why women are crazy

Yall remember *NSYNC?

Remember how they (along with the backstreet boys) were the most popular boybands worldwide during the late 90s and into the millennium?

Remember the member Lance Bass?

Remember how he dated Danielle Fishel and they were “so in love”?

Remember how after they broke up, he exclusively dated women?

Remember all the rumors he had about him not being straight?

Remember when TMZ and Perez Hilton started following him around?

Remember when shortly after all this he came out as gay 4 years after *NSYNC disbanded?

Remember the reasons he gave as to why he didn’t come out a lot sooner than he did?

Do you think people told his speculators back then that they were delusional just like they tell Kaisoo shippers that now?

I bet they did, but in the end:

I rest my case.

Men are socialized since birth to think their feelings and thoughts are the objective truth.

They are taught they are generally right about something, unless contradicted by another male with equal or more authority. Men subconsciously believe they are firmly right about things so much they won’t even consider alternative perspectives unless it comes from a place of higher authority.

Men are socialized to believe women are inherently wrong, and that is why women are “crazy”, because it is so difficult for men to even consider the possibility that they don’t know shit.

This is why men often offer strong opinions on topics they just heard about, especially if they’re contradicting a woman.

This is because people will respect a man’s opinion and give his words weight even if he has zero background in the subject because men are considered credible by default.

Women are considered wrong by default and must argue their way to display their truth, no matter how strong their credentials.

Men probably have to tell themselves they’re logical all the time just to keep up the lie that feeds their ego.

Thinking is difficult work for a man who is used to instantly being told he is right, while women are constantly being argued against and therefore exploring the topics more deeply and doing more thinking.

this excellent summary of the problem is from witwitch - please write more!

“He’s a good man.”  x

“Sam’s a sweetheart. As a person, he’s just incredibly generous.” x

“Sam’s the greatest guy. That’s why women go crazy about him. You really see what a good guy he is and that shines through - always.” x

“Very proud of this generous and big hearted man. Always inspired and impressed by his capacity for helping others.” x

“No one is perfect … But he … comes pretty close” x

      ~ Caitriona Balfe on Sam Heughan

Happy Birthday to the good, sweet, generous, big hearted and pretty close to perfect Sam Heughan!

Outlast 2

Dude 2 : Yes yes something not in the asylum
Dude 3 : How about look deeper into the Walrider?

Dude 2 : Yes yes Eddie is quite popular
Dude 3 : How about we look into the discovery of the Walrider in a public area?

Dude 3 : But guys, we need to continue the main plot about the walrider-
Dude 2 : Hmmm… How about more Eddie like people? Yes yes…

Dude 3 : GUYS?! It’s the same universe we have to follow the main lines
Dude 2 : Yes yes how about a cult

Dude 3 : No please
Dude 2 : A cult full of
Dude 3 : Oh Dear lord

Dude 1: Eddie Gluskins

Red Barrels : ….and that’s how the cult full of people crazy about pregnant women came about.

Blake : Why do I lose my balls tho

Red Barrels : Because Eddie

-The End-

10 Reasons Why Men Shouldn't Cheat On Women Who Love Beyoncé

Originally posted by voulair

Reason 1: We’re crazy lol

Originally posted by emmasopheah

I mean if you want to risk your car windows being broken out, your tires being slashed or us hovering over you in the bed with a flash light than be my guest.

Reason 2: We’re not afraid to replace you

Originally posted by yonceisthequeen

You can do us dirty if you want to but best believe we’ll be moving on to the next in a minute because when you play us you play yourself.

Reason 3: We’re faithful!

Originally posted by crazyinyonce

When we love, we love hard and we’ll always be by your side through thick and through thin.

Reason 4: We’re low key some freaks.

Originally posted by mtvstyle

We may be some ladies in the streets but best believe we know how to put it down in the bedroom in ways you couldn’t even imagine.

Reason 5: We’re understanding

Originally posted by jon0h

The thing is y’all don’t really have to lie to us. If you just keep it a hundred with us then more than likely we’d be understanding. Honesty is really all we want from you.

Reason 6: We overlook your flaws

Originally posted by ignitetheliight

Sure you might not be perfect and sure you may not be ballin’ out of control but we’re not afraid to work with you, uplift you and give you the benefit of the doubt when necessary.

Reason 7: We’re strong

Originally posted by dailybeyoncegifs

Meaning we know how to survive with or without you. Just because we want you, it doesn’t mean we need you and y’all must remember that.

Reason 8: We know how to take care of home

Originally posted by yonceisthequeen

A good woman who can cook, clean, and be a good mother to your child? What else could you really ask for?

Reason 9: We more than likely have crazy girlfriends too

Originally posted by mynomadicwanderlust

You hurt one of us, you hurt us all and best believe we’ll all be after you in a heartbeat.

Reason 10: Don’t play yourself lol

Originally posted by mrsbey

We’ll make your life miserable and feel no regrets about it.

Unfortunately however, I know there are some men out there who will ignore this and still decide to cheat anyway but please know you’ll miss out on the best woman you’ve ever had.

Originally posted by lemonadedaily

P.S. after Lemonade do y’all really want to risk y’all lives like that? lol

My Two Cents About Yandere Simulator

I don’t honestly remember when I first got into Yandere Simulator. But, what I do remember that I had fell in love with the game after seeing people do Let Play’s of it. I used to love going on YandereDev’s youtube channel and seeing updates about the game. I was hyped up about getting the game.

And then, I discovered @stop-yanderedev.

At first, I was like “oh great, some pointless hate blog”. I had seen blogs like that before and expected this blog to be run by a bunch of butt-hurt babies who have zero reasons to hate the game.

But, after going through the blog, reading all the posts and receipts, I woke the fuck up. I didn’t know how shitty the dev was and what he had done before. I also didn’t realize how shitty some of the fans were and what lengths they would go for to make “some silly sjws triggered X3″. The really cool mods over at @stop-yanderedev made me realize a lot of things about the game. And, I am so fucking glad that I found them.

I like Yandere Simulator, I really do. I think it’s an interesting concept with a lot of potential. But, the way YandereDev is going about this, I am very disappointed. I can’t believe that the fans of Yandere Simulator can come up with much more interesting concepts than the dev himself.

So, to get to the point of my little rant, let’s start talking about the things that I think can make Yandere Simulator better.

1. The Protagonist

[ Picture taken straight from the official Yandere Simulator website ]

Firstly, I do not like Yandere-chan/Ayano Aishi. She is bland and uninteresting to me. I do not know much about anime, but what I do know is that yanderes are supposed to pretend to be this cutesy, harmless person to hide the fact that they’re fucking insane. I’ll admit, I like the idea of having a yandere who is emotionless until they meet their obsession. But, I would love to see that emotionless yandere pretend to be sweet and innocent to hide the fact that they’re apathetic and cruel to those who get in the way of their obsession. Ayano would be a much better character if she pretends to feel something to trick people into thinking that she’s harmless and wouldn’t hurt a fly.

