pure woman and man

liberal tweeter has to stop being confused that christian conservatives and fascists think sexual assault is fine when they do it, literally the ideology is that like the Ideal Man has earned access to the (Pure) Woman as a national resource, when they have a problem w violence against women by liberal men it’s about the men being undeserving and not on their side

So I guess we are still going with the “JB is gross because it’s the Good Woman fixes Bad Man trope!!!”

Now, I will admit, this is an argument that has stumped me for a while, because even though I realize instinctively that this is not the case, Brienne has been one of the major factors that contributed to Jaime’s identity arc. So, where exactly is the falsehood here? And then it clicked.

At no point did Brienne embark on a campaign to make Jaime “a better person”. Literally. Never once. What Brienne did, was call out Jaime for his shittiness from the first moment they met, dish out insults about his honor as good as she got, and not give an inch even when he attempted politeness. Even after hearing his bathtub confession, she simply started using his name instead of calling him Kingslayer, but continued to be guarded and distant. Hell, she even thought he was asking ger to kill Sansa, when the guy was trying to give her Oathkeeper to protect her. It was only after that, that Brienne began to truly warm up to Jaime, and by that point they weren’t together anymore. The closest she ever got to trying to “change/fix” him was when she called him craven for wanting to die, and spurred him to snap out of it and make an effort to live. That’s it. For the duration of their journey together, Brienne never once tried to make Jaime a better person, she just constantly reminded him that he was a profoundly bad one.

So, what happened? Because, like I said above, Brienne is undeniably one of the cornerstones on which Jaime’s character development was built. But the beauty of it, and the reason that, for me, it escaped sexist tropes, was that Jaime did it all on his own. He decided to help her deal with an imminent rape the same way he dealt with Aerys. He decided to lie through his teeth twice to then save her from it. He decided to come back for her. He decided to jump into that bear pit. He decided to offer her a place in the City Guard, he decided to try to comfort her after the Red Wedding, he decided to give her a priceless sword and treat her as the knight she always wanted to be, all him, all the time. And for all of them, he was then met with either outright hostility or, at best, reserved politeness. Brienne never went down the “oooh my misunderstood bb i knew you had it in you to be gud!!!!” road. Jaime was never “fixed” by her kindness, or her effort, or her support. What Jaime was actually fixed by, was her example.

Because you see, the boy that had wanted to be Ser Arthur Dayne, but someplace along the way he had become the Smiling Knight instead, was a profoundly jaded man by the start of ASoS, that suddenly comes across a person that embodies everything he wanted to be when he was young. That person then rejects him so thoroughly, that he actually feels the need to share his innermost secret, the thing that defines his character and he has never once shared in 14 years, because he craves her validation. As a knight, and as an honorable woman, not as a romantic partner. And after that, after he unburdens himself, starts the domino effect. Brienne does nothing, materially, besides being someone who encapsulates everything he wanted to be, and shoving in his face with her mere presence how much he failed. Jaime doesn’t do those things because he wants to be with Brienne. He does them because he wants to be Brienne. Combining that with his year-long captivity that forces him to reflect instead of deny, and the loss of his hand, Jaime finally finds the incentive within himself to make a positive change. 

In the Bad Trope, the loss of the pure female influence usually makes the male douchebag relapse back into his awful ways, because hey, she’s not there to be impressed anymore (see: Delena in tvd). Contrast that with Jaime actually trying to become a better LC, a better influence on Tommen, and rejecting Cersei’s more paranoid requests, even though Brienne is long gone. She’s not there to be the “angel on his shoulder” anymore. Yet he doesn’t regress. He doesn’t relapse. He does it for himself, not for her. 

And while we’re at that, Jaime does the exact same for Brienne. He appears in her life at a point where her morality is strictly black-and-white, and shows her that people are not always what they appear, and that there are shades of grey you can’t imagine at first glance. Jaime aids Brienne’s character development as much as she aids his, and then they go their own ways to further build on it. Brienne encounters many people on the road that challenge her view of the world even further, and is eventually faced with the horrifying revelation that the kind-hearted Catelyn Stark who she revered for treating her as a knight has now turned into Lady Stoneheart, a dead husk filled with hatred and revenge that wants to kill her. This will undoubtedly send Brienne into a moral tailspin, and she will certainly come out of it a changed woman. So you see, Jaime plants the first seed, and then she grows from there by herself. Jaime and Brienne’s journey was never just about Jaime, and Brienne was never his prop. Sometimes people have an impact on each other, without it falling into tired sexist tropes. And I think that’s beautiful.

tl;dr JB is not about “Pure Woman Fixing Damaged Man”, Brienne certainly influenced Jaime, but he pulled himself up by his bootstraps and got where he is first and foremost for himself.

  • Mitsunari: You believe me?
  • MC: Mitsunari, you’re the last good person on this planet. I’d believe cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.

what makes me so emotional about steve’s sacrifice isn’t just because he was a selfless hero or that he had to say goodbye to diana too soon but really because he ultimately showed diana that her mission was worth completing. she was about ready to give up and believe in ares and that these lowly humans dont deserve to be saved or served by a wonder woman, and then this pure kind man comes in and shows them that humans can deserve it.
i like to think that they restored their faith in humanity in each other and it’s just this otp makes me (ノД`)

youtube

Comic dub of Overwatch fancomics by @c-reampeach - featuring the voices of Tiana Camacho as Pharah and Mercy, @hnilmik as Sombra, @totalspiffage as Widowmaker, and myself as Reaper and Meaningless Whispers from the Heart! Oh wow. So here we are. 100 Overwatch AWNN comic dubs. Woof.

I’d like to thank all the comic artists who kindly granted me permission to dub their comics! @kpfightmaster, @luoiae and @realinternetwizard were the first three I asked and doing the dubs on their comics was pretty much what kickstarted the whole Overwatch AWNN series! @dogtit, @disteal, @dilfosaur and @robohero are my frequent collaborators and I’m sure I can probably start an entire playlist dedicated to comic dubs I’ve made of their fantastic work! There are even more artists to name who helped me reached 100 Overwatch AWNN comic dub videos!: @tiki-punch, @electricbunnycomics, @ghostpeppermint, aatkaw, izra (on Deviantart), @artbytesslyn, @overblotch, nedmd, @gunnslaughter (my first dramatic, onion-cutting ninja’d Overwatch AWNN!), @chloerozo, @superrisu (through whose work I first discovered the wider Overwatch fancomic artists’ community in the first place!), @badpearl (“Bonjour from the Other Side” was not the first songdub for Overwatch AWNN but it was definitely the most involved to do!), @trixdraws, @scatterarrow, @macdobleve, @burpingstars, @lunapocalypse, @singultus, @tsundernova, @grapeykins (whose comic I dubbed for the 50th Overwatch AWNN for the SADFACE TIMES), @m-u-n-c-h-y, @ruby-universe-artblog (first time an artist actually asked me to dub a comic of theirs!), @thesweetreaper, @impastanoodle, @legmageddon, @dinochoobs, @nikanono, @trin0dinz, @thepigeongazette, @samsationals, @pirikko, @lifewhatisthat, @karniz, @yahoberries, @dasixthmonth, @akapost and finally @c-reampeach, whose comic dubs made the 100th Overwatch AWNN! Thank you to all the artists I have worked with thus far, here’s to working with you again, and also to working with new artists in the future!

