sojourn to the past

if you believe using the word “woman” to refer to “(adult) female person” makes you a TERF, then hooks is a terf.  lorde is a terf.  steinem is a terf.  davis is a terf.  every significant anglophone feminist theorist of the past century is a terf. sojourner goddamn truth is a terf.  & if you really have the purity of your convictions, then you should just dissociate yourself from feminism completely, because bell “Big Time Terf” hooks said that feminism is “a movement to end sexism, sexist exploitation, and oppression”.  that movement requires the ability to describe sex, so if you think describing sex is oppressive, feminism is just…  not for you.  period.

Okay—I know we dove headfirst into the ‘Eowells/Harribard/Wellsobard Returns’ theory with the sort of enthusiasm I love to see, and I am so totally down for it, but I think it’s also important to discuss the ramifications of Wellsobard’s return. Because, let’s face it, whatever master plan he might hatch (which will probably always include returning home), he still wants his revenge against Barry, and this seething hatred might very well branch off onto the rest of Team Flash, since, even if he’s just a time remnant, it’s not going to take him very long to figure out what happened at the end of season one. He was fairly clear in the finale about killing everyone in the Cortex once he was through with Barry, so I’m just assuming he’s still going to want to take his rage out on anyone Barry ever cared about.

Anyhow, that’s probably a no-brainer—so why exactly am I bringing this up?

Because I was watching Flash Back again tonight and it just reminded me that Barry’s little sojourn into the past ended up rewriting Hartley’s entire history with the team. Since the big change, he’s evidently now a member of Team Flash (even if it’s only unofficial), he’s become friends with Barry (to some degree), and he knows all about “Evil Wells” (if Caitlin’s comment is anything to go by). So, given the fact that not only is he a powerful ally of Barry’s now, but that he also has a long standing history with Wellsobard, do you think there’s a good chance we’ll see him in more than one episode next season?

I mean, I’m probably being stupidly optimistic here (because we don’t actually know Eobard is going to be the big bad for season 3, as badly as I wish that was true; also, I realize this might result in there being ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ as far as super smart sciency people go), but ever since I caught a glimpse of the original pilot script, I’ve wanted to see more of Hartley interacting with the rest of Team Flash. Also, I think we all deserve to find out what happened between now and The Sound and the Fury that changed Hartley’s life so drastically…

*sighs wistfully*

Who’s with me?

Old woman, do you think any of your talk about slavery does any good? Do you suppose people care what you say? I myself personally don’t care any more for your talk than I do for the bite of a flea.” She replied, “Perhaps not but, Lord willing, I’ll keep you scratching.
— 

Sojourner Truth in response to a detractor

Out of Our Past: Sojourner Truth visited today in 1874

mynameishazard  asked:

Writing prompt: One of Kendra's previous incarnations turns out to be Len's mother.

I had never considered the premise this prompt before, but sure, why not?  It’s interesting.

Uh, usual warning for Len’s childhood (ALL the spousal/child abuse trigger warning tags, though it’s only ever discussed by the characters, not shown). Also warning for my disdain for the concept of predetermined destiny, but if you came here, you probably already knew about that.  It does mean that Kendra doesn’t come off that well in this fic (which is a shame because I generally like her), but seriously, her current “should I date Ray should I not date Ray am I cheating on my reincarnation stalker am I destined for tragedy” story arc is a little irritating. Not her fault, Carter clearly just ruins everything he touches.

—————–

Len doesn’t have many pictures of himself as a kid, for obvious reasons.

Mick’s been to his house, though – broke in once after a frantic call from Lisa – and there’s one picture of his mom and dad pinned up in a dusty corner. So Mick knows why Len goes quiet and tight-lipped when he manages to tear his eyes away from the time-travelling space ship and sees the young woman who introduces herself as Kendra Saunders.

When they’re back at the safe house, Mick reviews his gun in silence as Len flips through a magazine, tension apparent in ever line of his body.  After a decent half hour of silence for Len to unwind a little, Mick decides to broach the subject.

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anonymous asked:

Do Jamie and Claire have sex once they're back at Lollybrook? I can't remember it's been so long since I've read it. But don't they after Jamie punishes Ian? Or there's a really cute interaction when he comes back from doing it? Thanks

I love how you’re all innocent anon, like “maybe they have sex… I can’t remember…” *wink, wink*

Here you go!


