#and im in a minority !!

[soularsss]

the dirt under your fingernails

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[napping-sapphic]

*large resigned sigh* i would be SO good at being someone’s pathetic girlfriend

[inkskinned]

the thing about some men is that they want you to remember, at all times, that you are underneath them. that with one word or look or "joke", you will stay beneath them. that even "exceptions" to the rule are not true exceptions - the commonly cited statistic that one in eight men believe they could win against serena williams.

women's gymnastics is often not seen as real gymnastics. whatever the fuck non-euclidian horrors rhythmic gymnasts are capable of, it's often tamped down as being not a sport. some of the most dominant athletes in the world are women. nobody watches women's soccer. despite years of dancing and being built like a fucking brick, men always assume they're faster and stronger than i am. you wouldn't like what happens when they are incorrect. once while drunk at a guy's house i won a held-plank challenge by a solid minute. the party was over after that - he became exceedingly violent.

what i mean is that you can be perfect, and they still think you're ... lacking, somehow. i hope you understand i'm trying to express a neutral statement when i say: taylor swift was the possibly the most patriarchy-palatable, straight-down-the-line woman we could churn out. she is white, conventionally attractive, usually pretty mild in personality. say what you will about her (and you should, she's a billionaire, she can handle it), but a few things seem to be true about her: 1. she can write a damn catchy song, and 2. the eras tour truly was a massive commercial success and was also genuinely an impressive feat of human athleticism and performance.

i don't know if she deserves the title of "woman of the year," i'm not debating that in this post. what i am saying is that she was named Woman of The Year, and then an untalented man got onstage at the golden globes and made fun of her for attending her boyfriend's football games. what i am saying is that this woman altered local economies - and her dating life is still being made into a "harmless" punchline. the camera panned, greedy, over to her downing a full glass of champagne. congratulations taylor! you are woman of the year! but you are a woman. even her.

fuck, man. write better material.

a guy gets onstage at a college graduation and despite the fact like half the crowd is made up of women, he spends a significant proportion of it warning these people - who spent possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars on their education - that they were lied to. that the "real" meaning of femininity is motherhood. that they shouldn't rest on the laurels of that education-they-paid-for but instead throw it away to kneel at a man's heel. imagine that. sweating in your godawful polyester gown (that you also had to pay for!), fresh out of 4 years of pushing yourself ever-harder: and some guy you've never met - who knows nothing about you - he reminds you this "win" is a pyrrhic one at best. you really shouldn't consider yourself that extraordinary. you're still a woman, even after years of study.

god forbid you are not a pretty woman, but if you are pretty, you must be dumb. god forbid you are not ablebodied or white or cis or straight or good at swallowing. you must be beneath a man, or else they are not a man. the equation for masculinity seems to just be: that which is not a woman or womanly (god forbid). anything "feminine" is thereby anathema. to engage in "feminine" things such as therapy, getting a hug from a friend, or crying - it is giving up ones manhood. therefore women need to be put in their place to ensure that masculinity is protected.

this is something i have struggled to explain to terfs - they are not doing the work of feminism, but rather the patriarchy. by asserting that women and men must be (on some secret level) oppositional and in conflict, they also assume that being a woman is akin to being another species. but bigotry does not stem from observational truths or clarity - that is what makes it bigotry. there was nothing in my childhood that made me fundamentally different from my brother. we are treated differently nonetheless. to assert there is some biological drive that enforces my gender role is to assert that women have a gendered role. men do not see women as equal to them not because of biological reality - but instead because the core tenant of the patriarchy is that women aren't full, realized people.

we are told from a very young age to excuse misbehavior as a single man's choice - not all men. it is not all men, just that one guy. all women are gold-digging bitches who belong in the kitchen - but if a man is mean, bigoted, or violent to you, it's just that particular guy, and that means nothing about men-as-a-whole. it is only one guy who got mad when you gently rejected him. it is only one guy who warns her this trophy is heavy, are you sure you can hold it? it is only one guy who smashes her face into the cake. it is only one guy talking into a mic about hating our bodily autonomy.

i have just found that they often wait until the moment we actually seem to be upstaging them. you sit in a meeting where you're presenting your own findings and he says get me a coffee? or you run to the end of the marathon and are about to finish first and he pushes your kids out in front of you. you win the chess game and they make some comment akin to well, you're ugly away. we can be the billionaire and get the dream life and finally fucking do it and yet! still! they have this strange, visceral urge to say well actually, if you think you're so great -

it's not one just one guy. it's one in eight.

