strong. He couldn’t believe he was actually nervous. He was a grown man, scared of being too close to a girl he liked. And despite her confident front, she seemed just as nervous as he was.

“I guess you’d have to keep coming back, then,” She breathed as she leaned back in her seat, smiling at him hopefully.

So, maybe he was in-between houses, and jobs and life in general. But this was the one thing he could get right. The magic. The one between them. The freedom to just be. The happiness he felt and could feel again with her. The chance at life he’d always wished. The potential for something good. This was it. He had to get it right. He couldn’t bear not to. He returned the same smile, filled to the brim with hope.

“Oh, I intend to.” 

  • anti-sjws: these SJWs are so unfair!! they blame men and duh patriarchy for everything!! it's so unrealistic: how are men at fault for half the things they say they are??? top kek checkmate
  • anti-sjws: uhm obviously SJWs are the reason this anime character's outfit doesn't have the exact same print that it did in the manga, spend a day on tumblr and it's pretty obvious

am i the only one that thinks its unfair that men or straight people can just like, say the word lesbian ? when i had to grapple with that word as a descriptor for my self for my entire life ? like finally coming to terms with that word that people only ever spit onto the faces of the most undesirable, reproachful, overly- and -de-sexualized, abhorrent excuse for a human being is an act of reclaiming it. when i identify myself as a lesbian, i run the risk of equating myself with what people use that word to mean, but i also do so as a political act of making Good what was made from the beginning to be Bad. can you imagine the strength it takes to stand by something in a positive light that was introduced to you derogatorily, exclusively used derogatorily, still to this day used derogatorily against you ? and the fact that men or straight people can just, easily do that feels so unfair to me.

what she says: im fine 

what shes thinking: the clones were treated horribly by the republic and yet its rarely pointed out. they are human beings but grow up being taught that theyre only tools in a war and that theyre all expendable. theyre not given names, its something they have to come up with themselves, they only get numbers to further the fact that theyre just “tools in a war” a war which they are forced into joining because they’re “bred to be warriors” and get no actual say in it. if they do anything “bad” like say they dont agree with whats happening or if they just want to get away theyre considered “defective” and either get executed or get some shitty job somewhere else. its so unfair and outright cruel and these men deserve so much better