I’ll admit, I love her name. Ayano Aishi rolls off the time rather nicely. Plus, Yan-chan is a really cute nickname. Her design doesn’t look too bad, either. But her backstory and personality is just so…meh.

[ Picture taken straight from the official Yandere Simulator website ]

Same goes for Yandere-kun. From what I’ve heard, he’s sadistic and looks like another anime character. Aren’t Yandere-kun and Ayano-chan the same person? Why is Ayano apathetic and emotionless, while Yan-kun is sadistic and possessive? Why can’t he look like a male-version of Ayano? I would honestly love to see Yan-kun with a ponytail. It would be so cute! But no, we get this asshole right here.

Honestly, the protagonist is the most important character in the game. They’re the ones that will be remembered the most. If YandereDev wants his game to be the best it can be, he needs to work on Yandere-chan/kun and make them not boring.

2. Senpai

[ Picture taken straight from the official Yandere Simulator website ]

Senpai/Taro Yamada is Ayano’s obsession, not to mention the main crush of all most of the rivals. If that’s the case, then why the fuck is he so BORING? I don’t care if he’s sitting in the “main protagonist seat”, how is that boy able to get so many girls fawning over him? He looks like a generic anime boy you see time and time again. He has no character whatsoever, as far as I can tell.

Now, I love Senpai. He’s probably one of my favorite characters (alongside Oka, Kokona, Midori, Shin, and Budo). Why do I like him, even though he’s boring? I like him, as in my version of him. I have so many headcanons, so many ideas about him that it made me love him.

My version of Senpai is that he’s kind and caring. He’s an awkward dork with a love for nature and animals. He likes reading and drawing. He loves his friends and family to death. He’ll stand up for others and risk his own safety for the sake of those he cares about. Senpai is not Senpai, but Taro Yamada. In my version of him, I give reasons as to why people would fall for him in the first place. I don’t just say “Oh, people like him because he ended sitting in some specific chair”, I give a real, valid reason for it.

Senpai has so much potential. I really hope he doesn’t stay the boring character that he is now.

3. The Rivals

There are rivals here that I like and make sense. Osana I can see as a rival since she had known Taro for a very long time and I honestly love the friends-to-lovers trope to death. Amai and Oka are adorable and Asu is amazing.

Then, there are rivals that I don’t like and that don’t make sense. Why the fuck would Hanako care if her brother got a girlfriend? I get that she loves him a lot and that she wants his attention, but what the fuck? If I was her, I would embarrass the hell out of Taro and tease him about all the attention he’s getting. I wouldn’t care if he got a girlfriend, unless that girlfriend is a fucking asshole or a crazy bitch. Also, why would two, grown-ass women be interested in student like Taro? I find that unsettling that two, grown-ass women would want to fuck a teenager. And, isn’t it illegal for teachers to date students?

Plus, their names. Oh my god, their names are fucking stupid. They’re not real names you would hear in real life or in an actual anime. They’re names that fucking middle school weebs in anime club would make up.

You want meaningful names, YandereDev? Then, DO YOUR MOTHERFUCKING RESEARCH. Don’t just type some adjective into Google Translate and see what that word is in Japanese. Go find some sites that provide you with actual Japanese names and their meanings, like Behind The Name or something.

Look, here’s an example!

[ Picture taken from the Yandere Simulator Wiki ]

Look at Oka Ruto. She’s the leader of the Occult Club and a fanatic for the supernatural, right? So, she’s a pretty spooky person. What name would fit her nicely?

How about Amaya Kuroba, instead? Amaya (雨夜) means “night rain” and Kuroba (黒羽) means “black wing”. Perfect for a spooky girl like Oka! You know how I got that name? I did my FUCKING RESEARCH, that’s how!

Or, or! What about Osoro Shidesu?

[ Picture taken from the official website ]

She is the leader of the delinquents and is known to be the strongest person at Akademi High. What name could possibly suit this badass girl?

Shinobu Tsuyoshi could fit! Shinobu (忍) means “endurance” and Tsuyoshi (剛) means “strong” or “tough”. Wow, another fitting name that’s actual Japanese! The wonders of doing your research.

In short, rethink the rivals. Their names need changing and some need to be replaced. And by some, I mean Mida, Muja, and Hanako need to go.

4. Info-chan

[ Picture taken from the official site ]

Info-chan is a character I’m very interested in. I find her character intriguing. A girl who seemingly knows everything about everyone at school? Sign me the fuck up.

But, when it comes to her “currency”, she loses me. Panty shots are dumb and gross. I don’t care about it being an “anime trope”, it’s fucking stupid. Of all the things, why did it had to be panty shots?

The only thing I have to say is that her currency needs to change. Be more creative with it, because panty shots just don’t cut it. AT ALL.

5. Character Designs

Most of the characters are really pale. Like, what the fuck is up with that? Not every Japanese person is pale like a goddamn white person. Asian people can have dark or brown skin. How do I know? BECAUSE I’M A FUCKING ASIAN WHO HAS BROWN SKIN AND I’M SICK OF SEEING PEOPLE THINK ALL ASIAN ARE PALE AS SHIT. Newsflash, we aren’t. Want examples? Look at Asians from the Philippines, or from India. Hell, look at Asians who are also black. Dark/brown skinned Asians exist, folks. But also, everyone looks the same. The girls have the same body type, save for their boobs, and face. So do the boys. Would kill YandereDev to at least have some diversity with the students’ body types and faces? Probably.

Not only that, why are female high school students wearing female middle school uniforms? And why are the skirts so short? Akademi High is a prestigious private school, right? So, their uniforms should look nice and mature. Like this:

Or, it could like this:

These uniforms are far more appealing and mature than the sailor fuku. These would suit the female students of Akademi High far more than the sailor fuku.

Also, on the subject of Akademi High being a prestigious, shouldn’t it be stricter about their dress codes? As shown in the pictures above, the students’ hair is not bright, rainbow colors but natural colors. Through research (yes, again), I gathered that Japanese students are not allowed to dye their hair bright, wild colors due to their strict dress codes. So, wouldn’t make sense for Akademi High to forbid their students from dying their hair wild colors?

To put it in short, make the uniforms look like they belong in a private, Japanese high school and making characters diverse isn’t hard.

And, that’s pretty much it! Like I said, Yandere Simulator has so much potential to be a really fun game. But, if it keeps going in the direction it’s already going at, then you can bet your ass that I’m not gonna buy it.

Again, thank you @stop-yanderedev for helping me realize how shitty the game and dev actually is. You guys are really awesome and I really hope you see this post.

So yeah, thanks for reading! I’m probably going to get shit on for stating my opinion, but whatever.

I also might post my version of how I think Yandere Simulator should be like, so watch out for that!


You wonder if cutting your hair will do it. Running fingers through the baby brambles and tight curls. If soft curls sheared close to your scalp will do it. Why when women cut their hair short so some say they’ve gone crazy? Catharsis at the blade of junky clippers. Is it that clear? We cut out the funk and excuses and lies we’ve swallowed like pills that go down easy, belly full and still hungry. Heart pumping on that sleeve for everyone to see - are we that obvious, that simple?