[shepscapades]

Contrary to popular belief etho and bdubs are not divorced and in this essay I will

[trin0dinz]

I know it hurts, but self-sabotage won't make it any better either

[ashoss]

long time no timkon

based on this post and the original video is by jake webber called "target shopping with my ex" :D

[hinamie]

brighter days ahead

[confessionseddie]

buck: eddie: 😊

[hai-nae]

uno reverse

[bookmovietvworm]

One of the things I liked about this new Percy Jackson episode is that they made the choices the kids make intentional

Instead of just going to the Arch to kill time, now they go because it is a temple for Athena, who Annabeth believes will help them.

Instead of the trio being separated because there wasn't enough room on the pod, Percy deliberately chooses to get Grover and Annabeth to safety and face Echidna alone.

It gives them a lot more agency in their actions and makes the Echidna fight carry more weight.

[afterthelambs]

In another (happier) world, I think Muhen would've been Akechi's Sojiro. Akechi would've lived above Jazz Jin just like how Joker lived above Leblanc. Muhen would've taught him how to make the drinks and close up at night. They would've bonded over music. And Akechi would finally have an adult looking after him. Because Muhen does care about him in-canon. He's the only character in the epilogue that mentions Akechi, he notices who Akechi spends time with, and he wishes to see him again.

It's so sad that Akechi assumes nobody cares about him or wants him around and yet this random jazz club owner does. Do you ever think about Muhen seeing Akechi at the Jazz Jin sometime in December, not knowing it would be the last time he ever would

[sir-heichou-smith]

Hear me out...

141 getting back from deployment and you pick them up in Price's old pickup.

You pull up to personnel quarters, barely putting her in park before leaping out of the vehicle. The boys are waiting outside with a small ruck each, covered in bruises and bandages from their latest op.

Johnny gets to you first. Picking you up and spinning you around, smiling and laughing and full of grateful kisses. "Missed you so much bonnie," he says with a cheese grin.

You turn your head to look at Gaz and Price, pulling out of the Scot's squeeze to embrace the other two men. You feel a pair of eyes on you as your shirt rides up while in their arms.

Simon had taken the bags and stuffed them into the bed before waiting patiently (as a lethal sniper does) for his turn to get his hands on you.

Except, he takes one look at Price and the older man already knows what's about to take place in the back of his truck. He sneaks the keys from your grip, too distracted by your other boys to notice.

Except you very much notice when you're hauled into the small rear seats. Simon and Johnny crawling in after you. Price takes up the driver seat and Kyle sits to his right in the passenger.

It's a tight squeeze with the two massive men on either side of you. Simon remedies that by having you straddling his lap, speared on his thick cock; Johnny already has his fatigues loose around his hips, palming himself through his briefs.

"S'alright birdie, we're here now. Gonna take such good care a ya." Scarred hands grip your bare ass and squeeze hard enough to leave red marks and nail indents.

Johnny takes your right hand and places it on his crotch, rutting up into your touch like a desperate horn dog. "Cannae wait to get ya home, lass. Gonna make ye feel so good."

He takes you by the back of the neck, a bit of hair in his grip, and gently leans you back so your shoulders rest on their legs pressed together beneath you, and your head sits perched on the console in the middle of the two men up front. Price throws his arm around your face, elbow securing your head so it doesn't move. The smell of sweat and deodorant and something that's just Price fills your nose, and makes you clench your cunt harder around Ghost's cock.

As your back is forced into a deep arch, you do your best to bounce on the veiny cock stuffing your tight little cunt, but between Johnny's fingers rubbing light circles on your clit, the smell of Price and his sweat, and Simon jamming into that gooey spot inside do you in quick.

You swear you throw your back out with how hard you come, seeing stars and biting into the meaty arm caging your head in.

Johnny's the first to follow after you, groaning desperately with a skeleton clad hand wrapped around his throbbing length, and then it's Simon, not bothering to pull out so you get flooded with his hot, creamy seed.

Price lets up on his arm wrapped around you, and instantly you're pulled forward into strong arms. You couldn't really tell whose hands belonged to who, deep voices cooing into your ears and lips kissing all over your neck and face and shoulders.

"Don't think we're finished with you yet, dove. Once we get home, you're not leaving that bed til we say so." Price's voice comes from up front, strained and a bit breathless if Kyle's hand reaching over into his pants says anything at all.

Oh yeah. You're in for a long, strenuous, very much so worth it reunion. The massages and kisses and warm tea after will make up for it, you're sure.

[skrs-cats]

set after leafpool dies, before the bonus scene w jayfeather dealing w that grief gets resolved. guess who was bitter over a certain cardboard character bitch not being included in that

Next

[madamemiz]

sad: falling out of a hyperfixation

tragic: watching your beloved friends and mutuals fall out of the hyperfixation while you're still in it