#and that shitty individual women can exist

[rad-claid-plaid]

how do i support other women despise other women hurting me and each others? women hate women, my mother choose dick over her daughter, girls at school bully me and men think they better than women and women help men hurting women. i don't know how to trust other women.

I understand, anon. I've had a lot of women and girls throughout my life hurt me, too. It's especially damaging when other women hurt you on behalf of men. Peers, friends, mentors, relatives, doctors, strangers. You might think, "I thought we were on the same side?" Especially when they're ones who are supposed to protect you, like mothers or sisters or friends. And it's so hard to wrap your head around (at least in my experience)

I think that realizing that having a goal of liberation of ALL women, not just the feminist ones or the supportive ones, was very important for me. It includes women who don't like you, it includes women you might hate. A lot of women support and enforce patriarchal ideas on other women, consciously or unconsciously, both as a way to try to prop themselves up in the eyes of men, and also "keeping them in line". Whether they acknowledge it or not, many tenets of radical feminism are threatening to the status quo, and therefore the regular lives of everyday women (and of course every man and the power they hold). Think about how much they defend shaving and makeup and heels, tooth and nail. If we collectively raised consciousness of women everywhere about these patriarchal standards, what's next? Turning on her husband, her father, her boss? It crumbles the facade. And with that, the women who are surrounded by men face immense backlash because even an ounce of feminism in a woman they have wrapped around their fingers is dangerous to them. And so, often without realizing it, women will enforce the same standards they themselves are held to. They're not responsible for the standards or the main source of enforcement, men are, but they still have a hand in it.

I think when women tear each other down in relation to men, if a woman tears you down with the shadow of patriarchy puppeting her hands, she might not see it or realize the core implications of her actions. Sure, in her mind she might just be mean to some random girl. It might bring her up a rung on the ladder in the eyes of an individual man or two, but in the grand scheme she's just making less work for the men to do in their enforcement. This is the sort of patriarchy fueled hate, where men need women to turn on each other to keep them distracted from the real problem.

I know I'm speaking about this very broadly. I have a lot of jumbled thoughts on this.

I think that another thing to keep in mind is that women are individual people too. Some people just fucking suck. Some people are bullies, they're hateful, they're neglectful, they're mean, they're spiteful, they're cruel, whatever the case. This includes women. Some women are just, well, shitty. They're included in my goal of liberation from misogyny, but that doesn't mean I like them personally.

I wish I could trust every woman, I wish that we could have common goals in regards to patriarchal standards and crushing them. But unfortunately, as half of the population, there are all kinds of people from all walks of life, and some of them are shitty to you. I try to be open but not naively trusting them right off the bat. Guarded, but still trying to find common ground, and give her a chance. I extend a branch, so to speak, and have no expectations of them accepting it or not. I also try not to walk into every situation with false expectations that just because they're women, they'll have kindness and consideration for me. I meet a lot of people that are rude and immediately hostile to me because of my appearance, or my nonconformity to femininity, or my awkwardness. It fucking sucks, honestly. But there are also tons and tons of deeply kind, caring, supportive women. Tons of neutral women. Dividing them into categories isn't helping any of us. We all have common ground in being women.

I do want to argue your statement that "women hate women". I don't think that's necessarily true. I think women are socialized to be suspicious or competitive with other women, specifically to keep them in line. When large groups of women come together and find commonalities, not even getting to the next step of starting to dismantle oppression, that's dangerous to men. They talk. They realize that other women are just like them. That they have been tearing each other down for no goddamn reason. Women are turned against each other to keep them from realizing who's riling them up and setting them at other women.

Another thing to consider is patriarchal sub-structures within the larger framework of misogyny. Things like patriarchal religion. If you are raised within these structures, your entire world is built with these concepts. The women within these frameworks generally believe they're doing what's "best" for their peers or their daughters, but in reality it's hurting them even further.

With being jaded about being hurt in the past, you have to be careful not to let misogyny cloud your vision. It's been loaded and installed into all of our hard drives, even as feminists. It might be easy to say, oh, a bunch of girls from x group were horrible to me, all x girls are mean and vapid. That's where you really need to dig down. Put up the metaphorical stop sign in your brain. WAIT! Not all women in X or Y group are of a characteristic. That's the little misogyny worms in effect. They want you to hate a whole group of women, and turn against them, boiling them down to whatever negative characteristic that has been assigned to them. It doesn't benefit anyone except men to negatively stereotype these women.

I'm not quite sure what my grand point is here. This is a complex set of feelings to navigate. Unfortunately, women all over have internalized misogynistic standards and unfairly hurt other women on behalf of men. And sometimes women are just shitty in general. And so I can see how you would feel jaded about support for all women. I think you can blame those women for the hurt they've caused you, the pain and trauma of those who should be lifting you up instead of tearing you down. And I think you can also acknowledge that women's liberation includes ALL women, even ones who are shitty or have hurt you, because it ultimately benefits every women and makes the world a safer place for us. That there ARE wonderful women out there who care about you and women as a whole.

Keep your eye on the ball and never stop trying to connect to other women and build a community or support web, for your sake and others'.

This is a long post, but I'd love to hear thoughts on this from other radblr women, especially those with more experience building community with others in real life.

[bansurii]

Sukuna • Reader | HC | just an idea of how Sukuna would be as a boyfriend humane and inhumane | dead dove but please proceed…

____________________________________________

Inhumane {or OG Sukuna}

- to start, sukuna as his original self both before and after heightened cursed ability and fully realized self, is neither interested nor even cares about relationships. he would kill you without a second thought.

-but for the delulu’s like moi who don’t care for that fact… well, let’s proceed, shall we?

-if sukuna by some amazing miracle decided to waste his time on a puny human with a deeper pussy than mariana’s trench, then he probably wouldn’t care much for the type depending on some things like, do we all agree that he would prefer a stronger woman who doesn’t need to rely on him for reassurance or guidance for basic tasks? Sure. We can also agree he would not prefer a little girl in the form of a twenty-something and we can definitely rule out women that would make attempts to boss him around.

-uraume is the key here in my opinion. This one seems to know well how to work around sukuna and also how to think for him when he is too focused on playing or whatever else keeps him occupied. definitely would agree that sukuna would prefer a quiet yet strong and occasionally outspoken individual with a dark sense of humor.

-would even go so far as to say “dead b- jokes” probably would be of interest in the dark matter that is his mind

-being anything of value to Sukuna is not a walk in the park. It is not a harsh party with the ol’ toxic family or shitty friends who try to get you intoxicated and push you off a cliff, although you’re more likely to have better luck in those situations than calling Sukuna anything other than his name.

-back to it!

-Sukuna is not for the weak! Should he choose you to date him, it’s either bc he thinks you’re fun to torment or because he sees some sort of power in you that he’s all for testing out later in more ways than one

-should he date you or call you anything other than “brat” and “fool” and how much your existence is a waste of space, please know he will never not do that and expect it in the bedroom!

-maybe he’ll torture you, make you think he’s gonna go down on you but actually eats the 🐱 and then heals you slow but sure and does it again after a while

-maybe he will take you hunting and pretend you’re looking for a wild boar and while you are actually hunting, he’s got his bow arm trained on you and you better not look at him… he will shoot without hesitation

-oh and don’t forget to never run from him under any circumstances. he’s not always in the mood for hunting and honestly he gets bored so easily so if you run it won’t make it fun. he will kill you. And no amount of praying and sacrifices to great king will bring you back. count your blessings

-should he decide to actually lay with you, likelihood of you living to tell the story does depend on sukuna and his emotions. one minute he might want you facing him, the next you better have the deepest curve the finest bow in history and the future would be proud of. should he allow you to live beyond the sexy time he willingly allowed you to live through, don’t run and tell your friends or the nearest spirit that cannot speak and don’t even think about it. Just bow down as deep as you can until he leaves the room or goes to sleep. But you better stay that way until the morning if you truly want to live. he better not find you asleep in that position either…

-without all the sex, he actually would be a great boyfriend or husband as far as protection goes. Words alone will keep you out of harms way. However, idiots still exist and some have to test this theory that the king of curses is as massive and horrific as they say…

-so should a couple of thieves or dumb teens decide to test their luck with you, they better hope sukuna is out of the country. Or out of this world.

-sukuna may not value you the way a more humane individual would, but whatever is his remains his to do with what he likes. and he does not play well with others. And he hates! when those others play with his toys.

-no, those teens were never heard of again. Nothing left to bury. Nothing left to even show they ever existed. Let alone their ancestral homes or families. the nearest villages and places of origin never even knew they were living there.

-best believe if sukuna goes so far as to claim you, he will barely let you leave his shrine or whatever glorified hole he crawls out of. because what do you need to leave for? do you not have everything you need right here? does sukuna not provide for you what no one else could pay millions or even billions to provide for you? are you unsatisfied with his dedication to you? Are you unhappy? Why do you need to leave? The sharp nails at your throat are just for play… he actually is curious deep down. But you will never know.

-all in all, inhumane/OG kuna is… a tough one. irritable but patient… mostly. take your time working your way around this one. he certainly does not play fair. And why should? He is the king of curses after all. you’re gonna be fine. I hope.

Humane Sukuna / Kuna/ Yuji’s cold older brother/ the man we all have the hots for

-cold, distant, aloof, probably truly feels nothing… at least until he sees you. Yuji’s friend, or not. Somehow he sees you around and he’s interested whether you are a gloomy girl that sighs a lot or a smiley girl who’s never had a pinker aura! Or anyone in-between… either way you make him glitch.

-he never glitches. He is the matrix. Fuck you.