I’d also like to thank my voice actors for sticking with me on this journey! Tamara was with me from the very beginning, and if she hadn’t said yes to playing Tracer and Widowmaker in those very first dubs, there wouldn’t have been even ONE Overwatch AWNN, much less the 99 that came after that first one! Kimlinh (D.Va and Sombra) and Tiana (Mercy, Pharah and Ana) came aboard not long after and these wonderful actresses acted as my longest term collaborators, without whom some of the best, most unexpected sources of joy in the Overwatch AWNN series would not exist (ie the mating call of the Sombra, and the murder cry of the Mercy amongst other vocal utterances)! From there we just kept picking up great voice actor after great voice actor to fill the roster of wonderful characters in the Overwatch AWNN world: @mikeveedub (Junkrat and Roadhog), @dreamwalkertara (Emily), @lightgetsout (McCree), James Brown Jr (Lucio, who unfortunately was not able to send a recording in for the 100th Overwatch AWNN), Elsie Lovelock (Efi and Orisa), @missrinachan (Mei) and Kamran Nikhad (Doomfist)! Thank you all for coming along with me on this here ride, and here’s to many more dubs!

And finally, I’d like to thank YOU, dearest viewer whom I may on occasion refer to as Omahbuddy or Omahdarlin’ or Bromahdon (choose one, if you will)! Seriously, I don’t think I would have gotten this far without you; this was supposed to be a fun little diversion from depression and ennui (and continues to be so!), but look at what’s happened in just a year! A hundred of these videos! My subscriber count has blown up to 70k+! AND I’ve had two of my videos hit over a million views! That’s mad crazy, yo. Thank you so much. You’re my Omahbuddy/Omahdarlin’/Bromahdon, you magnificent specimen of a man/woman/non-binary being of pure awesome!

Anyway. Here’s to a hundred more…? We’ll see! Mayhaps other projects are in the works, hon hon hon~!

If you enjoyed that, why not support me on ko-fi or watch some of my other comic dubs?

The Meeting (Malec Fanfic)

Magnus Bane was early for his important meeting, and by early he meant five minutes early. This left him the perfect amount of time for a cup of coffee before the long, tedious warlock gathering he had to attend. Usually he enjoyed attending a warlock council but not today, he wasn’t in the mood. He hasn’t seen Alexander in almost three days as he was being buried alive in paperwork from the clave during the day and then his night patrols. Magnus himself had been hectically busy, just last night he had delivered twelve various viles and bottles of potions around the country, it seemed like everyone and their mother needed his help this week. Magnus poured his coffee into his favourite mug and took a sip, he concentrated on the thought that in about six hours or so he should be free and he fully intended on portalling outside the institute and holding a boom box up outside Alec’s office window if he didn’t see him soon. He smiled at the thought and then jumped slightly from his thoughts when his wards trembled and Alec himself rushed through the door.

“Alexander!” Magnus beamed in surprise as his gorgeous, lanky Shadowhunter crossed the kitchen to him.

“Good.” Alec nodded seriously “I thought you might have left already.”

Before Magnus could even respond Alec had enveloped him. The kiss was searing and Magnus couldn’t help the pitiful moan that left his throat. He was caught off guard, his hands didn’t know what to do with themselves for a split second; when his body caught up with his brain he wrapped his arms tightly around his love. Alec had one hand secured around the back of his neck holding their kiss together.

When tedious things like needing air got in their way Alec pulled back and released him into a more gentle grasp.

“I thought I was going to be too late to see you.” Alec said as he tried to catch his breath.

Magnus was conflicted, right now he wanted nothing more than to take Alec to bed and show him how much he’d missed him but he really should be leaving…

“Missed you…” Magnus said as common sense lost and his mouth sought out Alec’s jaw.

Alec groaned and rolled their hips together. “Missed you more.”

Magnus tried to say ‘impossible’ but Alec attached his lips once more, he sucked hard on Magnus’ bottom lip and Magnus picked him up and set him on the counter top.
Parting their mouthes once more Magnus pressed a hand to Alec’s chest and pushed him flat out onto the counter top. He felt Alec’s legs wrap around his ass, his combat boots pinning him closer.

‘Magnus.’ Alec all but whimpered and the warlock pushed his black tee shirt up toward his rib cage. He ran his tongue from his chest right down to Alec’s dark happy trail, dipping it into his navel on the way.
His hands roughly unbuckled the strong belt on Alec’s jeans and he popped the button, ripping the zip open too. Alec wiggled under him and he yanked the jeans and boxers down ever so slightly, stopping at the base of Alec’s cock.
Magnus took a second to admire this Adonis, Alec’s tight muscles were flexing as he heaved his breath in and out. His head was thrown back exposing his long neck and that perfect deflect rune that Magnus loved to trace with his tongue. He was so happy, so in love and lust with this shadowhunter of his.
Getting back to the job at hand Magnus kissed his way from the happy trail down to that beautiful V of his hips. He dragged his lips up and down, gently inhaling that classic 'Alexander scent’ he couldn’t put his finger on what it was but it was pure sex. No man or woman ever had this effect on Magnus. He was obsessed with that Alec scent.
He has just began to mouth the bass of Alec’s cock when the younger man began to half heartedly object.
“Wait. Magnus, ugh. Wait” Alec groaned

“Hmm?” Magnus asked as he ran his nose back up towards Alec’s belly button.

“By the angel, I can’t believe I’m bringing this up…” Alec began

“Then don’t” Magnus smirked before he pressed a quick kiss to Alec’s flat stomach, he then straightened up and looked him in the eye

“- BUT…” Alec continued as he ran his hands down Magnus’ broad shoulders “… don’t you have the council meeting this morning?”

Dammit. Alec was right, and Magnus was pissed.
“I’m only a few minutes late.” He tried to reason “five minutes more… I’ll say there was a fire message.” He leaned in and tried to capture Alec’s lips again

“Do you really think I’ll be finished with you in five minutes?” Alec said quietly against Magnus’ lips and Magnus has a hard time remembering how to breathe.

“What are you trying to do to me Alexander Lightwood?” Magnus moaned putting their foreheads together.

Alec laughed a little “I’m trying to get you to go to your meeting so you can come home to me as soon as possible.”

“Fine.” Magnus said dramatically as he let go of Alec and stepped away. “I’ll go.”

Alec rolled his eyes before he hopped down from the counter, he picked up Magnus’ discarded mug of coffee and took a sip. “Ugh. Cold.” He shuddered

“Why are you drinking black coffee, darling?” Magnus asked as he put his coat on. “You need to sleep.”

“How do you expect me to sleep now?” Alec asked, raising one perfect eyebrow

“Sleep.” Magnus said as he gave him a chaste kiss, goodbye.

Alec nodded and threw himself down onto the couch. Magnus meant in bed but he was still happy to see Alec relax, even if it was just on his couch.