All my exes have been crazy. It’s just one crazy bitch after another. Crazy sluts. Crazy whores. You fucking whore. You crazy fucking whore. They’re all crazy fucking whores. They all drive me crazy. But baby. Baby. Baby. I’m crazy. For you.

I do a quick search online on women and mental illness and get hundreds of hits. Women Sent To Asylums For Post-Natal Depression. “Crazy” Women Killed In Salem Witch Trials. How “Craziness” Is Used To Keep Women Compliant.“ "Crazy Women. Why Men Think Women Are Crazy. Why Are Women So Crazy? TAKE THE TEST: Are YOU Crazy?

I touch my cheek. Gently. Self-consciously. Feeling at the skin that has healed over from many self-inflicted punches. I think about the dreams I have had since I was fifteen. Dreams of saying how I feel. Dreams of telling the truth. Dreams of my emotions bubbling over in public. Dreams where I am carted away, as everyone I know looks the other way, not wanting to make eye contact with the crazy girl. 

I think of these dreams which have kept me from speaking to doctors about any thoughts of depression. To counselors. To my family. To friends. I think of the men who have called me crazy when I spoke against them. I think of being in a group of friends and someone saying something someone does not like and being called crazy. You like that band? What, are you crazy? You really believe that? You’re crazy!! I think of how we invalidate each other with craziness. How we reduce each other to a word. And how throughout history, women have been reduced to crazy simply by expressing that they have emotions. 

I wonder what would get me sent to an institution if I was living in the Victorian era. Would it be anxiety? Depression? Infidelity? Unhappiness in marriage? Speaking too loudly one time? 

Crazy is a word of reduction. Of differentiation. Of categorizing persons into other. Of shaming. Of silencing. It further stigmatizes mental illness, and keeps those who suffer from it from seeking help. And it keeps women compliant and silent. Scared to speak up. Scared to vocalize their opinions or suffering. Why would they? They’re just crazy. Crazy crazy crazy.

But I am not out-of-control for my emotions. I am not insane for possessing opinions which do not match up with yours. I am not any less for suffering from a mental deficiency which make it difficult to cope. I am not one-word. One-term. One-sentence. 

In the 5th Century, Hippocrates coined the term female hysteria, to describe the abnormal movements in a female’s womb. Side effects of this included sexual desire. Lustful thoughts. Uncontrollable emotions. And then the unmentioned side effects: opinions which do not match up with ours. Failure to comply. Failure to be silent. Dissatisfaction with being controlled. 

In Salem, Massachusetts in 1692, women were bound at the hands and feet, with rocks attached, and thrown into water to determine whether or not they were witches. On the chance that they did not drown, they were declared a witch, and then executed by another means: Lynching. Poison. Burning at the stake.

In my womb I feel a fire growing, stoked over and over again by spittings of crazy. I open my mouth to contest this and wells of water pour out. Witch water. Woman water. In my dreams Hippocrates rises from the dead to send me to a mental institution. My diagnosis: woman.

—  The Myth of Crazy, Lora Mathis

Wow I’m so sorry if this is ridiculous long and really randomly put together….. like I hope it makes sense. 😂😂😂

I’ve been following this blog for quit sometime and other black women on Tumblr who I support whole heartedly. But like I get this weird feeling that I don’t belong here??
I’m mixed. My mother is German and my father African American. Typical story. My dad met my mom in germany while he was stationed there. They fell in love, had me and my brother… and eventually we all moved to America since my dad’s duties were finished.

So in Germany I never felt different. Well what exactly do I mean different… I’m a person. That’s all I felt, I never thought color was a thing?? My German family is used to interracial babies.. my eldest aunt has a mixed child and they weren’t surprised about me or my brother. All accepted and loved. We were a city full of mixed ethnicities so I had no idea that I was different.

Till I came to America. It’s the first time I heard “what are you? ” hahaha.

“I’m a person?” I’d say confused.

“NO like.. what are you? Where are you from? Like what language are you speaking? Why is your mother white? Your brother so light?? What? your dad’s black??”

As a 10 year old I had no idea what to think. The black side of my family in North Carolina treated my brother and I differently than the other kids in our family. My mother had to smile through all the mean comments. My dad had to endure that he brought in white to the family.

Our family reunion? Holy fuck. What a nightmare. I was 11. I think I mostly block it all out because I just remember the stares. Which makes me think of the time I didn’t realize my grandma was taking me to a hair salon to give me a perm. They cut my hair (grandma used it for weave no joke.) And before the process started my mother rushed in, grabbed me, cursed my grandmother out and drove my back to my grandparents house crying.. she apparently couldn’t bare the thought that my gma wanted my curls gone.

Let’s fast forwarder a few years. No contact to the family. My dad’s retired. We move from base and end up on the bad side of town. I end up in a magnet school. 75% black. 10% Hispanic and the rest random mix (whites and Asians. ) I grew up in a open country.. and I’m glad. I accepted all for who they were so I ended up having a mix of friend. Some who didn’t come clear with each other because of the side of the town we were on. Gang activities. (Clear backpacks. Security checks. Metal detector..) all that fun stuff. But… I was still looked at weird. I was told often “I wouldn’t understand.” “Why are you even tiring? Don’t worry about it.” I felt secluded. “Why are you speaking so white? Just because you’re of some color remember you’re still white. ”

Couple years later we moved. Starting over again. Typical life of an army brat right… who needs friends as a kid. Anyway. Alabama. This school? The opposite. 70% white 20% black and the rest a mix. Annnnd it starts again..

“ Where are you from. German. Yeah right. But you’re black. Your mom’s white? How’d that happen. Well you definitely sound white (I am now 24 years old and still don’t get what the fuck that means)…”

And now the best part. I had to fill out my ethnicity on a school poll.. what stands there. Black. White. Hispanic. Asian/pacific islander.

No mixed. No interracial. No other origins????

I asked my teacher what I should do.

I kid you not. He says to me “cross what you feel closer to.”

Cross. What you. Feel closer to.

People. This statement. This statement will never leave me.

What I feel closer to. That’s saying I am not one person. I am two. Do you feel white or do you feel black? Are you closer to one than the Other?????

Thissss. I was so pissed. I was in the 9th grade. I made my own goddamn box and wrote “german American”

This led to a call to the counselors office. I remember it well. Mrs.anderson. a beautiful intelligent black woman, the only black woman in facility. She took me in. Told me needed to cross an actual option.

I said I can’t. “ I’ll cross two. But I can’t cross one. I am not one or the other. I am black and I am white. I am German and African American. I am not one or the other.” I stood my ground..

She smiled at me. Told me she understood.. but said that even in this time and age, biracial people aren’t normal. She made me rewrite a new one. Leaving the race blank. I told her to mark what she wanted because I couldn’t imagine lying to myself even if it was just a county poll to figure out the ethnicity rate in our schools.

Until I graduated high school I had my ups and downs with being mixed. Never feeling like I belonged some where.. put aside the few good friends I acquired throughout the years who didn’t care about it but liked me for me. But I still never felt right????

College I met other biracial and many black women. We became a great group of friends. The campus called us the United nations haha since we were just a group of different mixed nationalities and colors.