-this.

-him.

-you.

-yuji is frazzled (but when isn’t he?) and megumi is actually sobbing for you. And nobara literally never cries so count her sobbing in a far off corner while sukuna approaches you and tells you to meet him for lunch here at this time and if you’re not there… well you better be there.

-if you do not associate with the triplex, you can assure yourself that sukuna finds that even more attractive whether you have friends or not, you do not associate yourself with fools, boneheaded freaks, and the creepy blue eyes they call sensei even though he teaches them next to nothing and just shows off his eyes every five seconds

-did i mention this might not include sorcery?

-should it though, you probably are weak until proven strong because who is sukuna if not the master of knowledge and whisperers?

-either way, sukuna has you glued to him within weeks. And yea, that is a grace period because while he is patient, he cannot leave an opening and risk someone stealing his marked one and leave him the scraps. No. He will take it all.

-oh god you’re a virgin??? Please for your sake keep that to yourself until it super matters. He is a VK through and through. This man is in love with the untouched and the untouchable.

-should you tell him in the very beginning that you are, he will turn everything as sexual as possible when it calls for it just to fluster you and get off on your reactions whether you know the meaning or not

-should you tell him right before the time comes, less embarrassing here than before but he will tease you numb and then somehow bring all the sensation back ten fold and will edge you like crazy until he wants to taste what he’s been forcing you to save for him

-and even if you’re not a virgin, here’s to that pretty 🐱 turning into his pretty 🐱 and never to be had by another and even if it is had by another it will never forget him just as you would never forget him. maybe he’ll edge you and tease you but it’s different when it’s your first time.

-no worries. He does not discriminate against the have and have-not.

-should you decide to allow him to court you (not that you had a choice here anyway) he would actually take you out on cute dates. Never picnics. But cute dates and feed you with his long fingers that get in your mouth real deep…

-don’t worry, he won’t make it super embarrassing for you next time.

-sukuna is into shibari.

-expect to be tied up as his personal art piece, when he wants to get super “knotty” and maybe if he just wants to watch you “hang” around. perhaps he wants to feed you more than food when you’re dangling from the ceiling…

-should sukuna date you humanely, he will manipulate you here and there and have his mental and emotional intelligence overstand yours and use that his advantage and watch your pretty little bottom lip wobble as he forces you into mental submission to him

-he isn’t as humane as you assumed he would be? Oh honey! You’re just getting started.

-you thought Aizen was manipulative? You think Michael Jackson from Demon Slayer holds a candle to Sukuna?? Aw honey!

-he may not raise a hand to you but his words almost make you prefer it… however he rubs the wounds away with kisses and cuddles you to sleep only for you to wake up to a cold bed in the morning. Not all happy endings remain happy.

-should sukuna delight you with his time, expect it to be limited unless you have made it so far as to live together and do not expect it to be domesticated. he is distant and cold even if he has warmed up to you. he only provides less harsh words and more comfortable silence

-he is not mad. He is not bothered. He is not angry. He is not annoyed. He is okay. He just has nothing to say.

-but do not push him either.

-quick-tempered at times. but only if you ate his food or spilled something on his favorite pants or shoes. He barely wears shirts so it doesn’t matter.

-he does buy you nice things. Maybe a new car. A pretty necklace with a tracker in it just to be sure you are the getting yourself into trouble or trying to leave him.

-he is THE ORIGINAL Christian Grey. Please know shibari is not his limit on the knowledge of bdsm and the art of sex of any level. It is a deal breaker for him if you cannot meet him somewhere in the middle for bdsm. It is a part of his life. If he is not serious about you, he lets it go as easy as he lets you go. He doesn’t like to waste his time so why would he waste yours? Unless he is bored.

-uraume is his friend. Nothing more. Ignore.

-unless he wants uraume to watch you squirm as he plows through you in those sexy red ropes that match the red in his eyes and the pretty lines that adorn your chest, breast, thighs and shoulders and the bite marks he left all over your pretty body.

-if you want, uraume can join though…

-sukuna would be similar here to inhumane sukuna when it comes to protectiveness and only if you are to get past certain milestones with him. he would disappear someone just for looking at you wrong. Maybe not that extreme but if it calls for it, don’t expect news about them in the coning days. Not a magazine editorial could publish anything about them. They simply no longer exist. The government cannot even say who that person was. Sukuna knows what he is doing. Trust him.

-you will never meet his family unless you consider Yuji his brother. Yuji will love you either way but doubt your relationship every second of the way. Still supportive though. Sukuna seems happy which is startling to him but you don’t look like you’re searching for the door… however. if you are… BLINK TWICE!

-overall, sukuna isn’t that much different than OG Sukuna but he has his key differences and things he would prefer that are more humane. Survival rate here: depends on how smart you are. Or dumb. Average: 47%

[tommyssupercoolblog]

How to spot TERFs (and radical feminists in general):

IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT MISGENDERING AND TRANSPHOBIA. SPOT IT FROM THE ROOT!!!

A TERF or TIRF-

Believes men are inherently both strong/powerful and cruel (either from birth (TERF) or transition (TIRF))

Believes women are inherently weaker and more fragile than men physically (either from birth (TERF) or transition (TIRF)

Believes men are inherently sexual aggressors who have high sex drives and can't control themselves, and that this is why rape happens. (either from birth (TERF) or transition (TIRF)

Is anti-sex work

Is against co-ed sports, and usually other co-ed spaces as well (either by sex (TERF) or gender (TIRF))

Believes that men cannot be feminists or genuinely care for women in a non-sexual way (either by birth (TERF) or transition (TIRF) because of beliefs one and two

Generally treats men and women like they are different species

Is either actively hostile and exclusionary towards intersex people or "politely ignores" them, because it is central to their worldview that everyone is either an oppressed woman or oppressive man.

TERFS specifically will also:

Believe that transmasc people are either traitors or self hating women

Believe that transfemme people are predators

Believe that nonbinary people don't exist

Usually be against cross dressing and drag, as well as champion the idea of traditional gender presentation.

TIRFS will:

Usually add on some qualifier about identity to loosely include trans people

End up aligning nonbinary people either with women or according to their sex anyway to remain in the "inherently oppressive vs inherently oppressed" worldview

Still be aggressive towards transmasc people, although now it's because they count as men now and men are evil

Sometimes be less hostile to gender nonconformity, sometimes not. It depends on the individual.

This is because Radical Feminism ISN'T about trans people. Trans people are only a group it hurts. Radical Feminism is about the idea that men and women are inherently different, and men are inherently dangerous to women. That is WHY TERFS are transphobic!!! And even in cases of Trans-Inclusionary-Radical-Femenists, they believe the same ideas, just for gender identity; they believe that trans men are inherently different from and dangerous to women, and that trans women are inherently different from and in danger because of men.

Radical Feminism is the idea that the patriarchy and sexism is baked in, unavoidable like the laws of gravity, and that feminists can only reduce damage. It is, ironically, incredibly anti-femenist. To the radical feminist, there is no such thing as an equal future- gender equality is unachievable. The best future a radical feminist can imagine is a sexist, patriarchal world, but with some women-only safe zones to flee to. Or, alternatively, genocide. Either way, shitty.

[velvetvexations]

I think we need to like place the term socialization on a high shelf until people will learn what it means properly. Like it's just a term to indicate social messages and influences people receive due to traits and perceptions about them and where and how they grow up. There is no one "male socialization" and socialization isn't even something that Is it's something that one Experiences. Like I wouldn't say that I was "socialized female" unless I had to really really dumb down a concept (especially cause due to being fat, possibly noticably queer, having parents very different from my peers, and most importantly to my own interpretation of my life, a "Weird Kid" growing up, I experienced a set of social forces very different from most of my peers, even those who shared my gender-as-assumed-by-adults. Almost as if the concept of socialization is very complex and intersectional 🤔) but I would say I was influenced growing up by the assumption by those around me that because of my body I Should act a certain, gendered way, which has influenced me, but also in some ways that are contradictory to expectations of some mythical "female socialization" that only exists on the broadest scale imaginable.

Socialization is incredibly intersectional and context dependant and is a process that people experience rather than a determined set of traits about a person. A trans woman might have experienced a so called "male socialization" in that people assumed she was a boy and pressured her to act a certain way and develop certain perspectives, but it's just that: a pressure; It has no guaranteed influence on her in any way. Most discourse (terfs misusing sociological terms to be transphobic, and then people attempting to push back against that while still misguidedly arguing within that exact same framework (often ending up transradfemmy(eg. Trans women were socialized female cause every single young trans girl knew things about women were about them and the opposite is true for trans men(disregard nonbinary people entirely) and all trans women are the same in this)) flattens the idea of socialization into this binary all consuming force that affects every person of x identity the exact same and has no nuance ever and everyone will act as if you're attempting to set them on fire for daring to say that there's nuance to the concept and people can have their own interpretations about their experiences with gendered society

I've seen trans women say they feel they experienced male socialization and those that don't feel that. I've seen trans women talk about how their experiences were shaped by attempts to force them into Proper Gender Based On Body Parts (that all people, cis or trans, experience) directly conflicted with their internal sense of self which impacted how they view themselves and their genders. I'm not going to argue with them about their own experiences of gender and society!? Its shitty to act as if it's a net good to try and force people's lived experiences into the box of Correct Theory just to make a point.