Magnus waved his arms and opened himself a portal.

“Hurry back to me.” Alec’s muffled voice came from under a cushion. He already sounded half asleep and Magnus smiled. “Love you.” It tailed off.

“I love you, Alexander.” Magnus said gently before he stepped into the portal. He wasn’t even sure Alec was awake enough to hear him; he smiled.

@kalex-corner have a look! Just because it’s you. This are just little parts that I like so far but let me know what you think :P

@soul-wanderer This is what I’ve been writing. The thing I sent you a pic of. So after the huge amount of pain you made me endure this morning, have a read I guess. Just so you know that I love you indeed *clutches chest and cries dramatically…in Spanish.*


It’s not the first time she has to deal with something like this but, Alex wishes this is the last. To be honest, she knows it won’t. Superman doesn’t know when to shut up and his words always manage to get into Supergirl’s nerves. In the end, Alex is the one dealing with the aftermath of their battles. She’s getting tired of the Man of Steel and if Kara doesn’t do anything about it, Alex will.


Alex knows that Kal-El doesn’t mean any harm to his cousin but it’s funny how he talks about being “Stronger Together” when he left, abandoned, Kara with the Danvers without looking back. Really, it’s a funny thing how he appeared back into her life when Kara decided to be a hero but refused to follow his steps.


Kara is not all rainbows and Sunshine even when her facade is giggles and awkwardness. That’s a fake persona, the image Kara built to protect herself. That is an image of light born from darkness and pain. That is what everyone sees because Kara doesn’t want them to look deeper. She won’t let them get too close and know just how sad she truly is.

Kara is not a Danvers. Kara Zor-El is not hope and happiness. She can’t be because every time she closes her eyes she sees her world exploding and her life ending. Earth’s sun gives her abilities that go far beyond anyone’s imagination. They’re amazing and yet, when Kara flies above the clouds and looks at the stars, she’s able to find the black spot where her planet used to be.

Krypton is not longer part of the Universe but it still belongs to Kara. She’s broken, shattered and the pain won’t go away. She’s the last daughter of Krypton but that feels like a lie on Earth. Kara Danvers is a lie; a mask, always hiding, always scared of being her true self. Kara Zor-El is a memory, the past. She’s from Krypton, the lone survivor of a tragedy. Kara is lost.


Kara is an alien that stands out for all the things that don’t make her Kryptonian. She didn’t have powers back home. Those very same powers won’t let her forget, won’t let her be human enough. Her powers, extraordinaire as they were, gave her the chance to do everything she never wanted to do.


No one could ask Kara to follow her dreams when all of them became nightmares.


Supergirl wasn’t a hero because Kara wanted to be one. Kara couldn’t afford to lose yet another world, another home. She couldn’t lose Alex. Saving the plane was the beginning but her choice was born from fear. Being a hero was the best thing Kara could be on Earth.


“What are you making?“

“Your favorite.“

“You’re my favorite.“

“I’m glad because if you decided to pick Kal, I would kick your butt.“


Kara lips are soft but demanding when they kiss her. She’s asking for everything Alex has to offer, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip and hands around her waist, keeping her close. As close as they can be.

Alex gives herself completely, without reservations, because there’s no one else she trusts more. She offers another little piece of her heart and soul with every kiss and touch and hopes that Kara takes it. She lets Kara take everything she wants while she buries her own  fingers on blonde hair and finds her place there.

Kara kisses her with so much love but also with longing, like they didn’t kiss just a few hours ago before Supergirl went on patrol. Kara kisses her with fear and a side of desperation because she can’t lose Alex. Not now. Not ever. And she’s afraid of losing Alex after every kiss.

They belong together, and together; they’re home.

Roommates

Word count: 3,403

Warning: smut

Request: You and Kai share the same room in your apartment and when Damon finds out, he gets super angry, but one night, you and Kai become more than just roommates

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Kai asked, dragging his suitcases through the front doors and placing them in the corner not too far from them.

‘Of course! It’s the least I can do.’ You said through a smile and helped him with his jacket, placing it neatly on the couch.

'Your friends won’t be too thrilled about me staying here.’ He sat down on the couch next to you, almost as if he was afraid of -you-, the person who has been there for him when no one else was.

'Well, I don’t care what they do when I’m not around so you staying here and who I am hanging out with shouldn’t be their problem.’ You trailed off, sipping a warm cocoa and lifted you eyebrows, a smile appearing on Kai’s face. He took off his sneakers and crossed his leg on the couch, his elbows laying on his thighs.

'I can’t argue with that, can I.’

'I promise I’m a fun person to hang out with, but the only problem is, I only have one bedroom in this apartment. My room.’ You said, Kai’s smile suddenly disappearing from his face. He looked down at his fingers and start tapping on his leg, getting a bit nervous and slightly disappointed as he didn’t know what to expect.

'So, I’ll just then- um- take the couch, I guess.’ He got up and went to his suitcase as he opened it and started looking for something.

'You can take my room.’ He stopped for a second and turned his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours.

'Where will you sleep?’ He asked, his brows furrowing.

'In my room.’ You said confidently and casually sipped your covoa again before placing the glass back on the table.

'I’m super confused right now.’ He furrowed his brows again and chuckled, sitting back down on the couch next to you.

'You can sleep with me. I mean- on the bed. I’m- you know- sleep as in dreaming, not sleep as in- oh you get the point.’ He started laughing because of how you blushed. Your thoughts went there unintentionally and Kai knew exactly what you meant, but decided not to say anything. He just shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands up as if he was surrendering, but couldn’t hide a smile on his face. You burried your head in your hands and chuckled, feeling embarrassed.

'It’s fine, I know what you meant.’ Kai said through laugh and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it a little bit.

'Unless you want to sleep on the couch, then, I’ll understand.’

'No, no, I’ll gladly, um, sleep with you.’ He trailed off and started laughing louder than before.

'Shut up.’ You punched his arm playfully and started laughing as well, burrying your head in your hands again as you felt his arms wrapping around you and pulling you in for a hug.

Knowing that you’ll have a person who was practically your best friend as a roommate was very relaxing because you knew the person you would have to share your apartment with was worth it and that you could trust him.

3 months later

Every day with Kai has been super fun and you got along fantastically. There were no arguments or disagreements. It was just as you thought it would be and having Kai beside you was great, but as you spent more and more time with him, you started getting feelings for him. You have seen the side that no one else has and it only made you care for him even more. He was fun to be around and everytime he pulled you into a hug, you felt shivers rolling down your spine. You thought it was purely man and woman friendship, but one night, both of you drank a little too much and made out, but he somehow managed to stop himself from taking it any further even though you wouldn’t have been mad if you went all the way. Since that day, your feelings for Kai have been extremely strong and that included sexual ones. You couldn’t help but stare at him every time he walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist while the water drops kept rolling down his toned torso. Your gaze fell directly down to the beautiful v-line that was exposed to your eyes, your imagination going wild every time. The way he ran his fingers through his wet hair had made your body tingle and you couldn’t help but think what would it be like to run your fingers through his wet hair. You have spent a lot of time walking around the apartment in your underwear and a loose crop top, hoping he would make a move eventually, but he was holding back way better than you.