The point of this confession is.. I never truly felt I belonged. Anywhere. Till about college. It was there I accepted the reality that I might not be accepted for who I am in some places. That I “talk too white” or “have the black girl attitude.” Still to this day I don’t really understand it and I find it pretty rude to say to anyone..

I am black. I am white. I am me. I’ve read many confessions and posts on Tumblr and it makes me ashamed to see what biracial (mostly black/white) say and do.

I swear to you not all are like that. I seriously love all… the skin tone of a man doesn’t make me decide if I want him. I find all black men, mixed men, light skin, white, Asian attractive… fuck where the love falls why does it matter.

Black women aren’t “crazy. Hard headed. With just attitudes. ” NO. Damn. They are Strong.. amazing and inspiring.. I follow so many of you and feel that.

I grew up loving people for who they are not how they look. And I will continue to do so even if most don’t do it for me.

I’m happy this blog exists. You guys are inspirational and amazing.. don’t let any one tell you, you aren’t. This German afro American is behind you 100%. ♡ #onelove.

'Avengers: Age of Ultron': Chris Evans wonders … Is Captain America a virgin?

EW: I feel like Cap is the noblest of all the characters. He’s the only one who knows what it’s like to be powerless. To be on the other side of fear.

Evans: He does have a healthy understanding of what it feels like to be powerless, to be the victim. But he also has a healthy understanding of what it is to be a soldier. I think anytime you meet anyone that’s been in the military, when you fight alongside someone they become a brother. I think in a weird way he looks at his Avengers as his family at this point.

EW: Is family what he wants? A bond with a fellow fighter?

Evans: It’s certainly what he wants, but Cap puts what he wants last. That’s his M.O. And I think for so long he just refuses to bleed on people. So it’s hard to explore a guy who doesn’t want to make waves with his own personal conflict. He’s always trying to help the greater good.

EW: Does that ever change?

Evans: That’s why it’s kind of exciting to look forward to Cap 3. I think we really scratched the surface on something great and I think there’s just so much to explore. Not just with the evolution of myself and [Anthony] Mackie’s character, but the reconnection with Bucky, and ultimately a relationship with a woman.

Muslim Women, Please Stop Marrying Crazy Men!

I start with the good.

I think it’s awesome we realize the value of marriage. I’m glad Muslim women are seriously searching for mates. That’s what we should be doing—it’s far better than the alternative—but we HAVE to be smart about it. These are our lives on the line. We are the ones with the wombs. We are the ones who take them into our bodies. There is a lot at stake. That’s why I make this plea: Muslim women, please stop marrying crazy men!

After hearing story after story about women who being deserted, women being abused (in various forms), women being cheated on (repeatedly), and women having their joy straight-up extinguished, I can’t stay silent any longer. No, I’m not blaming women for the deplorable actions of men—they’ll have to answer to Allah for their own deeds—but I am asking begging women to realize that not every person who calls themselves a Muslim is worthy of your hand.

I think Muslimah desperation has a lot to do with it. You may be wondering what Muslimah desperation is, but I’m certain you already know. If you’ve been Muslim longer than a month, you know. Certainly you’ve seen it. Maybe you’ve experienced it. But just to be sure we’re all on the same page, let me get a formal definition popping off.

I get it: no one wants to be lonely and we should hasten toward marriage, but that’s only after we’ve vetted a worthy mate. Therein lies the problem.

Muslimah mate selection

Yall know how we do. We’ll meet a brother, have a couple of supervised visits, start feeling butterflies, then make that speedy trip to the masjid for a quick nikkah. Keeping it Islamic, right? Wrong. Look at the example of Fatimah (ra). She didn’t “hasten toward marriage” when the first suitor came for her hand. She refused many though most of them had money and status. It wasn’t until the right man came, with proper character and a pure heart, that she agreed to marriage.

I know what you’re thinking, “But that was the Prophet’s daughter. She had a large selection and could afford to turn men down by the dozens. I’m over here struggling, trying to front like I’m not attracted to my non-Muslim coworker who keeps inviting me to lunch.” I hear you, sis.  It’s hard out here for a single Muslim woman, but we have to remember the point of marriage. It’s not JUST to be married, JUST to have a halal sex partner, JUST to have an excuse to get out of our parents’ houses. Marriage is about building—a family, a community, a legacy, a foundation for worship.  You can’t do with any ol’ guy.

And so when it comes to choosing someone to marry, we have to be patient and coherent enough to observe. A lot of times, we get caught up in the surface (lush beard, kufi on head, sajdah mark, rolled up pants, etc.). Not knocking any of that, but please know the bearded brother with the dhkir beads could cheat on you entertain potential co-wives on your honeymoon… It happens. I’m not saying any of this to vilify men who “look the part.” All I’m saying is this: do your due diligence, do not rush, don’t allow anyone to pressure you (including yourself and your parents), and watch for signs!  

Signs that you may be about to marry a crazy man

Sometimes men present themselves to be one thing and then turn out to be another. Other times, though, they show us straight out  who they are and we still marry them. Muslimah desperation strikes again. Here are some signs you might be about to make a bad choice.

  • Marrying someone you never met:

Sisters get into this situation when they hear there is a good brother in X state who is looking for a wife. He’s very religious and doesn’t want to waste any time in getting married. He’s Muslim, you’re Muslim, so the only halal option is to get married over the phone and then get to know each other after. Though it is always possible that the brother could turn out to be the man or your dreams, chances are slim… like, really, really slim. 

  • Marrying someone who’s been divorced many times (often with very short-lived marriages):

Some brothers have no interest in building. They only want a few months of sex. Of course, they don’t tell the women that. The wives find out after they realize they’ve been lured into an empty marriage.  

  • Marrying someone who has no job and is not at all bothered by his lack of employment: 

To be clear, I’m not talking about a hard-working brother who is between jobs. I mean the guy who is GOOD not working. He lives with his parents or someone else and is quick to utter vague statements like, “Allah will provide” when you question him about how he’ll provide for his family.

  • Marrying someone in the “street pharmaceuticals” industry:

*Sigh* I wish I were making this up, but wallahi it is an issue. There are Muslim men who refuse to get a legitimate job because, and I quote, “I don’t want to work for the kuffar.” So instead of finding a Muslim company to work for or starting a halal business, they choose to sell drugs.

  • Marrying someone who doesn’t seem all that happy to marry you:

Marriage doesn’t get easier after the wedding; it gets harder. So if he seems uninterested/distracted/not that into you from the start, it will only get worse. Don’t settle for a man just because he is willing to marry you. He should be overjoyed, happy you chose him!

  • Marrying someone who has a markedly different interpretation of Islam:

This doesn’t necessarily mean he is crazy, but it may be the cause of a lot of frustration, assumptions and miscommunication that could leave YOU feeling crazy. It’s easy to assume all Muslims believe the same thing, but one person’s understanding may be very different from your own. If you don’t discuss these things before marriage, you won’t know.