Tldr: it bugs me when people use socialization in the most ass backwards ways to try and prove a point when they clearly don't understand what the term is meant to convey: it's a set of social forces that individuals experience on an individual scale. Not a one size defines a person's entire personality prescriptive label that is unchanging throughout life. People just hate nuance

Socialization is always diagnosed in others rather than based in self-reporting about one's experiences. If someone says "I was pressured to be my assigned gender and that affected me in this way" that's obviously a normal trans experience, but socialization as a term exists to explain the way people are, to take a pattern of behavior and say "this is why that person behaves that way". There's no great way to spin that.

[limeade-l3sbian]

It’s really stifling how some radfems act like it’s a sin to hate individual women. I don’t think anyone can be a radical feminist if they hate women as a whole. But hating A woman? Why is that now not allowed? another thing I find highly offensive is that not every wrong a woman commits towards another woman deserves empathy. I’m tired of seeing “radfems” play the devils advocate if another woman is ranting about being fucked over badly by someone. I get that there are some things that are explicitly explained by socialization expected of women but there’s also just women who are shitty people users that would literally push you into upcoming traffic if it made their walk towards the grocery store quicker, if you get what I mean. I’m not saying this is things you say or believe!! I just wanted to rant. Dunno if you ever also feel kinda stifled by how much sometimes forced positivity you could call it exists within the radfem space.

No, you're good and I agree. And I think this definitely applies to gyns like Taylor Swift. Like, babes, I hate celebrities in general. It ain't a gender thing. She makes shit music and is annoying. "But what about male celebrities-?" I hate CELEBRITIES. For every female celebrity I hate, I can give you five male ones that I hate.

I don't think she deserves to have deepfake porn made of her. She deserves all the rights. But I hate her. Her voice annoys me and her lyrics are boring.

[marley-manson]

Out of curiosity, how would you describe ways people are misogynistic about female characters they like? I can probably guess, ("she's a perfect angel", "she's two dimensional now because everything she does is excusable", "she's the mother", etc.) but I would like to hear your take on it

Yeah that's definitely one of the categories of commentary I was thinking of. Reducing her down to a badass lady with the sole braincell, ignoring flaws and complexities and completely smoothing out her personality, mom friend lol, you nailed that. Also the classic awesome lady and her silly boys style threesome stuff, or the canon love interest in m/m who is totally understanding and supportive and steps aside or welcomes an open relationship happily. It's super annoying and tbqh I'd by far rather see people completely ignore a fictional woman's existence than frame her like that. Honestly, I'd rather see genuine character bashing of a love interest lol, because at least in those fics she usually has a personality, and sometimes even gets to do interesting things.

On the het fan side of things I'd also include a loooooooot of the ways people write and talk about het romance. I see a lot of female character fans, usually the kind who are resentful of m/m and call gay shippers misogynist a lot, who act like their favourite fictional woman can only attain personal fulfillment if she gets together with the dude they ship her with and see anyone who doesn't ship her with a dude (often including f/f fans) as like, maliciously depriving her of happiness lol.

But also all those little heteronormative things that add up - the woman is 'spunky' or 'sassy' (because the man has the power), she falls very neatly into the small weak feminine category to contrast with the manly dude with rough calloused hands (no matter how effeminate the dude actually is lol), she's nurturing and comforting and reads the dude's mind to provide him exactly what he needs and is tolerant and indulgent of his shittiness, her good looks are pointed out a lot, she's a great mom no matter what her canon personality is, etc etc.

And then there's the ship wars lol. Being a fan of a fictional woman absolutely does not mean you love all fictional women, and a lot of the absolute nastiest most misogynist statements I've seen in fandom have come from rival hetshippers wanking. You want to see a woman called a screeching harpy or a fugly slut or a manipulative whore or whatever else lol dive into a fandom with rival het ship wars. My favourite woman is practically perfect in every way and deserves the dude, your favourite woman is a wanton hussy.

This also holds true for the very few f/f fandoms that have rival f/f ships ime. Even Xena fandom regularly had plenty of misogynist things to say about any woman who makes eyes at Gabrielle who isn't Xena lol.

Also I would argue that wider f/f fandom's really fucking annoying compulsion to smooth away all relationship and character flaws and write two perfect women braiding each others' hair and maybe delicately finger-fucking at best in fear of problematic dynamics and kinks is also misogynist at its core, at least as an inescapable trend if not on an individual basis. Though, on that individual basis, the rhetoric around policing problematic f/f is absolutely misogynist (and homophobic). Good women don't get off on power and abuse, we can only like totally egalitarian sex, you're probably a predator if you're into dark fiction, that kind of shit.

And of course that also goes for the rhetoric around fic in general and how much misogyny is aimed at women writing kinky shit or m/m etc, but that's a bit of a digression since it's aimed at real women rather than fictional characters, so I'll stop there.

Thanks for asking and giving me a chance to complain more lol <3

[queerism1969]

Medical stuff I wish cisgender people knew

Medical transition does not make someone a man or a woman. A trans woman is a woman, and a trans man is a man, regardless of what medical treatment they have or have not had. Medical treatment just makes life a hell of a lot easier for a lot of people

It is not true that 40% of trans people commit suicide. The infamous 40% statistic refers specifically to rates of suicide attempts which occur before transition. Most of these attempts fail and the person survives.

Transition vastly reduces risk of suicide attempts from 40% down to around the national average, while dramatically improving mental health, social functionality, and quality of life for those who need it.

Being trans is not classified as a mental illness by either the American Psychological Association or the World Health Organization. Gender dysphoria (in the DSM) or incongruence (in the ICD) is recognized by both as a medical condition, and transition is the only treatment recognized as effective and appropriate medical response to this condition

When able to transition young, with access to appropriate medical care, and spared abuse and discrimination, trans people are as psychologically healthy as the general public

Transition-related medical treatment is not new or experimental; it has existed for over a century

Transition-related medical care is recognized as necessary, frequently life saving medical treatment by every major US and world medical authority

Transition is the only treatment for dysphoria that has proven to be effective. Attempts to "cure" trans people, alleviating dysphoria by changing the patient victims' gender identity to match their appearance at birth (aka "conversion therapy" or "gender identity change efforts"), are such utterly worthless and actively destructive train wrecks that this "therapy" is condemned as pseudo-scientific abuse by all major medical authorities

Transition is a very individual process; not everyone needs or wants the same things

"Regret" rates among trans surgical patients are vanishingly rare, consistently found to be about 1% and falling. This 1% includes people who are very happy they transitioned, and often are still glad they got reconstructive surgery, but regret only that medical error or shitty luck led to sub-optimal surgical results. That's a risk in any medical treatment, and a success rate of about 99% is astonishingly good. And only about 6% of trans people have had reconstructive surgery, so rates of surgical regret among trans people as a whole are about 0.06%.

Transition "regret" is vanishingly rare. Of everyone who starts even the preliminary steps of transition, like trying a new name or pronouns socially, only about 0.4% eventually realize it is not right for them (see p108-111). Most realize this soon after starting transition, when physical changes are minimal or nonexistent. Many do not regret exploring transition as an option, even if ultimately it wasn't what they needed.

Hormone therapy is pretty cheap, is generally the first line of treatment most trans people get, and dramatically impacts one's appearance

Most trans people socially transition long before they get reconstructive genital surgery, if they ever get it at all. Not everyone needs or wants surgery, and even those who do need it are often unable to afford it. Genital surgery for trans women costs tens of thousands of dollars out of pocket. Surgery for trans men can cost between tens of thousands to over $100k, depending on the procedure one is getting.

25 US states currently have laws prohibiting health insurance companies from having "trans exclusion" policies, where they categorically refuse to cover medically necessary transition-related treatment. This means that a small but growing number of people are able to get treatment, including surgery, covered by insurance

When a child or adolescent transitions that does not mean they are being rushed into irreversible surgery

Transition for predolescent children is 100% social; changing hair, clothes, name, pronouns, and/or the gender they are recognized as by their family and community. No medical treatment is necessary or provided before the start of puberty

The first line of medical care for trans adolescence is puberty-delaying treatment. It is gentle, fully reversible, and has been used for decades to delay puberty in kids who would otherwise have started it too young. It does nothing but buy time, and has no long term effects

Transition-related hormone supplements do not cause serious long term health problems

Reconstructive genital surgery for both trans women and trans men can provide excellent results

[yakityyaku]

I think two things we have to contend with that a lot of the left/democrats aren't ready to are one, white/cis/whatever fear, and their hurt feelings.

It is absurd when you stand back and see dominant majorities fearing "replacement." That's not how it works, nor how it should work.

But when you've told them that their entire life experience is based on having more privilege than others, it is reasonable to worry that others moving up the ladder means you'll be pushed off. Especially if your privileged life hasn't been good or easy.

Is it an irrational fear? Is it not what minorities are asking for? Of course. But it is still a fear. An intense one.

We tell men to shut up and stay out of women's issues. White people can't express anxiety at being picked last because other races are being lifted up. We offer no space for them. It's just get with the program or fuck off.

That does not work.

I know some will jump to the conclusion that I'm saying we "coddle our oppressors" or whatever. I'm not. But we can't ignore it anymore. We can't pretend you can bypass the hurt feelings and confusion and fear. Because all that does is push them away.

I get it. You shouldn't need convincing that all people should be equal. But it's not as straightforward as that.

It's not a matter of convincing anyone that equality is necessary, but that it is actually equality being sought, and that equal opportunity will come with equal availability ("if I don't have this edge I didn't realize I had, does that mean more competition for jobs? For resources?")

Their fears have to be quelled. Not ignored. Not berated.

And that applies to other things, such as men and their problems surrounding misogyny as well. If women can do everything a man can, will they not need them anymore? Not want them? Every answer to every question can not be shut up.