You were laying on the couch and working on your laptop when ou heard a knock on the front doors, making you jump a bit at a sudden thump noise as you were deeply focusing on your work.

'Come in!’ You shouted and kept still for a few second just to see who will walk through the doors.

'Oh, hey Damon! And- Elena. What can I help you with?’ You closed the laptop and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. You got up and walked towards them, hugging them both.

'We just came to ask you if you want to join us and Bonnie for dinner.’ Elena trailed off as Damon kept looking around your apartment, but his eyes glued to a black shirt on the floor.

'Yeah, sure. I don’t have plans.’ You smiled and gathered up your hair into a high ponytail.

'Is someone here with you?’ Damon asked befuddledly as he lifted up a black shirt of the floor, reaching his hand out towards you. You took a shirt from his hand and folded it neatly before placing it down on the couch behind you.

'Um- actually yes, but it’s nothing you should worry about.’

'Then who’s shirt is that? I assume it’s not yours because that’s a men’s shirt and-’

'Why do you want to know who it belongs to? Don’t you think it’s a little bit too much to interfere with my privacy so freaking much? I never do that to you.’ You said it with a lot of annoyance in your voice.

'Why is it so hard to answer such a simple question?’ Damon kept going and everytime he asked a new question, he got closer and kept throwing questions in your face. He has always been like that because even though you haven’t spend a lot of time with alone, he always wanted to know everything about your life.

'It’s Kai’s shirt. Happy?’ You blurted out and plopped yourself down on the couch and crossed your arms, unable to hide how annoyed and angry you were with him for it.

'Kai? As in Kai Parker?’ Elena asked and furrowed her brows, a little bit of disgust in her voice.

'Exactly. The one and only, Malachai Parker.’

'You’ve been sleeping with the enemy? Seriously? After everything he has done to us, you just decide to jump into bed with him and let him fuck your brains out?’ Damon raised his voice, anger roaming through his entire body. You rolled your eyes at his words and sighed heavily as you stood up of the couch and marched towards him, ready to say everything that was on your mind.

'You know what? I-’ At that moment, front doors flunged open, Kai standing still. 'This is what sleeping with the enemy looks like.’ You ran towards Kai and threw yourself into his arms as he instantly picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. You cupped his face and smashed your lips with his, his tongue instantly slipping into your mouth. The longer you were kissing him, the longer you wanted it to last. It was completely different from the previous drunken kiss. You somehow managed to pull away and jump down, trying to catch your breath from a heated kiss that had just happened.

'You’re unbelievable.’ Elena said angrily, her hands still on her waist.

'I know.’ You grabbed Kai’s arm and started dragging him behind you as you stopped and turned around after a few moments. 'Also, if you want to stay here, you better put some music on because it’s about to get pretty loud in here.’ You winked at them and led Kai to your room, slamming the doors behind you. You leaned your back on the doors and threw your head back, your breathing still fast and shallow. You listened carefully and just a few seconds later, you heard the doors slamming shut, meaning that Damon and Elena have left your apartment, leaving you and Kai alone. You started laughing, but Kai’s face expression remained serious.

'Did you really mean that out there?’ Kai asked nervously.

'Which part?’

'About sleeping with me?’

'Oh. No, that was just- I was joking to get Damon off my back.’ You chuckled and quickly fixed your hair.

'Oh.’ Disappointment has taken over Kai’s face as he swallowed hard and shoved his hands into his jeans. 'I- um- I’ll just hop in the shower. It won’t be long.’ He trailed off and made a few quick steps as he reached the bathroom and closed the doors behind him, the sound of doors locking echoing through the room. You wiped a smile off your face and took a deep breath, feeling disappointed for rejecting him. In fact, you did wanted it. More than anything. You have never felt so frustrated in your life as in that moment and the kiss that you and Kai had shared has only made you hungry for more. A sound of water running filled your ears as a picture of Kai naked flashed through your mind. You couldn’t stop imagining how his fingers must have traced his body, washing the soap off, water running down his naked body as you felt yourself getting wet down there.

15 minutes later

You propped yourself up off the bed when you heard the doors opening, shirtless Kai stepping into the room wearing his black briefs, that always outlined his lower half so perfectly. You swallowed hard and managed to lift your gaze up off his manhood.

'What are you watching?’ He asked and ran his long fingers through his hair, a few drops falling down on his torso, rolling down to his boxers. He plopped himself down on the bed next to you and crossed his legs, his eyes glued to a movie.

'Just some- movie- I- I don’t know the name of it.’ You stuttered, all the words somehow forming into a one silent noise.

'Oh I know this movie!’ He said excitedly and clapped his hands, making you jump a little bit but you dozed off again, getting lost in your own mind. You haven’t seen anything of the movie that was playing as you kept staring at Kai and his hands resting casually on the bed. You bit your lip and felt your heart starting to beat faster as you couldn’t control yourself anymore. You trailed your fingers over Kai’s biceps gently, his eyes instantly finding yours. You brought his hand up to your mouth and kissed his fingertips before you slowly parted your lips and pushed his middle finger inside your mouth and slowly started pulling it out, at the end licking his tip and not taking your eyes off Kai.

'What are you doing?’ Kai asked quietly, almost a moan escaping his mouth.

'Shhh, don’t talk.’ You whispered and kissed his fingertips again as you slowly slid his hand down your neck and stopped on your breast, squeezing it with your hand on top of his. You led his hand under your shirt and placed it on your breast again, this time he squeezed it on his own, feeling your bare skin completely exposed to him. He slowly leaned in and started kissing your neck, his lips feeling like torture on your sensitive skin. Your eyes fell down to his manhood as you could have seen how he has gotten harder which made you bite your lip from excitement. You slowly pushed your self down and sat on his knees, your hands gently caressing his thighs before you finally found the edge of his boxers. You came closer and placed a kiss on his clothed lenght, a quiet moan escaping his mouth. You smiled to yourself and very slowly pulled his boxers all the way down, his lenght springing free right in front of your face. He was already hard and even the slightest touch has made Kai lift his hips up, looking for more. You blew on his tip, his hips jerking up as you finally took his tip into your mouth, licking it with your tongue as you collected all the pre-cum. You gently grabbed it with your hand and started pumping him while you used your other hand to massage his balls. He pushed his fingers into your hair the moment when you pushed him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

'Oh fuck. Just like that.’ He threw his head back and arched his back a little bit, your actions obviously driving him crazy. You sped up, your tongue circling around his tip every time you took him out of your mouth and then took him back in, your hand pumping him at a faster pace as you felt him twitching and his moaning getting louder each time you gently grazed him with your teeth. You hollowed your cheeks and took him in a few more times before you barely grazed him with your teeth and felt his hot liquid trickle down your throat. You wiped your mouth with your thumb and quickly got off the bed, your eyes strongly focused on Kai. You slowly took off your shirt and threw it down on the floor, your hands slowly trailing down your body until you reached your panties and pushed them all the way down, your naked body exposed to Kai’s sight. He swallowed hard and had a hard time trying not to stare. You chuckled, but instead of climbing back on the bed, you took his black shirt and put it on, the end reaching right below your ass.