  • Becoming a co-wife without first meeting the existing wife:

Who knows better of a man’s character than his wife? If you are open to being a co-wife, would it not make sense that you talk to the woman you’ll be sharing a husband with? If he is not open to this, he’s suspect. It is not at all unreasonable for you to expect an introduction. You need to hear what she has to say and gauge whether or not she is open to your presence. If she isn’t, think long and hard about entering into a marriage that may be full of drama.

  • Marrying a hijab nazi:

Before things get misconstrued, let me explain what a hijab nazi is not. A man who wants his wife to wear hijab isn’t a hijab nazi. A man who wants his wife to dress modestly isn’t a hijab nazi. That’s expected. A hijab nazi is a man who is harsh and overly critical of women’s clothing—even when they are already dressed properly. For example, a man who gets upset with his wife because she wore a (perfectly modest) red dress instead of one that is black or storm cloud gray is a hijab nazi. There is no prohibition against color. 

Narrated Anas bin Malik that he had seen Um Kulthum, the daughter of Allah’s Apostle, wearing a red silk garment. (Buhkari ,7.733)

  • Marrying a jerk:

Ladies, please know that a man who doesn’t appear to be kind, loving, thoughtful and compassionate toward others will not be kind, loving, thoughtful or compassionate toward you. Sometimes women will overlook a man’s sourpuss demeanor because he prays frequently and visits the masjid often. Of course these are wonderful qualities, but if the peace and contentment those things should bring aren’t evident in his behavior, you have to question his sincerity. Consider the following Bukhari hadith (2038): Anas, who was his [Prophet Muhammad’s] helper, said: “I served Allah’s Messenger for ten years and he never said to me, ‘Shame’ or ‘Why did you do such-and-such a thing?’ or ‘Why did you not do such-and-such a thing?’” If the beloved prophet was this kind to his helpers, imagine the way he treated his wives. That is the behavior you should seek in a husband. Until you find that, do not marry. Yes, that’s easier said that done, but it is much better for your heart and soul in the long run. 

Keeping Muslimah desperation at bay

If we are to avoid marrying crazy men, we have to keep our yearnings and desires in check. That’s hard to do when your friends are all married, sex is everywhere, and sensible mates seem to be nowhere. I see the dilemma, but I also see the dilemma of pained women who are in tortured marriages with men who turned out to be nothing like they had assumed. And when many of them look back, they can admit that they didn’t think things through clearly. That’s all I want: clear minds and well-thought-out decisions. 

I know what it’s like to want to be married and not have anyone (worthwhile) to marry, but you have to believe that Allah will bless you with a mate. Don’t ever allow yourself to despair and think, “There are no good men left.” The moment you concede to that pseudo-fact, you begin to attract the very energy you believe exists. If you exist and you are a good woman, it shouldn’t be hard to believe that a man exists who is also good. You MUST believe in the possibility of happiness. If not, what are you implying of your Lord who put within you the very desire you seek to fill? Did He not create this world, this sun, this continually expanding universe? Did he not put air in your lungs and life in your heart? Do you honestly think it’s too much for Him to put a good man in your life? Surely, you don’t believe that. 

robots-and-turtles  asked:

(I imagined today that the first time Yoshi goes to the refrigerator, Chey, Anna, and Kaitlyn start singing 'Be Our Guest' to him because they want him to feel welcome at their home. He just slowly realizes these three women are crazy.)

 *Splinter voice* “Oh, I see why they were so quick to accept me, they’re a bunch of dorks.”

To be fair, for the last fifteen years the only people he’s had contact with (excluding April maybe) were either scared of him, trying to kill him, or crazy
So it probably just feels like home XD


Ok Auntie MJ,

My roommate/best friend and I have the serious issue of not understandingwhy menstruation is something that we’re supposed to be ashamed of oruncomfortable with when we have zero control over it. I don’t understand whywe’re supposed to be grossed out by the fact that we have no control of when we start, how much we bleed, or how long it lasts. Why are menstrual products so expensive when condoms are often free or very very cheap and very easily accessible?? It is something that makes me very angry and frustrated. Like my roommate is 20 and only just started having her period regularly and she gets made fun of all the time because she never had to deal with it before so she’s just now learning….This is just something that I know a lot of girls struggle with and the struggle doesn’t end when you grow up. I’m 20 and it’s still a problem.

—  ramblingsofahopefulwriter

Dear Hopeful,

Be of good cheer! Auntie MJ is here and she is MORE THAN HAPPY to discuss this. This entire answer is going to be full of period facts and period fictions and personal period stories.

The history of menstruation-hate is long. I am not an expert on the subject, but I know it goes WAY BACK. Certainly there are instances in the Bible referring to it, and explaining that that is the time of the month when women are “unclean” and have to go sleep in a different tent. There are, I am certain, places in the world where even now women are made to go somewhere else to sleep when menstruating. But it goes far beyond where we rest. It’s seen as (one of our many) weakness and problems and something that makes us unfit to old certain jobs and is generally used as an excuse for prejudice against us. Also jokes. Except the jokes are not funny if we make them because gross, right? How dare we. (Tina Fey tells a story about this in Bossypants. She had a lot of trouble getting a sketch about classic pads into the show because a lot of the men were just very, very uncomfortable and didn’t understand why it was HILARIOUS. Which it is. You can see it here.

When you first get the news as a kid that this is about to happen to you (if you are one of the people it will happen to), it can be a bit of a shocker. My reaction was something like, “Wait, what now? Every month? Actual blood? What?” The reason is actually awesome. People who menstruate have at least some of the required equipment to make other people. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you can, or that you have to or want to or anything like that. It just means that some or all of the parts are there and that the factory is doing its thing.

Periods cannot be compared. Every one is its own unique thing. While there aspects that are generally the same from person to person, there are many variables as well—frequency, duration, amount, pain, tiredness, hormonal changes, emotional changes. The range of what is healthy and normal is vast. If you have questions about what is healthy and normal, speak to your doctor. Some weird period behavior can be a sign of a problem. I found this out when I was diagnosed with endometriosis. I had no idea what I was experiencing was not normal, because I’d always had my period, and my period was its own thing. “Do you bleed heavily?” I was asked. I shrugged. I’d never measured it. “Well,” he said, “do you have to put down a towel or a blanket at night?” I laughed and said, “Doesn’t everyone do that?” Not everyone does that. But a lot of people do! (My most recent breakthrough: our dog is now fully housetrained and we had a huge pack of puppy wee-wee pads just sitting around. I was wondering what to do with them and then I had a Lightbulb Moment and now they go right into the bed. I feel like a true household pioneer for working this one out. THIS WORKS. TRY IT FOR YOURSELF.)

My point is, as long as your doctor says that medically what is going on is fine—it’s fine. And even if it’s troublesome, it doesn’t make you weird. There is no judgment on this. There is no Ms. Period Contest in which your period will be judged. Who are these people making fun of your friend for getting her period at twenty? I have serious questions about this. Send them here. I need to Speak To Them.