We are loaing our grip on progress because we can't bring ourselves to offer humanity to the people we ask for it from. If you work through the fears, through the doubts and the apprehension, you can get to a place of understanding.

The knee-jerk disgust of someone not being able to look past all their feelings and insecurities for what is morally right isn't helpful. It's isolating for people we need to be on our side, and shitty people who want to hurt us will swoop in and be there for them.

There are vile people who are just racist or exist or homophobic or transphobic or whatever else. But a lot of them are also just scared and lonely and being baited in by someone who hears them out and acknowledges their concerns.

It is not fun. It is not easy. It is not every individuals job to be that guy who listens and tries to be level headed and sympathetic. Your gut feelings to the rooted fears that spread oppression are just as understandable and strong.

However, we are seeing that the more you push away, the more you say you'll do it yourself and leave whoever doesn't fall in line in the dust, that someone will be following behind to collect those people. And eventually? They will outweigh who you've got left.

We don't need to do it alone. We don't need to shun the non-believers. We need to bring the rest of humanity forward, not leave half walking backwards to find someone who sees them.

Everyone continues to lose because we can't see each other as people. There's almost no true excuse for that. And it's only going to make things worse.

[thatdebaterguy]

Your abortion opinion is dogshit. “Just have safe sex. No child is unwanted” tell me you’re middle class and sheltered and you’ve never done any research without telling me. Childbirth, if you’ve never had any experience with it, is an extremely long, painful, traumatic, and dangerous experience. If a pregnant individual at any point decides they do not want to experience this, they should be allowed to terminate the pregnancy. Are you really going to make a full grown thinking feeling ADULT unwillingly go through +12 hours of agony and potentially a fucking massive surgery while conscious (if you don’t know what a c section is) to prevent the termination of a fucking fetus that doesn’t even know it’s alive and has no capacity to suffer?

“No child is unwanted” you fucking idiot. Is your idea of the worldwide foster system limited to Annie the Musical? Not everyone has a loving family who can accept the child. Foster systems are rife with abuse. Almost nobody who ages out of the foster system has had a good childhood. And that’s only talking about places like North America and Europe. What about places with no nationwide foster system? Do you know about post partum depression?? Do you know about the research done about the mothers that just straight up do not love their babies or their children and regret not aborting them?

Look at me anon. I don’t care if it’s physically impossible for you, thought experiment here, would YOU undergo 9 months of pregnancy symptoms (weak bladder, swollen ankles, morning sickness, baby kicking, etc) and then go through hours of agony followed by a multi-hour cesarean section surgery for which you are conscious. Just to have a baby. Starting right now. I don’t care if you don’t want it I don’t care if you don’t have the money. Right now. “No child is unwanted,” right? Also the baby you have has a 100% chance of being sexually assaulted within the foster care system and becoming a drug addict who dies of an overdose at a young age. Still doing it?

What exactly are you trying to prove? My mother was well into her 40s when I was conceived, I was premature by about 2 weeks, and I was a c-section. She happily reminds me of the pain she went through just to make me exist, but isn't that the miracle of life, of birth, of families? Millions and millions of women go through such hardship and turmoil, 9 months of their lives, to bring life into this world, and will quite frequently then do it AGAIN, and will cherish their children graciously with no regrets. Not everyone has a good family, a good relationship with their mother, not everyone even knows their mother, but they get to experience life, to experience the world, no matter how shitty it gets, they always have a chance at pulling through, reaching happiness, having their own family. Of course it's not as simple as 'just have safe sex' but you see so many abortions are due to those not ready for motherhood yet failing to have protective sex. Personally, I believe if you're willing to have sex, you should be mindful of the consequences, and being horny and immature isn't a plausible excuse for terminating a life. Since my first formulation of an opinion on abortion, I've given it time to think, and have come to somewhat of an idea. Life truly begins once the heartbeat begins within a human child, and conscious existence begins around 25 weeks. The cut-off for abortion should be 25 weeks at latest, as that's when consciousness begins. However, at the development of the heart would also be ideal or acceptable in my eyes.

But of course every family isn't perfect, of course many people don't have a family, I grew up with an absent father who was more invested in booze than my life, I know many people who grew up in foster homes, and sure yes of course it's better to have a supportive family, but growing up adopted or in a foster home doesn't make your chances of a happy life impossible. And every child is wanted. By someone, somewhere. In America alone, there are 2 million couples on the adoption waiting list. Those are 2 million couples who'd greet any child with open loving arms, who'd try their best for that child. Being unwanted by your biological parents is a painful fact that could haunt you for life, but it doesn't negate from the value of life and the countless amazing experiences it has to offer. It just poses a greater challenge for you to overcome, and the greater the risk, the greater the reward. Knowing you've overcome being unwanted by your own family by building your own loving family is genuinely one of the greatest achievements in life, and if you've taken lessons from your parents to better your own parenting skills, to learn from their mistakes, to give someone a father when you didn't have one, then shoutout to you. Shoutout to mothers, to my mother, to single fathers, to loving parents, to orphans, and to those enduring through the hardships of life. We're all proud of you.

[utilitycaster]

24 & 25 for the ask game

24. most rancid discourse - I'm going to the wider AP/TTRPG fandom again because I think most Critical Role dumb discourse things have either a clear eventual end date, or are limited to small subgroups. Anyway, I just said this last week but I'll say it again: it's fine if you don't like D&D, whether your issue is with the gameplay itself or with WOTC/Hasbro's practices. I happen to like D&D as a game and I haven't spent a dime on anything put out by WoTC/Hasbro in over two years, because I already own what I need, and I don't feel bad about pirating other stuff, so boycotting it on a personal level doesn't do shit. The overwhelming attitude from people who want actual play shows to change systems because they "have an obligation to the fans" or people who get shitty on posts about D&D is not "hey, I want to help you find other games that you might enjoy other than D&D;" it's "I HATE D&D AND I'M GOING TO BE A LOUD STUPID DICK ABOUT IT." Like, at this point I personally will not play PF or Fabula Ultima unless a personal IRL friend invites me because every single person plugging those online has been so fucking unpleasant that I don't wish to spend any time in their community. I loved TAZ Steeplechase, which used Blades in the Dark, but I'm actually not super interested in playing out that kind of story at my tables; I want to play a fantasy game with level progression. I've had a good time with some indie solo games, and some Grant Howitt one-pagers, and you know what a big factor for those was? I had a group of people around me who were interested (or I personally was interested) and someone was kind and positive and asked me what sort of game I was looking for instead of just being like PLAY MY FAVORITE GAME BECAUSE I'M RIGHT. And yeah, as a person who is totally ok with actual play shows sticking with D&D if it's what fits the story, a lot of people do repeatedly whine about D&D being the system of choice and then don't watch anything else. and unfortunately I do not see an end to this.

25. This is a complicated one but in CR I think it's both important to understand the context of a lot of fandom attitudes/complaints based on how the fandom was in the past; it's also crucial to understand that fandom is never monolithic, assuming everyone holds the position you like/dislike is false, and when you bring up that context it's vital to make sure it's still relevant. So to give a couple examples, it is an important truth in the history of CR fandom that people were particularly awful to the women, especially Marisha-as-Keyleth, during Campaign 1. It also gets treated as like, this obligatory litany you have to say before any criticism of any female character ever and it's like. I am a woman. My understanding of misogyny long pre-dates my watching of Critical Role. If you are not an extremely stupid person I think you can understand that me saying "Laudna frequently feels underdeveloped" is not me saying "Marisha Ray should be thrown off a bridge". We can similarly acknowledge that some critiques of Campaign 3 are in bad faith and also that there's a lot of valid reasons why many people strongly prefer Campaigns 1 and/or 2 without making up bullshit lies (the idea that people never criticized Liam for main character syndrome when that was a CONSTANT in C2 and, I am told, C1; the idea that there wasn't a lot of pushback towards Campaign 2 for not being Vox Machina Redux).

I guess the best way to put it is that I'm sick of people complaining that not everyone has the same preferences as they do and claiming that they (and the things they like) are the most put upon perfect angel whom the mean fandom hates. If Campaign 3 is your favorite, great. Enjoy. Glad you're enjoying it. If the existence of other people with valid arguments on why they don't like it is making it hard for you to enjoy something, that's either because you are spineless and stupid and lack a coherent individual viewpoint independent of the validation of others; or because their arguments are good and are pointing out things you hadn't previously noticed and don't want to admit. and this goes for any character, any campaign, and any show. You sound like the "potterheads get your wands" people.