'I’m super hungry right now. Are you hungry?’ You trailed off and showed a mischevious smile to him as you walked out of the room and into the kitchen. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it would jump out of your chest any second. After only a few second, you felt Kai’s arms on your waist and before you could say anything, he pushed you against the wall and pinned your hands above your head.

'I’m starving, but not for food.’ He said through gritted teeth and pushed his knee between your legs, seperating them roughly as he swiftly pushed his two fingers inside you and then quickly pulled them out, his thumb roughly rubbing your clit in figure eights. 'Do you see what you do to me? Look how hard I am for you.’ You looked down and he was standing straight up, just like in the bedroom. You bit your lip and tried to set at least one of your hands free, but he was too strong.

'Are you going to do something about it?’ You stuttered, your voice barely audible and you fought too hard to keep your eyes opened.

'I will make you scream so much that all the neighbours will know you’re mine. Just mine.’ He pushed his fingers into you again and started pushing them in and out as fast as he could as you felt your walls clenching and the familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was starting to get more evident. 'No, no, not yet.’ He pulled his fingers out and licked them completely clean, your orgasm slowly fading away. He picked you up and used his vamp speed to run to the kitchen counter, letting you down as he spread your legs again and leaned down, his tongue swiftly licking your folds before he started sucking harshly on your clit. You burried your fingers into his still wet hair, trying to pull him even closer. You threw your head back, the tension building again in your stomach, but just when you wanted to let go again, Kai pulled away, not letting an orgasm to take over your body.

'Kai, please, I need it.’ You cried out, desperate for a release.

'You need what?’ He asked, his eyes piercing through your naked body.

'You, I fucking need you. Please, please, fuck me Kai. I will do anything, just do it.’ You begged him and he loved it. You could see a small mischevious smile and how satisfed he was about you begging him to finally make you his and to take you in a way only he could.

'Very well. If you want it.’ He said a little too calmly. He swiftly picked you up again and let you down in front of the couch. You furrowed your brows and wanted to ask him what he was going to do, but right when you parted your lips, he grabbed your arm and spun you around as he bend you over the couch and spread your legs with his leg. He pushed a finger inside you and trailed it through your folds, bringing it up to his mouth and licked it clean before he grabbed your waist and slammed into you in a one quick and rough thrust, making you scream out loud.

'Like this?’ He groaned and started slamming relentlessly into you, his hips perfectly meeting yours as the sound of skin on skin and panting echoed through the room.

'Yes!’ You shouted and grabbed onto the couch, your eyes closing at the feeling of Kai’s thick lenght stretching and filling you out perfectly. He leaned down and placed his hand on your neck as he lifted you up, your back laying flat on his chest while his hips kept mercilessly slam into you, bringing you closet to your orgasm as each second passed.

'Kai, I’m so close.’ You bit on your lip so hard that it started bleeding. Your walls started clenching and you were already there, ready to let yourself go but Kai has disappeared again, leaving you empty. He picked you up again and sat on the couch, placing you right onto his hard lenght. A single tear rolled down your cheek as it was getting a bit too much, the sensation and frustration taking over your body, your skin sensitive at a touch.

'It will be alright.’ Kai whispered and placed his hands on your waist, slowly lifting you up and then back down until you and him found the perfect rhythm, your hips meeting his so amazingly. You burried your head in the crook of his neck, your body feeling like jello and this time, you couldn’t keep it anymore.

'Cum for me.’ He whispered in your ear and cupped your face, kissing you deeply as you finally let yourself go, an intense orgasm tearing through your body, a tear rolling down your cheek as you screamed Kai’s name out loud, your vision going black for a few second.

'Fuck.’ Kai groaned and started twitching inside you as he came in hot short spurts, his head pressed against your chest, completely riding out yours and his orgasm. He stilled himself as you both tried to catch your breath, your hearts beating extremely fast. There was silence in the room, only Kai’s eyes strongly focused on you. He removed a wet lock of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear.

'You’re so beautiful. I’m sorry.’ He kissed you gently and slowly lifted you up, pulling himself out of you and then wrapped his arms around your tired body.

'Don’t be. It was- absolutely amazing.’ You whispered and leaned on his chest as you closed your eyes, your breathing calming down and not long after that, you have fallen asleep in Kai’s arms, that night was only the begining of the amazing journey between you and him.

3

Weiss: Do you think I really care about this self-centered society? Because I don’t. It’s never done me any good. And what good has it ever done for you Sky? Seriously, what have you gotten out of following all of these ridiculous rules? Sure, you’re pure, but you married a man who loved another woman, and you have a son who hates your guts. If staying in this stupid thing means that I’ll end up like you, then I am excited to leave.

anonymous asked:

hi! do you have any strong opinions or hcs about the dirk+jane friendship? i really like your dirk stuff and i love this relationship and it would really make my day to see some of your hcs or meta! (not as a couple tho thats ew)

I basically think that Dirk and Jane are the closest, purest platonic friendship in possibly the entire comic and I love them deeply?? The alphas feel closer to me than any other group, and the Dirk<->Jane relationship is the only one among them that isn’t tinged by either romantic interest/pining or repressed resentment. 

Like. Roxy and Jane, they are best friends, absolutely, but we know from canon that Roxy honestly and actually felt quite bad about Jane literally just not believing even the tiny bits of the reality of her situation that Roxy let slip (her “mom” being dead is the one she talks about) and felt awful about having to “lie” about living in post-apo future partially because Jane would never have believed them anyway. Like. There is a lot to unpack there. Add that to their weird thing with Jake, too – not competing over him, exactly, that’s the wrong word, just, Roxy constantly being frustrated about the situation and Jane just willfully refusing to see that, and blah blah. 

Jane and Jake’s relationship is obviously weird because of the way they dance around each other’s romantic inclinations and Jane sort of holds Jake on this pedestal as her Crush before she thinks of him as her Friend, and part of Jake’s relationship to Jane is having to always be vaguely receptive and live up to that view of him while not actually giving her an opening to make anything official. So that’s weird. They’re close but there’s a performative element to aspects of their relationship on both sides that’s hard to look past.

And of course, Dirk and Roxy have the one sided pining, the last people on earth baggage, the mutual guilt, they love each other more than anything in their own weird way and are so fucking close it hurts but that guilt and resentment between them is a wall covered in thorns and spikes and poison. 

And then Dirk and Jake, which is as far as I can tell and I’ve mentioned this before, a story about two boys who have loved each other for basically EVER, but Jake never let himself think about it that way until it was too late and he’d already given Dirk the impression that he COULDN’T and then the AR happened and everything got weird and difficult and frustrating fast. 

So Jane and Dirk. There is NONE of this there. Like maybe it is just me but I NEVER got the impression that Jane found Dirk romantically appealing, which means that Dirk doesn’t have that swirling self loathing about being unable to reciprocate like he does with Roxy. They are just two actual best friends who share a bunch of interests and enjoy talking to each other and respect each other’s opinions and capabilities, they’re just FRIENDS.