“You look rather like a baboon,” I observed. 

“Oh, aye? And what’s one of those?” In spite of the freezing November air pouring in through the half-open window, Jamie showed no signs of discomfort as he dropped his shirt onto the small pile of clothing. 

He stretched luxuriously, completely naked. His joints made little popping noises as he arched his back and stretched upward, fists resting easily on the smoke-dark beams overhead. 

“Oh, God, it feels good not to be on a horse!” 

“Mm. To say nothing of having a real bed to sleep in, instead of wet heather.” I rolled over, luxuriating in the warmth of the heavy quilts, and the relaxation of sore muscles into the ineffable softness of the goose-down mattress. 

“D’ye mean to tell me what’s a baboon, then?” Jamie inquired, “Or are ye just makin’ observations for the pleasure of it?” He turned to pick up a frayed willow twig from the washstand, and began to clean his teeth. I smiled at the sight; if I had had no other impact during my earlier sojourn in the past, I had at least been instrumental in seeing that virtually all of the Frasers and Murrays of Lallybroch retained their teeth, unlike most Highlanders— unlike most Englishmen, for that matter. 

“A baboon,” I said, enjoying the sight of his muscular back flexing as he scrubbed, “is a sort of very large monkey with a red behind.” 

He snorted with laughter and choked on the willow twig. “Well,” he said, removing it from his mouth, “I canna fault your observations, Sassenach.” He grinned at me, showing brilliant white teeth, and tossed the twig aside. “It’s been thirty years since anyone took a tawse to me,” he added, passing his hands tenderly over the still-glowing surfaces of his rear. “I’d forgot how much it stings.”

“And here Young Ian was speculating that your arse was tough as saddle leather,” I said, amused. “Was it worth it, do you think?” 

“Oh, aye,” he said, matter-of-factly, sliding into bed beside me. His body was hard and cold as marble, and I squeaked but didn’t protest as he gathered me firmly against his chest. “Christ, you’re warm,” he murmured. “Come closer, hm?” His legs insinuated themselves between mine, and he cupped my bottom, drawing me in. 

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First Day

For OQ Week’s Time Travel/AU prompt. OQ fluff with a dash of plot.

Ok, a lot of plot. Time travel is a bitch. Read on FF.net if you prefer.


A child’s scream pierces the thick fog of slumber hovering over Regina.

Years of instinct land bare feet on plush carpet with the duvet thrown back, heedless of where it lands, her robe slipping across silk-clad shoulders as she stumbles from the bed. She uses the doorjamb to swing herself into the hallway, heading for her son’s room.

His door is closed instead of cracked open, odd for him, but not a deterrent. She bursts into the room, calling, “Henry?”

“What?” Her son sits up in bed, and in the pale light of early morning she can see him bare chested as the covers fall away form him. “Mom?”

His voice is deep, too deep (and since when did he sleep with no shirt on?), but the screams continue and they’re not coming from Henry’s room. Roland, maybe? Then, a warm presence behind her, a large hand drifting across her back in passing as Robin murmurs, “Alexia,” in her ear.

Who?

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Emmalee in Lighthouse Park.

I’ve been sojourning in Vancouver the past couple days. After having a delicious brunch with my close friend Denon I picked Moe up from work and we headed out towards Lion’s Bay together. En route we decided we wanted to see a lighthouse. Lucky for me Emmalee is quite resourceful and managed to steer us in the direction of Lighthouse Park.

Any time I enter a forest in British Columbia I find myself mesmerized by the sheer scale of her trees. I couldn’t help but wander from the path occasionally to touch the thick bark of a living thing that has seen more years than it would ever let on. Nature is all at once beautiful, simple and so intricate. At one point we strayed from the path to gaze on a felled tree that had become a sort of podium for the three tall trees that sprung up at even intervals along it’s trunk.

This little detour revealed another path that we began to follow without much thought. The terrain here is remarkable. Forests end abruptly at oceans edges. There you can glance at the peaks of mountains, jagged and towering, offering the greatest contrasts agains the oceans endless horizon. Our little path lead us out to a small inlet on the water that faced North Vancouver. We clamoured from rock to rock until we found ourselves back in the forest and then eventually on the West side of the lighthouse. We sat there and took in a double portion of sunlight, gazing westward at a setting sun and it’s brilliant reflection.