[devilsskettle]

the thing is with arguments about certain things being unnecessary or gratuitous in art/media (sex, violence, anything potentially unseemly) is that..... well. what is necessary? maybe sex is unnecessary in a story about a relationship, but the story itself is also unnecessary. nobody had to write that. maybe it’s gratuitous to show gore graphically in a story involving violence, but you could also always just take out the violence (making it an entirely different story), or not tell the story at all. any step to sanitization could be taken further and further to the point of nonexistence - no story is actually necessary in that there is an inherent need for it to exist in the same way that people need food, water, shelter, air to breathe. but it’s still important to tell stories! and maybe an author wants to tell THAT story, which includes something “unnecessary” in order to further explore something about life. people have sex, people commit and experience violence, people age, people get sick, people use the restroom. you can take any of those things out of a story because it’s unnecessary for the plot but the plot itself is unnecessary, the author chose to write it and they chose to write it that way. “unnecessary” is an arbitrary criticism. if the author includes something that doesn’t serve the story, that’s a fair criticism of an individual piece of media. if they depict something in a way that has a harmful message, that’s also a valid criticism (i.e. criticisms of gratuitous sexual violence that are exploitative and/or sexist and/or reify the objectification of women and rape culture - you see how that’s a different criticism than taking a stance against gore in horror movies “just for shock value” when that might just kind of be the point, or in fact the plot itself, which you might not like and that’s fine but it’s not like those movies shouldn’t exist). like i’m not a “let people enjoy things” person as an excuse to support shitty media and shitty creators, but some things are just for shock value and entertainment and that’s okay sometimes like there can be nuance 

[maxknightley]

So if gender is a social construct and female beauty standards are oppressive, what does presenting female even mean? Sorry if this sounds in bad faith but I’m genuinely confused.

nah I getcha. this is going to sound a bit circular but my take on the subject basically consists of the following:

a social construct is defined primarily by the society that constructed it

that said, how one engages with a social construct as an individual is going to vary based on one's own philosophy and preferences, how they want others to see them, etc.

even if you think a social construct is dumb, that doesn't mean it holds no sway over your brain

so from that we can gather that there's sort of... different ways one can think of "presenting as female."

this is a bit reductive, but to provide an example, lets use "the wearing of skirts and pants" as a lens.

depending on the time and place, society might say "men wear pants and women wear skirts"; it might say "men wear pants exclusively (unless they're gay or something), women can wear skirts or pants (but if they only ever wear pants they're probably gay or something)"; it might say "only laborers wear pants, everyone else wears skirts"; or people in that society might not wear pants at all.

let's say you were assigned male at birth in a society where skirts are designated Exclusively For Women. there's several different ways you can engage with that.

wear skirts specifically so that people will understand you are presenting as a woman. (whether they're cool about this or decide to abuse you for it depends on the person, of course.)

avoid wearing skirts, at least in public, so that strangers won't think you're presenting as a woman.

reject the "skirts are for women" attitude altogether and wear skirts while still thinking of yourself as a man.

reject the "skirts are for women" attitude altogether; don't wear skirts, but still think of yourself as a woman.

reject the "skirts are for women" attitude, but present as a woman through other means. e.g., if your society associates long hair or makeup with womanhood, you might grow your hair out and wear makeup, but still avoid wearing skirts just because you don't like them.

deliberately cultivate an appearance deemed "androgynous" via opposed signifiers of gender - for example, wearing skirts but cutting your hair very short.

deliberately cultivate an appearance deemed "androgynous" by minimizing signifiers of gender - for example, if your culture is fine with anyone wearing pants, and it's fine with anyone having their hair in a ponytail, then that's what you'll go with.

cultivate an aesthetic that will be recognized as feminine (or even specifically as transgender!) within certain subcultures, but not others - basically a visual shibboleth.

ignore the whole thing and wear skirts Because They Feel Nice, or wear pants Because You Like How Your Ass Looks In Them, or whatever.

now, in reality, this is all a lot more complicated because there's even more social constructs to keep in mind - race and nationality, religion, flagging as gay, subcultural signifiers, professional signifiers, and so on. all of these inform each other in a way that will also be mediated by your personal feelings on all of it! (for example: I consider myself a lesbian, and more specifically, I want people to read me as butch. how do I navigate that without making people go "oh that's just A Dude"?)

the upshot is - and I realize this might sound a bit glib - "presenting as female is whatever people decide counts as 'presenting as female.'" society as a whole sets the base terms, and then individual people interpret them.

in a hypothetical world where gendered beauty standards didn't exist at all, it would probably be more difficult to "obviously" present as male or female. on the other hand, people are less likely to be shitty about people who present "wrong," because that concept loses some of its meaning.

none of that should be taken to mean that being transgender is "fake" or "meaningless," obviously. a lot of the time, society is basically arbitrary... but we still have to live in it. or, you know, actively reject it, but as mentioned above, that too is a specific choice which is related to our relationship with society.

[pondslime]

squall

bo sinclair x afab!reader

rating: explicit

word count: 5.1k

A thunderstorm rolls through Ambrose. Bo has a nightmare.

Bo POV. He sucks on some titties and is nasty about it. He really doesn’t deserve it, but he gets laid. Confusing weird dynamics. 

Crossposted on AO3 here.

Canon-typical violence and references to childhood trauma. 

Mommy and daddy kink. Stockholm syndrome. Reader isn’t here with Bo by choice. Religious imagery and symbolism but make it filthy. Shitty nasty AWFUL thoughts about women from soggy loser man. Misogynistic language and behavior. Dubious consent that actually shifts into enthusiastic consent (this is the first fic where I can kinda comfortably say that the reader might be having a little fun). However, he’s still the worst and this is still weird.

Bo Sinclair as an individual is a trigger warning. He is THE trigger warning!! He is EVERY single trigger warning!! 

this was born from an unhinged late night convo w/my partner in slime and sanitarium roommate, @raccoonspooky​. this fic has breached containment and is now coming 2 a tumblr dash near u! scary stuff!

squall (noun) 1. a sudden violent wind often with rain or snow 2. a short-lived commotion

The office window is mangled.

Bo’s eyes dance over the spiderweb of splintered glass. Vincent’s frozen in place, hands anxiously clenched around the baseball bat. This is his fault for once, and he doesn’t know what to do.

That’s how Bo gets here, standing in his father’s office, staring down at jagged pieces of broken glass. He’ll clean it up. He has to. Vincent doesn’t know how. He’s picking up the baseball when his father appears in the doorway. That’s the beginning and end of every story in this house, isn’t it?

He’s explaining himself, sputtering out a string of words—his father isn’t listening. He never does. If he did, maybe things would be different. Maybe the world wouldn’t taste like copper and vomit. But he doesn’t exist in maybe’s, does he? He exists here, and here is all there is.

“Tryin’ to blame this shit on your brother.” His father looms over him. “Look at me. Your mama’s soft on you. But you can’t pull that shit with me.”

“C’mon.” Salvation, his mother appearing over his father’s shoulder. She’s shaking her head, her forehead creasing in exhaustion. “Enough of that.”

She steps over to Bo, her heels crunching on the glass. Reaching down, she cups his face in her hands. He’s blubbering out the same excuses from before. She doesn’t listen either, but her hands are soft. So is her voice.

“No more cryin’, okay?” She sighs, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. He should bite her, he’s done it before—he wants to do it again, now, because she isn’t listening. But he doesn’t. “That’s baby stuff. You’re too old for that.”

He nods.

“You go pick all that up, now.” When she smiles at him, it doesn’t reach her eyes. “No broom. Use your hands.”

Ambrose blooms white under two jittered flashes of lightning. Thunder crashes overhead, sheets of water spilling over the eaves of the house.

Standing on the porch, Bo chews on the inside of his mouth.

A broken window. He’s not entirely sure if that ever really happened. He’d remember something like that, wouldn’t he? Lord knows, he remembers everything else.

He turns his hands over, squinting at his palms. The skin holds memories. He can’t see any scars there, but it’s hard to see in the dark. The porch light isn’t working. Come to think of it, none of the lights are. He hadn’t noticed before. It’s muscle memory now, finding his way downstairs in the dark. He’d been tugging his clothes on before he even realized that he was awake. 

He looks out at the rain, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Down the hill, his mother sleeps under the watchful eye of rows of devoted mourners. She’s developed quite the collection over the years. It’s what she always wanted. She’s something, she’s the main event. 

Where’s your father, boy?

He’s all over the state, mama. Remember that lipstick on his collar? He can’t keep his hands to himself.

Doc Sinclair is scattered down the back roads, his jaw shattered to pieces on the stoop. He’s out there—a man meant to be forgotten; teeth ground up, sifted in with the gravel. All those years of medical school sure added up to a lot, didn’t it? 

Anatomy, physiology, vivisection. Fingers in the garbage disposal, stabbed onto the end of fishhooks. All but one.

Victor’s ring finger went into a retention pond. The flesh was molted and black by that point, rotting away in Bo’s glove compartment. He held onto that one for a while. You’ll never forget a smell like that, not in the last sweltering days of the summer. It was the principle of the thing, really.

That’s respect, Pa. That’s memorial. 

The sky flashes pale, electric purple. He’d remember breaking the office window. He’s sure of it.

Separate tombs, scattered graves. After all, Bo never promised that they’d be buried together. You have to ask for what you want. Nobody will do anything for you if you keep your mouth closed.

Bo looks out into the dark, past the pelting deluge of rain. If ever there was a night for ghosts, it’s this one. He imagines his father making his way up to the church. Piecing together his limbs, eager to make room in her coffin. Honor thy father and mother, in all their rot and mildew. 

He puts the cigarette out on the wall, flicking the butt onto the stoop.

Lightning creases the sky. In the pulsing after-image, he narrows his eyes. Somewhere, at the end of the road, he can almost make out the shadowy edges of a silhouette. Another flash and it’s gone. Rain lashes his skin as he hurries down the stairs. Standing in the driveway, he peers down at the empty expanse of road. Nothing there. Just his eyes playing tricks on him.

He tenses up when he hears his name, twisting his head toward the noise. The door is open and you’re standing on the stoop, arms wrapped around yourself. How long have you been watching him? You call out to him again. The road is empty.

When he stomps back up the steps, you hurry to the side of the doorway, watching him with wide eyes.

“Power’s out.” You murmur.

“No shit.” His mouth feels gummy. “Lock that door.”

You’re quick to follow him into the kitchen, fluttering anxiously at his side. The room is bathed in flickering yellow light as you light candles, peering at him over your shoulder. The worry on your face sends a fresh wave of irritation washing through him. You’re always underfoot, at his heels like a fucking dog.