As a side note – I think it’s so cool that (what I think is) honestly the closest most purely platonic friendship in homestuck is between a man and a woman, because I see it so rarely, media creators rarely extend the self control to keep man/woman relationships platonic from all angles, even when they DO there’s often a sub-arc where one side or the other freaks out like BUT DO I LIKE THEM LIKE THEM OH NO or DO THEY LIKE ME LIKE ME OH NO and neither ever happens with Jane and Dirk. And I love it. So many of my personal platonic friendships throughout my life have been with men and I get so fucking tired of the overarching narrative that it’s impossible. Okay. Side note over. 

I loved Jane and Dirk’s conversation on the quest beds so fucking much. Like. I think there is still a lot more for them to work out, and Jane’s lingering resentment/jealousy over Dirk ending up with Jake after all is something they need to deal with – I think that conversation indicates they WILL deal with it though. They weren’t quite ready right then, they were still in the anger phase of everything (not at each other, but partially at Jake and partially Dirk’s own self loathing at work), but I think they will work it out and go back to being best friends. 

The only “negative” things I have to say about it is that they both mutually do not seem to “get” each other’s biggest flaws – but uh, none of the alphas really do and that’s part of why when they all get together in person everything gets shitty so fast – but I think they will get better about this, too, and the REASON they miss the mark at first is because they are both so anxious to think well of the other, they don’t let themselves look too hard at the bad stuff. I think they can reconstruct their friendship on earth C with a better understanding of one another and end up closer than they were before all the shit went down because of it. 

anonymous asked:

Why do you think Marston have the whole "wonder woman made from clay" angle in her origin that we've basically had ever since (ish)? Isn't "best of the best of secrect scifi hidden amazons" an exotic and exciting enough origin?

She is made from clay so that she is pure woman, without the taint of man-stink anywhere in her. Her parthenogenic origin means that she is pure, woman born of woman.

Why clay specifically rather than just, say, popping out of Hippolyta’s thigh, or head, or even just regular old virgin birth? Well, as I explained in this essay that I apparently wrote before I had read the huge pile of Golden Age Wonder Woman that I have since read, it ties her thematically to Pandora, the first woman.

(That link also reminds me I owe some people some essays. Sorry, y’all. Let’s see what I can do.)

‘You say that it is important to have courage and sincerity. Therefore I will drop my fear and ask you the questions deepest and most honestly within me, and I hope you will answer.
How can there be any generalizations about the qualities of man and woman? We are each and every one of us fifty percent man and fifty percent woman, then we must each possess varying degrees of male or female characteristics not dependent entirely on if our physical bodies in this lifetime are born male or female.
I am female but I have always written poetry and I have never been so good at shopping lists. I am female but I have not been suspicious or jealous of man’s love affair with his art. In fact I have more often been in the role of choosing to be with my writing, than choosing to be in relationship leading to home and family. I am female but I feel my creativity and ideas come from strongly within me, and do not look to a man for them.
If I have been uncertain about my wholeness within, I have looked outside but never specifically to someone because of the sex they happen to be.
And I have loved women as well as men—not when no man was available to me, but because I was not looking at the outer illusion of this being man or woman, but feeling the essence of that person within.
I feel these generalizations reinforce our already strong preoccupation with the world of illusion and belief in the physical universe.
You can see you’ve made me angry, so I suppose you have begun to reach me.’

The first thing: generalizations are generalizations. They are not applicable to every single particular human being, that’s why they are called generalizations. The average man does not exist, you cannot find the average man anywhere. But the idea is good, it helps clarity. You cannot find, absolutely corresponding to the generalized idea, a single human being. Human beings come in all sizes and shapes and colours, they are unique. But still, generalization has its own point…

For example, only one single woman has asked the question—there are thousands of women here. Secondly, the very question shows me that Deborah must be very good at making shopping lists. And I am afraid about her poetry too. You can write a shopping list in poetry form. I would have to have a look at her poetry, only then can I say anything. My own experience is that out of a hundred poetries ninety-nine are shopping lists. It does not matter whether they are written by men or women. It is very rare to find poetry.
It is said of a great Zen master, Lin Chi… He had ten thousand monks, disciples, in his monastery. The king had come to see the monastery, he was very much impressed, and Lin Chi was taking him around. And the king asked, ‘How many disciples do you have?’ He said, ‘One in a hundred.’
A strange answer—one in a hundred? But that’s how it has always been. When you have a hundred disciples only one is really a disciple. Ninety-nine are just hangers-around.
Even a great poet, when he writes poetry, ninety-nine times writes only shopping lists. Only once in a while the poetry happens—all poetries are not poetic. And sometimes this too happens, that a shopping list may have great poetry. All shopping lists are not necessarily unpoetic.

But Deborah must belong to the new kind of woman that is arising in the world, the lib woman.
One thing has to be understood: the liberation movement that is going on in the world is a man-created phenomenon, a male-created phenomenon. You will be surprised about it, that it is again a male conspiracy. Now man wants to get rid of women. He wants to have no responsibility. He wants to enjoy women but only as fun; he does not want to take all the other responsibilities that come with it. Now, this is a subtle conspiracy: the man is trying to persuade women all over the world that the woman has to become independent. It is a subtle trick. And the male mind is cunning and the male mind is succeeding. And now many women have become poisoned by this idea.
Do you know? The first persons who started talking about equality between man and woman were men, not women. The first persons who started talking about it, that they should have equal freedom, were men, not women. The seed comes from the male mind. And it has always been so—whenever a man feels what is in his favour, he manages it. His cunning is very subtle. And sometimes he manages it in such a way that the woman thinks she is doing it on her own. In the past also it has been so.
Man has persuaded women in the past that they are pure beings, angels. Man is dirty, boys are boys—but the woman? She is divine. Man has put woman on a high pedestal; that was his trick to control woman. Man has worshipped, and through worship he has controlled. And naturally, when the woman was on the pedestal she thought that she was something divine—she could not do those things that men are doing, she could not, because that was going against her ego. That high pedestal was very ego-satisfying. She was the mother, she was divine; she had more divine qualities than man. Man is ugly, immoral, and all that. Man has to be forgiven for that. So man, down the ages, started remaining in his ways. And the woman was high. But this was a trick, the ego was persuaded. And once your ego is persuaded, you are caught. Then you cannot move from your position. To ask for equality will be a kind of fall—you will have to come down to become equal. It was a strategy, and the woman followed it. She remained pure, she remained virgin up to the marriage. It was not so for the man.
If the woman died, the man was allowed to marry again—because boys are boys, they cannot live without the woman. If the man died, the woman had to remain a widow for her whole life. Or, in this country particularly—which did this strategy to the very logical end—she had to commit suicide. She had to burn herself alive with the husband. And millions of women did it. How were they persuaded? And do you think they were forced? No, nobody was forcing them. There was no visible coercion, just a very deep seduction. By becoming SATIS, by going into the fire with the husband, their egos were fulfilled. Greatly fulfilled—people worshipped them. When they entered into the fire, thousands of people would gather together and sing songs in praise of the purity of woman. And if a woman did not go with the husband into the fire, did not commit suicide, she was condemned, utterly condemned. She was a bad woman. Just by trying to be alive, she was a bad woman. She was disrespected; she would fall immediately in the eyes of others, she would lose all respect. Her life would become a hell. She would be condemned everywhere, she would not be welcomed anywhere. She would be thought of as a bad omen. In no marriage would she be able to participate. If a child was born and people were celebrating, she would not be able to participate. She would not be allowed to decorate her body, to use beautiful clothes or ornaments or have long hair—no, she had to live in an ugliness, and condemned from everywhere. It was worse than death. So it was better to jump into the fire once and for all, and have the respect. And temples were raised in the memory of those women. And those women were thinking that they were doing it.
What I am making clear is that those women down the ages were thinking that they were doing it, on their own. And it was not so. Now again the same is happening, in the reverse order. In the West, man has persuaded women that ‘Now you have to be free, you have to be equal.’ Because now things have changed, times have changed—a man would like to enjoy more women than just his wife. Now he wants absolute freedom. And the only way to have absolute freedom is to give absolute freedom to the woman. And he has persuaded her again. And now the woman protesters and libbers, they are shouting with their whole heart for liberty and equality. And they don’t know they are again in the same grip: again man is persuading them. Now man wants to use them and throw them, with no responsibility attached to it. If you look deeply into the whole matter of it, you will be surprised. The male mind is a cunning mind. The woman is more innocent; she cannot be so strategic, so political, she has always believed the man. And you will be surprised: these lib women are again believing in the man! Nothing has changed. Now THIS is in favour of the man that you should be free and you should not ask for any commitment. He does not want to commit himself, he wants to have all freedom. He does not want to take the responsibility of your children. He does not want to live with you forever, he wants to change his woman every day. But now again he is creating beautiful words: ‘One should live in no commitment. One should live without involvement. One should not be possessive, one should not be jealous.’ Now again he is creating beautiful philosophy. He has done it before too—and then too women were deceived, and again they are going to be deceived.
Women trust. Trust is easy for them; love comes easier to them than logic. And they are very much concerned with the immediate. The man always thinks of strategies, tactics, what will happen, how it will happen—he thinks of the future, he plans for the future.

