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Readers, make sure you have all your favourite Ao3 fics downloaded.
Writers, make sure you have copies of all the fics you have posted on Ao3.
I don鈥檛 want to be alarming, but things could get really bad really fast. OTW shared this today on Twitter, and I'm a bit worried about it 馃槄
Ao3 is a non-profit organisation. If they have to start paying taxes, I have no idea what will happen.
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a whole episode about a cart cop and brad. a whole midseason finale.
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this is so funny. Imagining myself near death and ryan guzman and oliver stark showing up to quote the will scene with me. Thats what just happened
i cant lie im delusional it wouldve worked on me.
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the tradwife movement is the same as it has always been - back in the kitchen, back to breeding - it just has better branding.
when i was younger, i hated pink. i was not like other girls. this is now something i'm embarrassed of - this was not me being a "girl's girl."
but it was expressing something many of us felt at the time: i literally wasn't what girlhood was supposed to be. this is a hard thing to explain, but you know when you're not performing girlhood correctly. it isn't as easy as "i liked x when girls liked y" - because there were other girls that liked x, too - but i never figured out exactly the correct way to like x, or to be interested in y.
now there is the divine feminine. this is the same rhetoric it has always been: women are biologically driven to like pink and ribbons and submitting to our husbands.
the problem is that the patriarchy found a better PR team. because yes, actually, i want every woman to have the choice to be a homemaker. i also want her taken seriously for her legitimate home-making labor. i want her to be recognized as also having a job, just unpaid. i want men to have this opportunity, too.
but it is no longer "i made this choice and I love it." instead it is a sixteen-paragraph rant about how selfish it is that my generation isn't having kids. instead it's long videos about how if you feed your children processed foods, you're going to kill them. instead it is "this is what womanhood is supposed to be. i feel bad for any other choices you're making."
the shame spiral is just prettier. it is large houses devoid of personality. it is the implication: if you don't have this, you aren't happy. the solid, everlasting assurance: women are actually supposed to be submitting. this is the default. this is the natural state of things. all other attempts inflict suffering.
but you can no longer say i'm not like other girls. you can no longer reject this image completely. you cannot find it revolting, even if you know that the underbelly is toxic and festering. sure, it is the same repackaged patriarchy. but the internet does not have shades of grey. you should support and reward other women! your disgust is actually internalized misogyny. not because you are seeing a vision of yourself the way they're trying to train you to be. not because you feel her ghost pass within an inch of your earlobe. not because your father will eventually ask you - why can't you be like her?
because they figured out how to make it beautiful: women will sell other women on this idea, and we will find the singular loophole in feminism. sure, she's shaming you in most of her videos. sure, she implies that a different life is obscene. but she just wants you to be happy! you'd be happier if you were listening!
and the whole time you're sitting there thinking: i'd actually just be happier if i had that kind of money.
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buck used his key, came in with a gift basket of baked goods, offered to make eddie snickerdoodles, thought eddie was watching porn, pointed out eddie was wearing a fancy little button down, said they can look for homes in el paso TOGETHER ON THE COUCH, then was hit in the head with the realization that his best friend might be leaving him. literally what the fuck ever
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It鈥檚 that time of year. Reblog with how many you鈥檝e heard of.
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Feeling the need to apologize for being mentally ill is a miserable, miserable thing.
I鈥檓 sorry I can鈥檛 focus well, I鈥檓 sorry I get all scrambled when I talk, I鈥檓 sorry I get sad easily or for no reason, I鈥檓 sorry I can鈥檛 keep my room clean. I鈥檓 sorry if I embarrass you by crying in public, or if I annoy you when I talk about things that I鈥檝e told you about twenty times already.
I鈥檇 act normal if I knew how, but that鈥檚 just not the way my brain works.
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