He tries the tap. Nothing happens. He huffs out an exasperated sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Power shoulda kicked on by now.” He curses under his breath, crouching down to fish in the cupboard under the sink. Grabbing a gallon jug of water, he unscrews the cap and raises it to his lips. “Generator’s fuckin’ busted.”

Tipping his head back, he gulps down a mouthful of water. Satiated, he shoves the jug back under the sink, getting to his feet.

"You can't go out in the rain like that!" You exclaim, your eyebrows knit together in concern. "You're gonna get sick."

"The fuck do you care, woman?” He grunts at you, scowling. Rainwater trickles off his forehead and hits the linoleum. “Always up in my goddamn business.”

“You’re dripping everywhere.” You state.

“Am I?” He sneers.

“Hold on.” Turning on your heel, you disappear out the door.

A resounding crash of thunder rumbles above and the window rattles on its hinges. Rain batters at the glass, obscuring his view outside.

He can’t shake the feeling that something’s out past all that gloom, lurching towards the church. It’s scratching under his skin, biting into his blood. He turns his hands over. No scars, no broken window. That’s the truth. There’s nothing out there anyway—nothing living at least. But what about everything else? He worries with his ring. The metal feels heavier tonight.

Dreams are just that—dreams. You told him that once, standing here in this kitchen. He’d like to believe that tonight. You’re a liar, but you’re a pretty one.  

On the third day, Christ rose from the dead. A hell of a lot more time than that has already passed. If it was going to happen, it would’ve already.

The sound of the kitchen door swinging open disrupts his train of thought. He welcomes the interruption, even if it is from you.

You look up at him expectantly, a towel in your arms. Grudgingly, he allows you to approach him. His wet clothes stick to him as you reach up to wrap the towel around his shoulders.

“Whose house is this anyway, huh?" He grumbles as you wipe the edge of the towel against his forehead.

"Yours." A quick response. He catches your wrist, fixing you with a glare. Too quick. Tugging the towel out of your hands roughly, he rubs it over his hair. You want something done right, you do it yourself.

"That's what I fuckin' thought."

You're going through the motions tonight, he can tell. He glances down at you, his eyes darting down your frame. His mouth tightens into a flat line. What the hell are you up to? Prettied yourself up, ran a brush through your hair when he left. Who are you trying to impress? Under the faded print of his old t-shirt, he can see the outline of your nipples through the cotton.

Jesus, girl. What if his brother walked in?

“The fuck is this?”

“What?” Your eyes are wide. You’re always looking at him with that same stupid expression, as if you need him to tell you how you’re supposed to feel. You’re always putting that shit on him.

As if I ever fuckin’ asked for that.

“We ain’t alone in this house.” He snarls at you, tossing the towel onto the ground. “You’d show all that off to him too?”

“What? I don’t—”

“Bet you’d like that.” He cuts you off before you can stutter out a string of mindless excuses. “Fuckin’ tramp.”

“No, I wouldn’t, I—” You’re stuck on defense, and you don’t even know how to play the damn game.

“Tell ya’ what, girl.” He pinches your nipple through your shirt, tugging it forward. Your face screws up in pain and you squeak out a yelp. “You wanna walk ‘round here like a whore? Be my guest. Maybe he’ll fuck ya’. Give me a break from your shit.”

He twists his fingers. It hurts, he can tell, but despite your shuddering throat, you don’t move. He feels a flash of satisfaction at your stillness.

He felt sorry for you once. Back when you still had a little bit of fight left in you, your teeth biting down on his hand. You were pitiful then, dragging your nails over his arm, spitting on his face. When you thought you were going to die, you became something else, something more primal.

You were going to kill him, remember?

He plucks cruelly at your nipple, flicking at it with his thumb. With a shuddering exhale, you release your hands from the tight balls you’ve curled them into.

That’s a girl. He had to wrench this version of you out. The real girl under the threats, peeking through the flame in your eyes. You were always waiting to come out, but no one had ever really let you. 

Thank me for this, girl. Thank me. Tell me how this hurts. I showed you how to take it without cryin’. There’s power in that.

“Tryin’ to screw my goddamn brother. Never any fuckin’ shame with you.”

“That’s not true.” You wince. “I’m all yours. You know that.”

“Do I?” He spits out, finally dropping his hand. “I don’t know ‘bout that, baby. I really don’t.”

"Will you come back to bed?” Your hand brushes his arm, and he smacks it away. Another boom of thunder rumbles above.

“I gotta get the power up.”

“It’s late.” Your tone is gentle, a plodding rhythm that reminds him of the bed upstairs. “There’s nothing in the fridge that’ll spoil anyway. You’re tired.”

“Can’t get into bed like this.” He gestures down at himself. 

“I’ll get you a dry shirt.”

“Sure ya’ will.” He jabs his chin towards you. “The one you got on.”

You glance around the kitchen, peering out into the dark living room. Your hands worry with the bottom of the shirt. It’s downright hilarious watching how your mind works. You always get fixated by the strangest things.

So now you’re going to act all shy.

“You hear me?” Your eyes snap back on his face and his lips twist into a smirk. “Take it off, girl.”

You’re not moving fast enough. You’ve always got to misbehave—he’s not sure if you think you’re cute for that, but it’s getting old. He wrenches your arms up, tugging the shirt over your head. You let out a muffled noise.

You make a move to cover yourself up before dropping your arms ineffectually at your side. Balling the shirt up in his hand, he glances down at you.

“Look at that, huh?” He boxes you into the counter, bracketing you against the wood. “What? You ain’t have no problem showin’ all that off before! You wanna give him a show, honey? Do it proper.”

In the bedroom, he peels of his wet clothes, throwing them in a heap by the door. The shirt that he tugs on smells like you, warm skin and soap. You watch him from the bed, knees pulled up to your chin.

“Whatchu waitin’ for? Get to bed.”

He’s saying it more to himself than to you.

Bo’s back in his father’s office, glass slicing into his hand.

His mother is at the door. She makes her way into the room, stepping over shards of glass. His father blurs, fading out around the edges. He almost looks like someone Bo recognizes, but the features are in all the wrong places. Strange. He squints. Mama looks wrong too, but he can’t place why. The pain is distracting him, blossoming red and angry through his palm.

Vincent’s playing piano down the hallway. Fuckin’ freak. Can’t he come in here and help clean up? He made the mess. Goddammit. His mother presses a kiss onto his father’s neck, resting her chin on his shoulder. Pa doesn’t react. How can you ignore someone so beautiful? She’s kissing you and you’re glaring at the ground.

Don’t you understand, Pa? You’ve made her sad, you’ve disappointed her, and now you’re coating your hands in glass. It’s what she wanted. Give her what she wants, boy. You love her, right?

Wrong eyes. That’s it. There’s blood dripping onto Bo’s jeans.

You love her this much?

That’s not his mother at all. Whose eyes are those?

“Hey. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Lightning streaks the sky. There’s no glass biting into his palms.

You’re sitting up against the headboard, pulling him into your arms. He growls a bit in frustration. This is your fault. You just had to ask him to go back to bed. You can’t be alone, not for a single second. You need him here, pressed up beside you. Wrapping your arms around him, resting his head against your chest.

“You’ve been through so much, baby.”

It’s pathetic. As if you could really help him, as if he needs that from you. He almost hates you for it, but you can’t hate something so desperate. You have to have pity for those lesser than you.

Women hunger for strength. They have to. They’re twisted, imperfect copies of men, always trying to steal strength from the people they wish they could be.

You’re the same. How could you be any different? You’re all soft, warm skin. Bowing his head, he rounds his lips around your nipple. He’s lapping his tongue around more of that softness, feeling it harden against his tongue. Trying to fortify yourself against him, prove that you’re more than a collection of malleable flesh. He sees through you, girl.

“Do you like that, baby?”

He groans against your skin, nuzzling his nose into your breast. He reaches over and cups your other breast, letting it fill his palm. Pawing at you, he traps your nipple, pinching it between his knuckles. Your chest flutters a bit and the nipple in his mouth nudges forward against his tongue. 

He closes his eyes.

Oh, the flesh is weak. Every day you give him something new to have to be forgiven for. You can’t be good; you can’t be dead. You stay here because you want him on his knees, muttering apologies to God.

“You’re always working so hard.” Your nipple is firm in his mouth, and he can hear your breathing hitch as he teases his teeth around it. “I couldn’t do that. I’m not strong enough.”

You aren’t. You never were. His strength, your hands in his hair. Your fingers run over the scar at the back of his head and the slight pressure makes him groan. It’s an electric buzz of a feeling, making his hand stutter on your breast.

“Is that good, baby?”

Your thumb strokes down his scar again and his eyes flash open. You’ve peeled his skin apart, dragging your fingers along an exposed nerve. A crack of lightning paints the room white. He blinks. Dark again, thunder booming overhead. It feels like the storm has rumbled its way into him through your fingertips. Who gave you the right?

You want to hurt him.

“You’re so brave, baby. My poor baby, my strong man.”

Your voice is a warm hum of noise above him. Your hand strokes down his neck, sliding onto his shoulder. Cooing, you rub gentle circles into his skin with your thumb. Casting fucking spells in his bedroom. You probably brought the storm. He wouldn’t be surprised.

“I need you. I’d fall apart without you. I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Proud. The word curls into his mind, wrapping white-hot and insistent around his cock. His mouth goes slack and he turns his head up to look at you, letting your nipple fall out of his mouth. The lightning illuminates your face for a moment. There you are, sitting in the middle of a storm, smiling down at him.