Now, Deborah repeats at least five times in this question: ‘I am a female’. Is there some worry? Is there some doubt? There must be. One thing has to be told to you: just by being in a female body one need not be a woman. Just by being in a male body one need not be a man. Man and woman are more states of the mind.
There are men who are psychologically not male but female, and there are women who are psychologically not women but men. These are the people who create many problems, because they cannot be heterosexual. Heterosexuality has no appeal for them, they have to be homosexuals or lesbians. Their psychology is different from their physiology; their biology and their psychology have a gap in them, unbridged. And there is going to remain a problem with them. In fact in a better world, in the future world—soon, I think by the end of this century—things will be easier. Because if a man is deep down psychologically feeling himself a woman, it is better to go through an operation and become biologically also a woman. Or if a woman is feeling deep down a male, it is better to go through an operation, plastic surgery, and become a man, so it can be bridged. Once this becomes possible, homosexuality and lesbianism will disappear from the world. Otherwise it cannot disappear, because it has a certain reason in it. The man looks a man from the outside; deep down he is not a man, he is a woman. His deeper woman wants a man—hence the homosexual.
And there is a third category also: confused people, who don’t know who they are. In the morning they are women, by the evening they are men. The difference is so small that they shrink; they become bisexuals. One moment they are loving a woman, another moment they are falling in love with a man. Their psychology and biology is in a state of mess; they will live a very confused life. Science can now help these people too, to make things clear.
Now, repeating again and again that ‘I am a female’ creates suspicion. Why so much concern about being a female? Once would have been enough. Even once was not needed—your question would have said that you are a female. And not an ordinary female, a libber.

Let me read the question: ‘You say that it is important to have courage and sincerity. Therefore I will drop my fear and ask you the questions deepest and most honestly within me…’ Now, what kind of questions are deepest and honest in you? Just think of the whole crap of it. These are the deepest questions? I am talking about Ikkyu and Buddha, and these are the deepest questions. And to ask these questions you needed great courage and sincerity!

‘How can there be any generalizations about the qualities of man and woman?’ Generalizations are not possible about ANYTHING, because no individual will fit them. But still, generalizations are meaningful; they simply indicate.
When I say a woman is more concerned with the immediate, I am not saying anything about a particular woman—Deborah, or anybody else. I am simply saying it about WOMANNESS, that womanness is concerned with the immediate. And if you are not concerned with the immediate then something somewhere in your womanhood is missing. That is very essential to femininity: the concern for the immediate, the imminent. But generalizations are generalizations, remember it. And there will be differences between individuals. But the meaning of a generalization is just to indicate a certain quality. It doesn’t say anything about particular individuals, it simply says the quality of being a woman is immediateness.
I would like to see Deborah’s poetry, because there is a possibility there may be that immediateness in the poetry itself. The poetry may be concerned with the imminent, the herenow; it may not be concerned with the ultimate. And the question also shows it—her whole concern is her womanhood. She says, ‘This is my deepest and the most honest question arising in me.’ Buddhahood, God, they are faraway questions. Her whole concern is with her body, her womanhood. It is not just an accident that women are standing before the mirror for hours. Their concern is immediate; they are more concerned with the body than with the soul. They are more materialistic than spiritualistic. They are more factual than fictitious.

‘I am a female but I have always written poetry and I have never been so good at shopping lists. I am female but I have not been suspicious or jealous of man’s love affair with his art. In fact, I have more often been in the role of choosing to be with my writing, than choosing to be in relationship leading to home and family.’