While a period can be messy—in the sense that any liquid spill can be messy—it is not dirty. Springing a leak is annoying. Some people feel soul-crushing embarrassment when this happens. I cannot feel you how to feel about this, but I can tell you I certainly will feel nothing but empathy on your behalf. I will tell you something that happened to me only a few months ago! I was AT A REALLY FANCY DINNER and the period came from nowhere like a WEASEL in the NIGHT! I didn’t even know it was happening. For once, it gave no sign. I had a Strange Feeling That Something Was Wrong. I carefully reached around and confirmed my suspicion. I realized that I had likely taken out the chair I was in, which luckily was made of wood. I continued to talk as normal while I made a detailed plan of the room in my mind and figured out how to get from my seat to the bathroom while keeping my back turned away from people as much as possible (try doing this in a crowded restaurant). This involved a lot of sliding along walls to politely stay out of the path of imaginary waiters. When I got to the bathroom, I realized the extent of the damage. Things were bad. My outfit was ruined. I texted a friend at the table and asked if I could borrow her sweater. She came and brought it to me and spent the rest of the night cold. I managed to clean the chair. The cloth napkin, well, that came home with me. I figured it was no longer any use to the restaurant. The skirt was a lost cause. Of course, there is always the matter of making the IMPROMPTU arrangements in the bathroom. We have all had to MacGyver our way out of this situation. ANYTHING WILL DO. (Note to TV executives: one show I would watch FOR SURE would be PERIOD MACGYVER in which someone gets their period in increasingly awkward situations and has to build a pad out of whatever is on hand. You could start with the usual suspects like paper and cloth and build to more exotic items, eventually culminating in someone stopping a bomb from going off by using their period. I would watch THE HELL out of that.) 

I continued the rest of the dinner as though nothing had happened, because really, nothing had. I tell this story because I have NO PROBLEMS with this. IT HAPPENS. You can borrow my sweater to tie around your waist. And thank you to everyone who has lent me a sweater or coat to tie around mine.

As to why period items are not free and available everywhere—ask the patriarchy. In the meantime, they are one of the most needed items in shelters and YOU CAN DONATE THEM because they are really needed!

People who use periods as prejudice against individuals who get them are being gross and ignorant. “But!” these ***holes say, “periods make you crazy! That’s why women can’t hold office! They’d blow everything up!” Period-havers, usually women, have been handling business and being rational for millennia while dealing with sometimes major hormonal flux. Warmongers and bomb-throwers and civilization destroyers (often men) are…oh right. No, no. Do go on. I was listening. There was just a wonderful bird over your shoulder and I was looking at it. It’s gone now. Don’t look for it. It flew away.

Some emotional fluctuation is common. THIS IS TRUE OF ALL HUMAN BEINGS.

In some cases, periods can cause serious states of mental distress. Here’s another fact to blow your mind: serious states of mental distress are found in ALL SUBSETS OF HUMAN BEINGS. Many women have been pathologized for their period-having because jerks have also been around for a long time. Much of this prejudice was spread by experts, some of whom also believed that the uterus moved around the body like some kind of spider. Some just thought the period must be bad because…

…because? Period? Because women? Because must be?

Guess what, chumps. The fact that you have a vague sense of unease about my period is balanced out by the fact that I don’t actually care. I wish you well in your travels through your own notions, but I have reality to contend with and a pad to built out of nothing but a wrench, two feet of fishing rope, and these bomb parts.

You’re doing fine. Period.


Auntie MJ

Chapter 19


Kevin walked in, and I closed the door behind him. I should’ve never answered the damn door. Kevin and I were half brothers. Same mother different father’s. He lived with his dad, and I with my mom. I cut all ties off with Kevin years ago. He’s the reason I had to a hop a plane to New York, and play dead for all these years. I could kill him because it resulted in me losing my child.

“Well, well, well, I haven’t seen my two favorite people in years! I hope I wasn’t interrupting.” He said smiling slyly.

“You were asshole, I was getting some dick” India grumbled lowly making me chuckle.

She was going to have the nastiest attitude until he left. She hated being interrupted. If it was up to her, I’d have her bent over that living room couch instead of answering the door.

“How do y’all know each other? And where you find me at? Don’t avoid the question!” I said irritated.

“Well if you must know. India used to work with me, and well I heard through the grapevine you and Carmen had a kid, so I found her and convinced her to tell me where you stay at” he said with that same stupid grin.

He was up to something, and I knew it wasn’t going to be good.

“Work together? What you mean?! And I should’ve known it was her, I see y’all are still friends” I said shaking my head.

“Trey I’m going to change, he is the last person I want to be around right now. Get rid of him, and come upstairs so I can ride it daddy” she said making sure to whisper the last part, and make my dick jump at the same time.

I smirked down at her and pecked her lips before whispering in her ear “keep it wet for me.”

She giggled and walked away leaving us there as she ascended up the steps. I was glad she left though. There were some things we needed to address, and I didn’t need her to hear about it. I looked at him, and he licked his lips watching her pick up her shoes and walk off. I gritted my teeth because he was a little too fascinated with what was mine, and for too long.

“What you really want nigga? And what the fuck you mean she worked for you? Your work ain’t work!” I said stating the obvious.

He laughed “you know what I do bro. I make shit happen whether it’s good or bad. I just helped her get back at her folks for a short while. Had I known this India was the India you were always talking about I wouldn’t of gotten involved with her.”

I sighed “man what you want?”

“Well I came to talk to you about Carmen and Violet. There’s a few things you need to know about your baby momma.” He said following me into the kitchen taking a seat at the nook table.

I was skeptical about anything that involved this fool. I knew how he got down, and it wasn’t clean. It was a bit aggravating to find out this was the nigga she was associated with. Before we even got into Carmen I had one question. I hoped the answer was what I hoped.

“Hold up, brah. You fucked my girl?” I asked studying his snake ass closely.

“I mean-” he started, but that already gave me the confirmation I needed.

I walked up on him before he could even finish and punched him dead in the mouth. While Kevin never met India and vise versa as of yet when we were dating, I showed him pictures of her. This was exactly like him. It didn’t matter what I had he had to somehow get his hands on it. He’s a fuckboy that’s why I tried to keep my girl away from him.

“Damn, it’s like that?” He asked grabbing his jaw.

“Nigga you knew that was mine, so you lucky I don’t kill you literally. What the fuck you came here to tell me? Make it quick, and get the fuck out!” I grumbled.

He balled his fist, but he knew better than to challenge me. Yeah I was younger, but he wasn’t stronger than I was. He ain’t stupid.

“Man, I came here to put your stupid ass on, and you gonna hit me for some bitch? I’m out brah” he said storming off holding his face.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t come back, and stay away from my lady. I really don’t want to have to put hands on you my nigga” I called out to him as he left making sure to slam the front door.

I shook my head, and locked the door before heading upstairs to India. I was real irritated, but I really want to know what he wanted to tell me. I learned not to trust anybody, and if Carmen was hiding something from me best believe I was going to find out.

I walked into the room, and she was sitting on the bed in her lingerie brushing her long black hair. I leaned against the frame, and watched her. I honestly loved no one as much as I did her. She was everything to me. The fact that Kevin touched what was mine really bothered me. The other women didn’t matter, but India; I want her to be my wife, and the mother of my kids.