“Mama.” He chokes the word out. It’s been sitting in his mouth this whole time, clawing away at his throat.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He pushes against you, hiking his leg over yours. 

“Did I make you hard, baby?” He feels your lips against his hair. “That’s all my fault, yeah? I’m sorry.”

“Stop doin’ shit you have to be sorry for.” He grunts into your skin. You whimper a bit, and he rocks against your leg with a groan. “Just be good. I’m always tellin’ you that.” 

“I know, baby.”

“Man has to have the patience of a fuckin’ saint—” He bites into the side of your breast. You flinch, the hand on his shoulder twitching. “—bein’ ‘round you.”

He ruts furiously against you, digging his fingers into your hip. He’s painfully hard, rubbing at your leg through his boxers. You’ve got him. You’ve tied your bonds around him, cut his hair. He’s blind and you’re laughing. He growls against your breast, sucking your nipple back into his mouth.

You lie down with dogs and you’ll get fleas, boy.

“Does it hurt? I’m sorry, baby.” You murmur. “Can I kiss it better? Please?”

He shudders out a breath.

“Just lay back, baby. It’s okay. Let me.”

You’re clamoring over him, scooting down the bed to kneel between his legs. Your hand wraps around his cock. You’ve got a lot of nerve. He reaches down and tangles his hand into your hair. 

You splay your hands out on his thighs, pressing kisses up his cock. He swallows, huffing out a tight exhale of breath. His hand tightens in your hair as he palms at himself and you open your mouth obediently, blinking up at him. He slaps his cock against your tongue, watching your half-lidded eyes flutter.

“—’M not lettin’ you have this.” His voice is ragged. “Fuckin’ whore.”

“You shouldn’t.” You press desperate, sloppy kisses on the head of his cock. Dragging your tongue along it, you lick up a beaded trickle of precum. He holds you off, just enough so that he can watch you struggle forward trying to take him into your mouth. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Ya’ don’t.”

“I don’t deserve anything.” You pant, craning your neck closer. He feels your tongue on the underside of his cock, licking a hot stripe up his skin. “But you give me so much. You’re such a good man.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He forces your head down roughly, feeling you wretch wetly around his cock. Your throat constricts wildly, and he hisses through his teeth. With a sharp tug, he wrenches your head back. You cough, your hands twitching on his thighs. A line of spit hangs off your bottom lip, sticking to your chin.

You hate him, he knows that. He’s not stupid.

A caged lion is still a lion, no matter how many tricks you teach it. Look at it. It can take the meat you dangle over its cage so pretty. No teeth, just an open mouth. But it paces when you leave, boy. Watches you when you turn your back, biding its time. Stands in your kitchen with sad eyes, waiting for you to return.

“I’m here for you.” You whisper. “Only for you.”

“That true?” His hand tightens around the shaft of his cock, and he drags it over your open lips.

Come back to bed, come crawl into its cage. It looked lonely in there, didn’t it? And it loves you—in the way that you love the things you have to. Stupid fucker. Eventually you’ll make a mistake and it’ll realize that you like having it close more than you like keeping it in the cage.

You want him like this, swallowed down your throat. Disposable, rinsed out and spit down the sink. The thought burns behind his eyes, splattered red and angry. Of course you want that—it absolves you, leaves him weak.

“On your back. Now.”

He tugs your panties off, tossing them somewhere beside the bed. He’s surprised that you kept them on this long—you’re funny like that. As if you didn’t always want to end up back here, like you expected anything less. He pulls your legs apart, tugging you to the edge of the bed.

When he teases the head of his cock against your clit, you gasp.  

You’re always so wet for him. It’s how it’s always been with you—even at the beginning, when you couldn’t hide your hatred. You were wet then, wet now. The parts of you that fought him dissolved down between your legs, melting into nothing more than wetness around his cock. It was all still there, that anger, wrapped helplessly around him. You always want more.

His pretty, stupid little hole.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust to him before he rocks his hips to fill you completely. Why should he? It’s not like you need it. You get what you get. You let out a strangled moan, squeaking out a breath. 

He holds you in place and your legs shake. If you’re nothing else, you’re such a pretty little fucktoy. Just waiting for him to wake up and play with you. You tell him as much, with the way you clench desperately around him. How was he ever supposed to let you go when this is what you were made for? He’d be denying you this, and with the way you buck up around his cock, he knows that it’d kill you. 

“I—” You whine, squirming underneath him. “—miss you. When you’re gone. I miss this.”

“Yeah?” Slowly, he angles himself back, pulling out of you.

“You’re so good to me. S-so good.” He thrusts forward again, burying himself back into your core. You squeal, gaping up at him.

“This is mine, girl. Don’t you be forgettin’.”

You hum your assent, wriggling your hips down to fuck yourself on his cock.

“You’re nothin’ but a hole, mama. Don’t that feel good?”

“Daddy.” You clench around him, hiccupping out a strangled moan. He groans, gritting his teeth. You’re trembling something fierce. He reaches down to cup at where both of you are joined, your pussy swallowing around the base of his cock. 

“Always gotta be filled up, huh? Don’t know what to do with yourself if ya’ ain’t gettin’ fucked?”

“Yes. Yes, please—please.” 

“You think ‘bout me? You think ‘bout this?”

“Yes.” Your hand stutters up to clench at your breast, your nails digging into your flesh. “I can’t even cum on my own anymore. I need you.”

“Ya’ shouldn’t be touchin’ yourself when I’m not here.” He snaps, glaring down at you. “This pussy ain’t yours, bitch.”

You nod weakly up at him, your mouth hanging open. With a snap of his hips, he thrusts roughly into you. The room flickers white.

“Don’t touch that fuckin’ pussy.” He orders sharply, pulling your legs further apart. “You’re cummin’ like this or you ain’t cummin’ at all.”

He knows that if he’d let you, your fingers would already be there, rubbing at your clit. You know better, though. He’s not giving you that tonight. You don’t get to choose. Gritting his teeth, he fucks into you violently; cruel, uncaring thrusts that slam his balls against your thighs.  

That’s what you get tonight. This ain’t up to you.

Wide eyes again, always those wide eyes. A window to the soul, and yours is all fucked out, blasted out into a thousand squirming bits. Everything that keeps you alive is right here, wrapped around his cock. Pink sodden meat, a hole in the middle of a rotten peach. You can’t hide what you are here in the dark. He doesn’t have to solve any of your problems. You don’t have the chance to lie. There aren’t any words to put into your mouth, no pretty platitudes to distract him.

This is his house. You said it yourself. You might show yourself off to his brother, but it’s his bed that you end your days in. Stretched open and drooling, begging him to plug you full of cock. This is what you think about, this is what you need. Touching yourself when he leaves, thoughtlessly delving your hands between your legs. Proud enough of it that you told him.

Fuckin’ filthy. He sure knows how to pick ‘em, huh?

Wind howls outside the windows, a shrill scream of sound that whips wildly around the house. The storm rumbles incessantly overhead. He can’t get a handle on his thoughts.

Delilah knew what she was doing. So do you. Samson loved her and he told her, he told her all the time. You give something evil all of that and what do you expect it to do with it? C’mon, boy. It’s the oldest story in the fuckin’ book. She’ll ply it out of you with soft lips and the curve of her hips and suddenly you’re kneeling on the floor, your hair shorn and holes in your skull where your eyes had been. And they’ll be laughing at you, because how couldn’t you have known?

He leans down to capture your mouth in a bruising kiss, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. When he pulls back, you reach up to cradle his face in your hands. Your fingers graze lightly over his chin.  

“You’re perfect.” You whisper against his lips. “You’re so perfect.”

He hisses out a breath. You yelp as he slams back into you, your fingers quivering on his jaw. You’re making a hell of a fuckin’ racket, girl. They’ll be able to hear you all over town. Is that what you want? Course it is. 

You can’t have his strength.

You don’t have anywhere to put it, with all this softness. The void of space between your legs, the wet clutch of your mouth—those are the only places that can hold strength like that. And even then, you can only take it for short fragments of time. Eventually, you’ll always end up crying, sputtering around all of him, desperately trying to sink into everything that he is. But you can’t, because you hold yourself back. 

He thrusts forward frantically, swallowing down a moan. You’re close, desperately so, your hands slipping down to brace yourself against his chest.

It isn’t enough to have strength inside you, filling you up. No, you need to take it. You need to hold him in the dark, drag nightmares out of him of your mouth on his father’s neck.

With a cry, you gush around him, clenching helplessly around his cock. Good girl. Twisting uncontrollably underneath him, you toss your head back.  You had to work for that one. He wraps his hand around your throat, marveling at the uneven jump of your pulse. When he squeezes, you choke out a wet gurgle.

“Oh, mama. You love me, huh?” He murmurs. You make a desperate little noise, squirming underneath him. “Love your boy?”

Another quick snap of his hips draws a sob from your lips. You’re still throbbing around him, hot and wet and needy. Always taking, never satisfied.

“Yes.” You gasp. “I do.”

“Tell me.”

“I love you. Oh, god. Please.” The moan that trembles out of your lips is weak, a plaintive mewl of sound. “Mama loves you. Mama loves you so much.”

His orgasm surges through him, a violent thrum of feeling that makes him bite down on his bottom lip. The coppery tang of blood fills his mouth, but he hardly registers it. You’re milking out every spurt of his cum, flooding yourself full of him. Pulling it out of him and taking it deep, your legs shaking with the effort. He rocks unthinkingly into you, riding out the rolling tremors that rack his body. The feeling dizzies him, striking into the sides of his skull. 