Now, these are complex things.
The atmosphere is such that a woman has to be equal with man. She has not to be interested in the home, family, children, motherhood. She has to become interested in poetry, in literature, in painting, in science, in technology, this and that. Now women’s groups gather together around the world to raise their consciousness. And all their consciousness-raising sessions consist of only one thing, that they have to destroy something deep in their womanhood. Only then can they compete with men. They are soft, naturally soft. They cannot compete with men. If they want to compete with men they will have to become hard. So whenever you come across a lib woman you can see the face loses softness. It is very difficult to say to a lib woman, ‘Baby’—very difficult. And she will be angry too, she will not like it. Why ‘Baby’?—she is equal to you. Hardness arises. All kinds of struggle give hardness.
And you may be trying not to be interested in the home, because if you become interested in the home then you cannot compete in the world. If you become interested in children you cannot compete in the world; then that becomes a distraction. And if you have to compete in the world and prove that you are as strong as men, you have to somehow become more like men. And this will be a loss. This is a loss—because the only hope for humanity is the softness of woman, not the hardness of man. We have suffered enough from the hardness of man. What is needed is that man should become more like woman, rather than woman becoming more like man.
Nietzsche is right when he says that Buddha and Christ were a little womanish. I agree. And this is how it should be—because Buddha is the hope. Men should become a little more womanish, more soft, more waterlike. But what is happening is very unfortunate, women are trying to become like men. Naturally, with whomsoever you compete, you try to become like that. If you are antagonistic against men, sooner or later you will become more like men.
Women are pulling against themselves, trying hard to manage. But that is not natural. The natural is the womb in the woman—that womb hankers for a child, that womb hankers for a home. The home is the visible womb outside the woman, it is a projection of the inner womb. Once a woman is no more interested in the home, she is no more interested in her womb. And that womb is there.
Men and women are NOT equal, because man is missing that womb. How can they be equal? I am not saying they are unequal, but I am certainly saying they are not equal. They are so different—how can they be equal? They are polar opposites. They are so different, they cannot be compared in terms of equality or inequality.
A woman is a woman, a man is a man. And they SHOULD remain man and woman. A woman should remain interested in the home, because once she stops being interested in the home she will stop being interested in the womb, in the child. And then naturally she turns into a lesbian. It is not accidental that libbers become lesbians. Because if you are not interested in the womb and not interested in the child, then for what to be interested in men? Then it is good to be interested in women. This is a very strange phenomenon that is happening in the world.
My own understanding is this, that man has to become a little more feminine. He has gone too far away in becoming a man, he has lost track of all humanity. Don’t follow him, don’t compete with him—otherwise you will be going on in the same rut, in the same routine. You will become warlike. And the libbers screaming and shouting and protesting on the streets are just ugly. They are showing the worst traits of the male mind.

And the last thing: ‘You can see you have made me angry, so I suppose you have begun to reach me.’ Now I must have made you even more angry. Fall in love with me!

—  Osho

Not to be a stereotypical gay but I really wish I could see a good platonic m/f bonds in media every now and then. A pure, unmistakable friendships between a man and a woman. Bonus if it’s between a lesbian and a gay man. It’s so little to ask for And Yet.

Policing Love as a Political Tactic: The Thought Crime of Women Loving Women

I remember the impact of realizing I was not straight had on me as a little girl. I was around eight years old. I fell in love with powerful women that I saw on TV and in the movies, most notably Storm from the X-Men films and some female detectives and doctors on TV dramas. I loved them and I knew in my heart that it was a love that transcended anything I had previously felt, though the feelings did confuse me. Did I want to *be* them, or did I want to *do* them? That confusion followed me well into my adulthood.

My point for bringing that up is because I suffered from years of repression. I would feel revulsion at my love for women, at my deep sexual attraction to the strong, amazing women I saw. The representation of lesbians and bisexual women was minimal, and whenever it came up, whether in songs, film, or television shows, my parents would immediately change the channel, turn the station, shut off the television, and make awful comments. “Who do they think they are, adding that in there? It’s disgusting. They’re just trying to be PC.” “You know she’s singing about a WOMAN right?? This singer is a d**e. Don’t listen to this song, I don’t want you getting any ideas.” “No, you can’t go see that, I heard it has lesbian shit in it.”

Soon that repression and those comments bled into my personal life. Everything was under surveillance, from my clothes and behaviors to my personal friendships. “You’re wearing that? You look like a fucking man. Take that off. You look like a d**e.” “Hmmm…aren’t those shoes a little d**ey? Go with the heels instead.” Even my healthy friendships came under fire: “You’re sleeping over at X’s AGAIN this weekend? I mean I know she’s your friend but she’s a little…well, you know, gay, right? I mean I’m just saying, I don’t want her to try and force you to do anything or experiment or shit like that.”

The celebration of women was suspect to my peers and parents. “Oh, you’re into that band? They’re, like, SUPER popular with the lesbians.” “Oh my god, I can’t believe you picked that movie, there were SOOOO many lesbians in there.” “What is this shit on your wall? Where did you get this d**e shit? This is the kinda shit a lesbian would put up, you don’t want people to think that about you, do you? Good. Take it down. I don’t want to see that shit in my house.”

None of these things that I enjoyed were explicit. I hung up pictures of women whose music I loved, who I had been introduced to by my parents: Indigo Girls, Joni Mitchell, pictures of feminists that I had read and felt inspired by, poets like Anne Sexton, Emily Dickinson, and Sylvia Plath. They decorated my wall because I loved their descriptions of women. I applied those poems to myself. Maybe some part of me subconsciously realized they were a celebration of woman-love, something more than heterosexual, platonic female friendship, but I didn’t know that. I wasn’t trying to challenge my parents. I had just found voices that echoed my own.

Growing up in the new millennium gave me a perspective of openness. There were other gay and bisexual people around me. I was beyond delighted! I couldn’t believe it! I wasn’t alone! No one was disgusted by my love of women. No one tried to hide me, no one was ashamed of me, and I wasn’t ashamed of them. I finally found like I had found a space, a LIFE, where I could live as myself without shame.

But now that’s changed. I posted something on another social media profile of mine that was simply pictures of women, and someone commented with that now-common accusation: “lol, what is this terf shit?”

And I stared at it with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. I responded, it’s just pictures of women. How is that trans-exclusionary? And they said, well what’s the source? I said I didn’t know. They gave me a flighty response: “oh lol, sorry, just wanted to make sure!”

Make sure of what? That I wasn’t committing some heinous crime that would dare celebrate women? That I wasn’t supporting something they hated? Women who are deemed terfs are reviled, and we are often on the receiving end of horrifically detailed rape and death threats. Lesbians cannot even post about their love lives on their personal blogs without receiving an influx of violent and degrading comments, questioning their sexuality and being bullied to the point that it becomes abundantly clear that if they don’t include transgender women (males) in their relationships, then they’re not ~REALLY~ LESBIANS, they’re just “gyno-sexuals” and “genital fetishists.” The only reason to police these women, to make sure the celebration of women, by women, accepts males, is the oldest reason: misogyny. The only reason any lesbian receives hate for her sexuality, for her HOMOSEXUALITY, is misogyny.

The current political ideology of pomo idpol is just brand new, socially accepted fodder to hate women. When you see a woman posting anything that doesn’t include men, and celebrates the love a woman feels for another, and you decide to question, harass, and punish her for it, YOU ARE A HOMOPHOBIC MISOGYNIST. You are putting women back in the closet when we’ve recently been able to take steps outside. Women celebrating women, women LOVING and being attracted to other women should not be a threat, but it is, and I won’t pretend I don’t know why.

To try and psychologically bully a lesbian into accepting male genitalia under the guise of wanting to ~broaden~ her horizons and asking her to ~examine~ her sexuality is exactly what they did to lesbians in the 50’s and 60’s: conversion therapy under a post-modern label. It’s a violent tactic to try and turn a HOMOsexual person HETEROsexual, purely because YOU cannot accept a woman who will not be with a man, because YOU are uncomfortable at a sexuality that does not involve a penis.

incidentally, the “Pure Woman Fixes Damaged Man” trope is the exact reason I could never get into Sansan. It just always felt like it was played straight, with pure feminine Sansa saving large gruff manly man Sandor with her gentleness, and without the benefit of seeing into both their heads it was never really explored further than that for me, so I could never really get behind it

meanwhile, with jb, grrm hit that subversion sweet spot with me, and I loved it