“Baby, aren’t you coming to bed?” she smiled noticing me standing at the doorway.

“Yeah, but India?” I asked needing to know what happened between those two.

“What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

I closed my eyes, and sighed “baby how many times, how long were you involved with my brother? It’s killing me.”

She got off the bed and stood in front of me putting her hands to my face gently “I didn’t know Trey, if I knew I would’ve never. I could never do that to you, but it was twice. I swear it was completely physical and not emotional, we’ve never even kissed. I’m sorry baby.”

I picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist as well as her arms around my neck “you, make being mad at you hard. You so bad.”

She giggled “seriously baby I’m sorry I hurt you. What did he want though?”

I walked to our sitting area in the room and sat us on the couch “it’s alright I believe you, but he wanted to tell me something about Carmen, but I snuffed his ass cause of you so he bounced.”

She kissed my lips, and everything else became real irrelevant to me at that moment. She opened her mouth to say something else, but I put a finger on her lips “I can’t wait till you have my baby beautiful.”

She blushed and kissed my lips with intense passion “let’s keep practicing until then.”

I chuckled and began picking up where I left off downstairs. I didn’t want my moment with India ruined, but Kevin was still sitting in the back of my mind. This situation was going to be addressed tomorrow no doubt, but right now I just wanted time with my woman.


“Daddy, are you and mommy going to be happy tagain?” Christian asked as I tucked him in bed.

Kids man. They notice a change in everything no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“What do you mean little man?” I asked him trying to make sure I gave him the best answer.

“Mommy, on the phone wiff Untie Ashie, she said she misses you” he said making me smile.

“Look, I love mommy a whole lot, I miss her too, but I have to work so you can have all the toys you want. Don’t worry about mommy and me ok we’re good” I said rubbing his head.

He yawned “otay, I love you daddy. See you when you come back home.”

I hugged him “I love you too, man. Now bed!”

I said pulling the covers up for him when he laid down. I plugged in his night light, and he was out like a light. When I walked out his room Robin was walking down the hall. I wanted nothing more than to reach out, and wrap her up in my arms, but I couldn’t. It killed me.

“My baby sleeping?” She asked.

I nodded “yeah, just fell out. You know he asked me if me and mommy are going to be happy again.”

She smiled and headed toward our bedroom “I wish.”

I followed her simply because I really wanted to talk. I was tired of arguing, and honestly earlier tonight I said we needed a break, but that ain’t what I want. I want my shorty, but those words she hit me with keep playing in the back of my mind. I knew Robin, and she talked a lot of shit, but it was something about the way she said it.

“Why not make your wish come true?” I asked grabbing her arm to stop her from walking away from me,

“I’d love that, but Chris you slept with someone else. I get what I said was fucked up, but damn if you was gonna cheat you couldn’t pick a random? It had to be her? Like I would’ve even considered letting it go, but there’s clearly something there, and you need to figure it out” she said pulling away from my arms.

I sighed “so, what we on this break then what?”

She shrugged “I honestly don’t know. And I don’t want to confuse my baby more than he already is. Chris you hurt me don’t you understand that?”

“I’m sorry Robin, I admit there’s a stupid attachment to her, but don’t you understand what losing you will do to me? I thought you understood that I mean it everyday I tell you I can’t and I won’t live without you.” I said backing her up against the wall so she wouldn’t run from me.

“Chris stop it alright you made your bed, and now you gotta lay in it” she said trying to push me away, but it was no use.

“You know what, imma give you what you want. Imma head back to the facility tonight. We’ll talk whenever” I said before grabbing my hat and heading out leaving her there looking dumbfounded.

I’m so sick of this brah, like I’m trying to fix it fucking work with me!


I was so restless today. My contractions were getting to be really annoying. They were so close together I just knew the baby would be coming sooner than later. I got up to use the bathroom when the inevitable finally happened. My water broke.

“AUGUSTTTTTT” I screamed.

He ran into the bedroom frantic “baby, what happened?”

“My water broke baby, we have to go” I said calmly.

I stood there watching him run around like a dog in heat. He was trying to gather all the stuff, and when he finally did he ran out the room leaving me. How do you forget the most important part of your baby being born I’m lost.

A few seconds later he came back in the room “you should come too.”

I was in pain leaning against the bed, but I couldn’t help but laugh “really? How’d you guess?”

He rushed to my side, and helped me downstairs, and out the house into the car. I honestly don’t get why women act crazy during labor. Like yeah I’m in pain, but it’s not finna make the baby come faster so I plan on staying as relaxed as I possibly can.

“You ok baby?” Aug asked grabbing my hand.

“Yeah I’m fine, these damn contractions are something else though hence my fidgeting” I said making him chuckle.

The hospital wasn’t far from us, so we made it there quickly. I was smart, and had a room reserved for privacy. I wanted my baby to into the world peacefully. August pulled up to the front of the hospital, and got me checked in as well as sent off to my room before going to park the car.

“Call my mom and sister baby please!” I said before the nurse wheeled me off to the elevator.

My baby boy is coming!

I was a pretty child.

At the age of 4, while on vacation with my family, I was swimming in a kiddie pool when a man sat by the edge and watched me. My mom immediately went over and he told her how beautiful I was, how someday I would be a gorgeous woman. My mom took me out of the pool right away.  

At the age of 5, my mother was approached about putting me in beauty pageants. She asked if I wanted to do it and I said no. I wasn’t comfortable with being the center of attention, and I was even more fearful of failing. At beauty. I was 5.

At the age of 8, I overheard my parents talking about a colleague of my father’s, who passed me as I was waiting for my bus in the morning and told my father to “lock me up” away from all of the boys. That scared me.

I began overeating and gaining weight then. I look back and wonder if that was a defense mechanism, that maybe I would be less of a target if I gained weight.  

At the age of 11, I started developing, so quickly that two boys followed me around, taunting me about stuffing my bra. Other boys felt it was okay to ask me how big they were or stare.

At the age of 12, I wore clothes that were way too large for me, even though I was bigger than I wanted to be. Big t-shirts hid my breasts. But they didn’t stop the taunting. 

At the age of 13, I had a boyfriend. He told everyone I promised to show him my infamous breasts after a few months, then sleep with him on our year anniversary. I never said anything like that. But I questioned myself, wondering if I said anything that could have been misunderstood. I blamed myself for those rumors.

At the age of 14, boys really only spoke to me about my breasts or taunted me for my size. I started giving it back to them. That was when a boy punched me in the face for defending myself.

At the age of 15, I had enough of the bullying about my weight, so I started dieting and working out. I also had a crush on a boy and thought he would actually like me if I was skinny. I lost 50 pounds. 

Maybe I was pretty again, I thought. Maybe. But it didn’t help anything.

At the age of 16, I dreaded family events because my aunt’s creepy new husband would leer at me and make comments about my weight. “Stick out your tongue,” he’d say. “Look, you’re a zipper.” He’d grill me about my diet. I had to give him weight updates every time I saw him. 