He feels distant, bloodless—everything inside him spilling out into you, coating your insides. This is no surrender, this is absolution. The storm is inside his skin. He was the only one out on the road. Nothing else could stand it. Nothing else belongs.

“What’dya say, mama?” He mutters against your neck. 

“Thank you, baby.”

When he pulls out of you, you whine. You’d like to keep him there, wouldn’t you? Greedy little thing. He rolls off of you and closes his eyes, the exhaustion settling heavily around him. He’s drifting off when he feels you move beside him, clearing your throat.

“I—” He hears you exhale, your mouth hanging over the impression of words. He huffs out an irritated breath, flipping you onto your side and pulling you flush against him. Grumbling, he wraps his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin.

You’re not going to ruin this, not with that witchcraft in your tongue. Keep your hunger out of his dreams and let him sleep through the storm. You can give him that, can’t you?

He doesn’t ask for much.

“I’m tired, girl. Leave it be.”

[tomhardysurinal]

In the spirit of being angry at politics let's just remember this Margaret Thatcher quote because I swear to god this mentality is shared by every MP and it's reflected in every single thing they say and do:

I think we have gone through a period when too many children and people have been given to understand "I have a problem, it is the Government's job to cope with it!" or "I have a problem, I will go and get a grant to cope with it!" "I am homeless, the Government must house me!" and so they are casting their problems on society and who is society? There is no such thing! There are individual men and women and there are families and no government can do anything except through people and people look to themselves first. It is our duty to look after ourselves and then also to help look after our neighbour and life is a reciprocal business and people have got the entitlements too much in mind without the obligations.

Then what IS government for Margaret?? Hate all of them omg they think it exists for its own sake and I'll fundamentally never agree with this selfish, stupid, shitty excuse for a principle.

[dykeomania]

in thinking about moving forward,

this is the last thing i will say on this. i would feel really weird if i didn't have this on my blog, while continuing to run it. i apologize that this is so long.

i think it is incredibly important to begin navigating how we are going to cater to the experiences of women [and nonbinary individuals -- my! fault! i am so sorry, thank you**] who have felt particularly left out as told by the uproar that's been going on for these past few months apparently, and by these current conversations.

if women and/or nonbinary individuals who feel like they cannot find themselves in fics have to write them themselves, be it for a particular reader insert or for a more general one, then some kind of sub-community needs to be made to nurture and amplify that sentiment, at this time. i do not know if that is preexisting. if it does exist, it needs to be expanded upon or heavily revised.

as both a reader and a writer, if you see yourself in something, it is absolutely necessary that you ride for it so that other people can have the opportunity to see themselves in it, as well. and if you can't write certain perspectives, then embrace them. it's like completely normal to decorate your blog with things that align with who you are and the kind of desires you have, but at this time, as a community, it's really important to make room for neglected narratives.

and finally, for the love of god, please, stop being so fucking horrific to people.

it is okay not to like pillow princesses or, it's okay if you have a hard time vibing with hyper, hyperhyperhyperfeminine personas. your idea of what sex, femininity, and queer expression looks like does not have to coincide with their expression and definition, and that's completely normal. but under absolutely no circumstances is it okay to be antagonistic or threatening towards someone because of how they interpret their queerness. that is homophobic, and it is pride month. hyperfemininity is inherently queer in and of itself, just by theoretical principle. that doesn't make it immune to criticism -- absolutely not. but you are being mock-righteously** hurtful towards people and telling them to go off themselves, all because you don't like them writing for white bitches with fishtail braids and shitty mullets. principally, you have to understand how awkward that is. that doesn't look okay. you don't move like that towards queer people who are different from you, in real life. that's not what being queer is about.

i don't know how long any of this has been going on for and frankly, i really don't want to. what needs to happen now, is that people need to feel held in order for this to properly scab over. this applies to everyone. this is deep and if it got this deep, then it always has been. it's fundamental that something is done, in light of this, to keep going strong.

i don't want this community to be mortally wounded and divided by all of the shit that's been happening, and i'm like, so sad, that it has come to this point. i'm in a position where i can only mobilize but much (and i will if i have to, but my main priorities are my research, my girlfriend, my friends, and my family, and tbh just being happy and taking care of my mental health). but i really implore those who can / are able to, to just make something of this while holding down their own. i know y'all can everything considered, so just do it.

this was very embarrassing and not a good look for a lot of different people. if you need to apologize to someone, go apologize. if someone feels a way about how you moved during all of this, don't get defensive, because it was probably weird. move accordingly so that everyone can enjoy themselves in this community, again.

get it together. preferably within the next week or so.

tough love.

[khaire-traveler]

hey, so im kinda new here but i was just scrolling and saw a post you made in like december of last year (im really late i know, im sorry) saying that the gods aren't going to harm you and won't toy with you, and um, i really mean no disrespect at all with this, this is a genuine question, and i in no way mean to bash you bc i love the greek gods too, but like don't the greek myths show the exact opposite of that? like zeus and poseidon legit flooding the whole ass earth just to get rid of humans? and so many different occasions where the gods smite humans bc of a tiny offense? or actually just toying with mortals because they find it funny? and just basically doing really questionable things to humans all the time? i love them and all, but isn't it a bit of a stretch to say that they wouldn't harm humans when they literally did for all of humanity's existance per the myths?

Hello, Nonny, thanks for the question! I appreciate that you were trying to be respectful. 🧡

Firstly, I would like to say that I made that post last year. My thoughts and opinions have shifted over time, and that post was mostly made with the intention of comforting those who needed it (including myself, at the time). Posts like that don't offer enough context to express what a person actually believes/practices. I still would like to believe that gods don't just fuck with people or harm them in really shitty ways, but this is due to personal experience, as are most things within this type of religion. It's very heavily based on each individual's experiences with the gods. I have never met two people with the same exact practice or even interpretation of the gods; something is always a little bit different, even if it's a very small difference.

Secondly, these are myths that you're referencing. Even in ancient times, they were not interpreted literally all the time. This isn't really the type of religion that I would suggest people interpret myths literally, and I don't mean that in a rude way. It simply doesn't make sense to me to do that, especially when the culture of the ancient Greeks was so vastly different from the modern day. In fact, many of the major "issues" people have with Greek myths can be explained by a difference in culture and ways of thinking. If you choose to interpret myths literally, go for it, but I personally find the gods to be VERY different from the myths people told of them.

You have to remember as well that it's not as if these myths were written by the gods themselves or something; some old ass white men were probably the ones writing that stuff down, and they lived in a culture where men had all the rights and privileges (this is all to say that many myths treat women like shit for a reason: the culture viewed women as being worth less than literal animals).

The Greek myths are not scripture. I feel that basing one's views of the gods solely on myths is extremely limiting and, in my experience, inaccurate. Zeus has treated me very kindly, even helping me escape from the worst abuser I've ever faced; Poseidon has been very respectful, gently approaching me and randomly just popping up for assistance throughout my life; Apollo has been a light in the darkness for me during many times of need, always willing to guide me when I've lost my way. The gods can be depicted in myths one way but act in an entirely different way in reality.

That said, however, the gods are complex beings, similarly to humans. They are capable of feeling any emotion - sadness, happiness, anger, disgust, etc. Of course they're bound to get upset at humans from time to time, but I don't believe they would act maliciously towards someone randomly or for a super petty reason. They can be kind, loving, and sweet, but being multifaceted, they can also be cruel, spiteful, and angry. I would argue that rarely does a worshipper experience the more "unpleasant" side of the gods, but it does happen, I'm sure. I just believe that the gods will not go out of their way to just "mess with people", if that makes sense. For example, I don't believe Aphrodite would ruin someone's life for making a one-off comment about how their partner is "as/more beautiful as/than Aphrodite". Like, why would she care? Especially if that person doesn't even worship her, why does it matter what that person says? It's just some random person, and she has much better things to do than spend her time ruining their life for a compliment to their lover. The gods simply have better things to do and/or are more mature than that. They're thousands upon thousands of years old; I'm sure they know how to handle someone who called them a mean name or said something "hubristic" in a respectful and disciplined way, especially if that person isn't a worshipper/doesn't believe in their existence.

Of course, there are people who would disagree with me, and that's perfectly fine. There is no right or wrong belief when it comes to these things. The beauty of this religion is that you're free to think whatever you want. If you want to believe that Hermes is the god of Monster Energy™, you're absolutely free to do so! If you want to believe that saying someone is as beautiful as Aphrodite is insanely disrespectful and not ok, then you're free to think that as well. There's nothing wrong with believing whatever feels right to you, but just remember that at the end of the day, religion should be a generally positive experience for you. It should make you feel good in some way, be that happiness or fulfillment or even comfort. Religion shouldn't make you feel uncomfortable, unhappy, and unsafe constantly. There are times where religion - especially this one imo - will test your limits or push boundaries, but it shouldn't make you feel like shit all the time.

Ok, anyway, I apologize for going into a tangent lol. I hope this gave a sufficient answer to your question. Believe whatever you feel is right, Nonny. I may believe that the gods are kind (although they certainly can behave otherwise, being multifaceted), but you're welcome to believe the opposite. There is no one single way to interpret the gods; it's different for everyone. The only recommendation/advice I have for you is to base your views of the gods on personal experience rather than myths. Myths are just that: myths. They are meant to teach lessons or explain the nature of the world. Sometimes they're even just meant to show examples of a god's wrath/why you should respect the gods. Point being here that they aren't usually meant to be taken literally, and I personally would not recommend doing so, but it's entirely your choice.

I hope this helped and gave you a good answer! Take care, and have an awesome day/night. 🧡☺️