At the age of 17, I started dating an older boy. I thought my problems with high school boys would disappear. A year into our relationship, he told me that he would have broken up with me if I hadn’t slept with him. He threatened to kill me. I stayed with him even longer, because he told me I was pretty and I thought he was nice.

At the age of 18, I went to college. I thought my problems with immature boys would be over. One night around midnight, I heard knocking on the main door outside of my dorm. I went out in my pajamas to open the door to let them in. They followed me to my door and called me fat and ugly. I told myself I shouldn’t have let them in.

In my 20′s, I put up a wall. I gained all of the weight back, then some. The few guys who were persistent enough to get through it were mostly jerks. I was told that I was cold, that my long streak of having no serious boyfriend was because I didn’t put myself out there. I wasn’t available to them.

At the age of 26, I met my now-husband, far away from my home. He was the first male outside of my dad who I ever felt truly safe with. He was also the first man who didn’t make me feel objectified in some way. He barely comments on how I look, nor does he comment on how other women look. He doesn’t care when I don’t shave my legs or wear old comfy clothes around the house. He laughs when I make a joke or act silly. He’s never called me crazy when I get emotional. We are best friends. 

But at the age of 32, I still question my own worth because my husband doesn’t see me as an object. Does he think I am attractive if he doesn’t tell me every day? Does he really love me or is he just in this for something? I question it, because my whole life, I was told either by action or by words that I was a commodity to men. 

The sad thing is that everything I mentioned is the result of a privileged life. It is minor, the life of a middle class white woman who hasn’t experienced a fraction of the shit that other women have faced. That’s why I get furious when men pull out the “not all men” argument because ALL women have at some point been a victim to men. Even those of us who haven’t had to deal with the heaviest burdens have been victimized in some way. 

Why is this coming out today? It’s just something I’ve been thinking about since summer school last week, when I started noticing the male students making obscene gestures behind my back. I don’t think they were about me, but they nonetheless make me really uncomfortable. And it puts me right into that mindset of never feeling safe, that familiar pit in my stomach knowing that males think they have some power over me. When I confronted them about it, they gaslighted me. “What are you talking about, miss? You’re crazy.” 

I’m not crazy. This is all too familiar to me. It’s too familiar to every woman out there, in some way or another. This is why I advocate for women. We’re not crazy. We’re just sick of the shit.

anonymous asked:

Could you make the other gods too? That story what do you with Ichthys we will meet again story?

The sky is dark and thunder is flashing all over the sky, strong wind is blowing and the earth seems to be going to destruction anytime soon. You blame yourself for being careless and allow the dark King captured you. Although you are saved by the gods, but the dark King had managed to obtain a stain of your blood which increases his power significantly. He is determining to destroy the earth and the only person that can stop him is Leon. Leon is next powerful beside the King. His power can overcome the situation but also mean that he will be scarified. You refused to let him go and keep grabbing his hand.

“I need to go. Remember that I always love you.” Leon said sadly and passionately. For the first time, you see tear in his eyes. You shake your head refuse to acknowledge the fact that he will be gone forever. Leon suddenly pushes you away and shouted,“ Karno, take care of her and don’t let her come near me.”

Karno oblige to Leon’s request in pain but he know that he need to keep you safe for now. However, you refuse to listen and shouted at him to let go of you. The rest of the gods tried to stop you but you are not listening.

“Please let me go with him. I will be as good as dead without him.” You begged in tears.

Karno heart softens for a while and you make use of the opportunity to break free from him. You ran over to Leon and wrapped your arms around him. “I am going with you. I am not going to let you scarify alone.” You cried.

Leon looks at you in pain and hugs you tightly. He then leans in to give you a passionate kiss before whispered into your ears. “Remember my sign in my eyes and we will find each other in next life.” Leon then leans in for another deep kiss before both of you vanished in the air when Leon releases all his power. Soon, the sky turn clear.

Many Years later
You are assigned as a secretary for the new promoted Manager. You have heard rumour about him and he is very popular with woman but he can be tough to deal with as well. However, he don’t seem to be any interested in woman and some people even wonder if he is a gay because he does not even bother when women throw themselves to him. You are amazed by his look and you can understand why women are so crazy over him. However, you have to work professional since he is your boss now.

“Good Morning! My name is _____ and I am your secretary starting today.” You smiled and bow professionally.

“My name is Leon and I hope you can keep up with my pace.” Leon replied back, giving you a brief look.

Work is crazy but at least you manage to keep work organize and Leon seems to be happy with your work. He seems to soften his attitude with you as well. One night, both of you have to work late to rush out a project. However, you soon realized that you lost you pendant which you like it a lot. You search your desk all over for it but can’t seem to fine it.

“What are you flipping at your desk?” Leon asked.

“I lost something important.” You replied without looking at him. “Yes, i found it.” You blinked in happiness and hold up the “Leo” sign pendent in your hand.

“Are you born in the sign of Leo? You can get it again anytime.” Leon rebuked.

“I am not from Leo sign. However, when I first cast my sight on the pendent, affection evolved inside me. Subsequently, I keep dreaming of it every night even until now. It seem like it is trying to tell me something or leading me to someone.” You replied gently. “I bet that you are laughing at me now.” You continued.

To your surprised, Leon suddenly walks closer to you. He then holds out another similar pendent in his hand. “I have the same dream as well. What does it mean?” Leon muttered.

Since then, both your relationship improved but it is still Superior and Subordinate relationship, although you can’t deny that you have been thinking more of him since then. One evening, you heard some colleagues whispering bad thing about Leon. You recognized one of them since Leon rejected her feeling in the morning. She is now claiming that Leon is a gay which is why she was rejected. You can’t stand the way how she talks bad about him and rebuked fiercely at the woman.

“He is definitely not. He just does not like to mix feeling with business. He is a serious worker.” You shouted back. The women quickly make their exit and you turn to leave as well. However, you saw Leon standing at the corner looking at you in amuse. He then walks over and drag you to his office.

“Why are you defending me?” Leon asked and closed the gap between both of you.

“I hate the fact that they do not understand you enough and talk bad about you.” You explained and move backward to avoid Leon.

“So you are saying that you understand me?” Leon asked again and eventually pushed you against the wall.

“Well…” You do not how to explain and dare not even look at him in his eyes. You can feel your heart beat increasing and at loss of words.

“You are an interesting woman.” Leon whispered, as he lifts up your chin. He then lean in and place a deep kiss on your lips.

You are surprise but did not push him away. You can feel his love in the kiss and soon melted in his kiss. You finally understand the uneasy feeling in your heart recently. You are in love with him. You slowly wrapped your hands around his back and return his kiss passionately.

“You are a strange woman and not many can stand working with me. I guess that sign really mean something for us in the past.” Leon whispered and leans in for another kiss. “Stay with me forever.” He continues. That night, both of you reveal your feeling to each other and you are glad that sign really brought you to someone who will love you deeply.

At the Reflective Pool

“They finally found each other again.” Karno said gently.

“They are just meant to be with each other.” Hue added.

“Well, at least we can ease our mind now. I am sure Leon going to protect her from now on.” Teorus chuckled.